The Maestro (25 page)

'Hugo though
has such stamina. Even as she spasmed in her climax, Hugo still did
not come. It was a relief for me to see his steel rod withdrawn,
his seemingly implacable erection angled acutely before him. I
prayed I would be next.

'And I was.
Passing over Isabella, his hand smacking her rump firmly, he moved
on to me. He ruthlessly pushed inside me, reaching a hand between
my thighs and rubbing my distended clitoris with his dextrous
fingers, he rode me as mercilessly as he had his wife. Each stroke
of his thick cock seemed to penetrate me more deeply, his fingers
nipping on my engorged button of love. I could not hold out very
long, until I was writhing as feverishly as Laura had done. I
clutched his throbbing cock with my cunny muscles but still he
would not come. It was a challenge to him, a temptation. I held him
in a vice grip, squeezing him, but still he resisted, pulling out
of me as stone hard as when he had entered.'

'He sounds
unbelievable. I can't believe that any man could have such
stamina.'

'I don't think
it is totally naturally. I told you he is an expert on herbs. He
would spend a lot of time in his herb garden preparing compounds,
and his library had two whole shelves on aphrodisiacs and other
things that would enhance his sexual performance.'

'Still.'

'Well he did
eventually come. He had wanted to spend himself inside Isabella.
This is what she had been waiting for all night. But he did not
enter her as he had us, choosing the tight aperture of her anus,
pushing into it, sliding an inch inside and then two, Isabella's
flesh stretching as it had with the imitation penis I had pushed in
there before. A squeal of delight came from the girl as he rammed
inside her, her eyes scrunching with each mighty stroke.

'Hugo the
sexual magician was not finished with us. Resting deep inside
Isabella he retrieved the two dildoes that lay beside him on the
floor near the sofa. Keeping hard inside Isabella, first he entered
the rubber shaft inside Laura, in the same place as he was now
ensconced in Isabella, then he did the same with me. Oh it was such
a delight for me to be filled like that, to feel Hugo manipulate
the rubber up and down me in the same way that he was doing with
Laura, and to think of his hard tool, pushing into Isabella.

'Hugo riding
all three of us at the same time, three women screaming with the
pleasure he was roughly bringing to us. I fought it as long as I
could. I did not want to be the first to come. I could see Laura
gritting her teeth, trying to prolong the sensation for as long as
she could as well, and Isabella beside me, our thighs rubbing
against each other, was on the verge, her whole body began
collapsing as she could take her pleasure no more. She howled in
the throes of her orgasm. But this did not stop Hugo. He had
decided to shoot his seed inside her and it didn't matter how sated
she appeared to be.

'I could not
resist my own orgasm either. I came, but Laura came at the same
time. This time it was too much for Hugo. With one final enormous
thrust his cock embedding itself further inside Isabella, the dildo
shooting up the very depth of Laura and myself, he shot his load
deep inside the girl. I told you, you missed something there,
Linda.'

'I had my own
fun.'

'I can
imagine.' Maria smiled at the older woman.

'But you still
haven't told me how I ended up sleeping in your room.'

'Well, after
Hugo was finished he became very tired from his exertions. He took
Laura up to her room. I invited Isabella to my bed. We didn't make
love again. We were both too tired for that, but it was still
delightful to have the beautiful Isabella asleep in my arms. You
came into the room in the dead of night. I think you were
sleepwalking. You certainly didn't respond to me when I called your
name after you had woken me up.'

'I can't
remember any of this,' Linda said, shaking her head from side to
side.

'So you won't
be able to remember how you prised us both apart from our sleepy
embrace, how you opened up first Isabella's young legs and buried
your head between her luscious thighs. Then did the same to me. I
don't know how long it lasted. You would both bring us to the point
of orgasm again, and then retreat to the other. It seemed to last
an eternity. You are an expert. No man could have been as skilful
as that, not even Hugo. You made us both come. It was almost light
by the time you had finished.'

'All that and
I wasn't even awake. What a shame!' How could she have missed
that?'

As Maria sat
on the bed, her silk robe barely covering the top of her thighs,
Linda thought how delightful it would be to repeat the
activity.

'There will I
hope be other times, Linda.' Maria stretched out her hand and
gently caressed the side of her cheek.

'I hope so
too,' Linda concurred.

'But now you
have a visitor.'

'Who?'

'Alfonso is
here. He's been waiting for you since early this morning. He wants
to talk to you about Delgado. He's very worried about you. He
thinks he's upset you. Be nice to him, Linda. He's not a bad
man.'

It was the
mention of Delgado's name that cast a shadow in her mind. She had
not forgotten about him. He was always in her consciousness, but
she had managed during her conversation with Maria to push him a
little to the side.

Alfonso was
sitting on the tiled patio, reading a newspaper when Linda,
showered and dressed, went to meet him. He immediately stood up, a
nervous look in his eyes. He invited her to sit down beside him,
the shock of the bright light making her squint, the warmth of its
heat on her body slightly disorienting her.

'I'm glad you
would see me. I know I owe you a huge apology.' He looked so
contrite, Linda knew she must forgive him.

'Look,
Alfonso, I know you didn't mean what you said. I know that Delgado
is impossible sometimes and I can understand your bitterness.'

'No, you
misunderstand, Linda. What I said about Delgado is true, but I
should have told you everything I knew. I talked to Stephanie
yesterday and she agreed that I could tell you everything. She was
going to wait a little longer, but it doesn't matter now. The
police have already arrested him.'

'What?'

'When I was in
Zurich I got a call from a woman who had heard that I'd studied
with Delgado. She said she wanted to meet me. This was Stephanie.
Stephanie had an older sister who a couple of years ago fell under
Delgado's spell. She worked in his studio and then in the house in
the Pyrenees until she had produced an enormous amount of work. She
came back, and I assume as he did to you last night, told her the
same as he told you.'

'And what was
that, Alfonso?'

'That she
would never amount to much, the art world being so conservative,
but because one or two weren't bad, if she wanted, and only if she
wanted, he would exhibit them under his own name. He made it look
like an act of kindness. They would believe that the other work in
the exhibition was his work.'

What Alfonso
was telling her seemed so unreal, as if Delgado, the great artist,
would rely on the work of other people.

'It sounded a
crazy story to me too, Linda. This is not a happy story.
Stephanie's sister killed herself, thinking her work was
useless.'

'How can you
believe this girl?'

'She is quite
a detective. Her sister told her all about it just before she died.
She researched many of Delgado's students and found two similar
tales. To corroborate her story, she went to Barcelona herself, and
inevitably the same thing happened. The truth is Delgado can't
create.'

'Are you
trying to tell me that none of his work, the work that is respected
all throughout the art world, is not his own?'

'That is
precisely what I'm telling you. You know that his father was an
artist.'

'Yes, but not
in Delgado's league.'

'Well maybe
not. He brought Delgado up to be a great artist. You know that he
never went to any of the leading academies, that his father taught
him everything. Delgado could paint, draw, sketch, whatever, but
there was no spark of originality. You know his first group of
paintings.'

'Genesis.'

'Yes, that was
not his work; they were the last paintings of his father. For the
first couple of years Delgado turned his father's work out as his
own.'

'How come
nobody latched on to this?'

'Because it
was assumed that his early work would of course be slightly
derivative of his father. Nobody assumed that he would be so low as
to actually steal from him. Well the paintings ran out, Delgado had
nothing else to show. That was when he became a teacher and
suddenly hit on the idea that maybe as he already had the
reputation he could steal from others and pass their work off as
his own. He was too good a critic not to realise that his own work
was just not good enough.'

'What you are
telling me, Alfonso, is incredible.' She let out a bitter laugh.
You know that was the one thing he criticised me for, being a
critic, having no creative talent. It was himself he was
criticising, him all along. He was talking about himself.'

'This is why I
should have told you yesterday, to put you out of your agony, but
Stephanie was frightened that you were lost to him, and that you
would tell Delgado and give him a chance to escape the justice that
Stephanie so desperately craves.'

'But why did
all these women go along with it? I don't understand.'

'Because they
were treated so specially. Because they did not know that all his
other work was fake too.'

'But sooner or
later, you know what an artist's ego is like. They would get tired
of Delgado taking all the applause.'

'What are they
going to do? Where are they going to go? The police? Do you think
they would believe you? To the art world? Remember that you believe
all the other paintings are his. Who is going to believe you? And
then there is Delgado himself. He can be quite a menacing
character, as you know. Do you really think that somebody as
ruthless as him wouldn't resort to murder, blackmail or whatever
else to stop you destroying his precious reputation? It is very
clever, don't you think, each artist feeling alone, isolated but
special, never conceiving of the possibility that all his work is
fake.'

'I feel quite
sorry for him in a way.'

'Why, he's a
crook, a thief, a liar and a hypocrite.'

'But I don't
think he did all this for money or power. He had all he wanted, but
he couldn't have the one thing he really needed, the one thing that
everybody expected him to have: the ability to create.'

'You're a
generous woman, Linda. I hope you'll be as generous to me.
Stephanie has accumulated enough evidence to send him to prison and
I for one think that is precisely where he deserves to go.'

'I agree.'

'This will
rock the art world. And you'll be famous, I'm afraid, although I
know it's not the kind of fame you want. It will certainly help
when you exhibit your work.'

'I don't want
fame, Alfonso, not like that. I want people to judge me on my own
merit, not on my association with Delgado.'

'As an artist
I understand, as your prospective agent, I weep.'

'Think as an
artist.'

'I will try to
do my best to keep you out of this.'

'I appreciate
that very much.'

'But you know
there will be rumours.'

'I know, there
always are in the art world. Rumours I can live with.'

'Stephanie
wanted you to testify, but I think she really has enough evidence.
I'll talk to her and try to explain. She's quite an artist
too.'

'And one more
thing, Alfonso.'

'What's
that?'

'I talked to
Maria, before I talked to you. You know you were wrong about me. I
wouldn't let Delgado or anybody else dominate me. I really do have
too much confidence in what I have achieved; partly I have to say
thanks to Delgado.'

'I know, I'm
sorry. I should have told you.'

'No, that's
not what I wanted to tell you. I have asked Maria to be my agent
and she has very happily agreed. It's about time the art world had
a few more strong women in it, don't you agree?'

Alfonso
smiled. 'Oh Linda, you are irresistible.'

Later that
afternoon Matteo examined Linda's paintings and declared that they
showed considerable potential. He had the natural guardedness of an
art dealer, but he did offer her a lot of money for them. Linda
told him that he would have to talk to his daughter. Matteo went
off triumphantly to find her and came back twenty minutes later to
scowl at Linda.

'What's wrong,
Matteo?'

'She won't
sell them to me, the witch. Nothing is to be sold until after the
exhibition. Naturally she said that my bid would be considered with
everybody else. How did I have a daughter like that?'

Linda started
laughing again. She had obviously made such an intelligent choice
for an agent.

Linda was
tired now. Her legs ached with having stood on the marble floor for
the best part of the day. Maria had been really wonderful, not only
arranging for her work to be exhibited in one of the most
prestigious private galleries in the city, but in the excellent
publicity work she had done. She had made sure that everybody who
mattered in the art world would come to view her work. Maria had
also been fabulous in other ways, finding a flat in the heart of
the city, arranging for her a private studio, and entertaining her
with new friends and adventures that maintained an erotic spark in
her life that it had never previously had before she came to
Barcelona.