An Elegant Seduction Pt. 01

This is part one of a multi-part story. The actress Fatima Haleemi is fictional as are the Burnside Estate and McLeod residences. Balloch does exist and is part of Alexandria, located at the south end of Loch Lomond. I hope you enjoy part one of An Elegant Seduction.

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PART ONE: THE INTRODUCTION

Someone asked me a few years ago when I first realised I was gay and I had to think about that for a moment before replying that I didn't know. I could trace it back to that first tentative encounter at the age of sixteen with a girlfriend from school, but that's only if you want to date it from the first sexual encounter. For a few years before that I'd plastered my bedroom walls with pictures of Madonna, Joan Jett and Carole Vorderman, she always looked so elegant and yet behind the beauty was the brain of a mathematician. Another woman whose picture adorned my wall was this Lebanese/English actress, Fatima Haleemi, but never in my wildest dreams did I think she'd be standing some fifty feet away talking to my employer, Gordon Giles.

I work out at Burnside Estates, a country house in the west of Scotland not far from Balloch on the southern end of Loch Lomond. These days it's part of the town of Alexandria although many locals still refer to it as Balloch. It's a big enough town but if I want to kick up my heels I head on over to Glasgow. My daily job involves teaching people to ride, I've been around horses for years and it's a private joke amongst my friends that the only cock I've been near is a horse's cock. Now and then I have to assist the local veterinarian, Fiona Graham, who's gay too but in a long term relationship with her partner, Shannon. She was standing next to me in the stables when Fatima turned up with her twenty one year old daughter, Petra.

I'd followed Fatima's career over the years, and she always impressed me as being one of those dedicated actresses who just got on with the job of acting. She was born in 1971 in Beirut to middle class parents who fled Lebanon during the Lebanese Civil War, when they arrived in 1978 she was seven years old. Two years later her parents enrolled her in an after school drama program to try and heal some of the trauma. Little did they suspect it would lead to a life on stage and later on in front of the camera.

By the time I had her pictures on my wall in 2004 she had some twelve films under her belt and numerous television roles. She was once married to John Wales, a Labour politician and they had one child, Petra.

The marriage was considered somewhat of a sham due to his frequent affairs. The article that went along one of the pictures on my wall referred to it as a marriage of convenience. She'd recently hosted an AIDS benefit function and was considered a lesbian pin up icon in the late '90s. I latched onto her at the time because of a picture showing her in a white blouse and jeans looking a little sad and weary. The story was just another scoop of John Wales having a good time at the expense of his wife, who bravely tried to limit the damage but it was telling on her according to unnamed sources.

The marriage ended some six months later and she took him to court for damages in a bruising court case that went through two appeals before settling out of court. My interest in her had waned these days but seeing her standing so close brought back memories of my teenage years when her picture was right above my bed.

Nevertheless, even at the age of forty five she still looked hot, although when you've got the money for expensive beauty regimes I guess it's to be expected, and then I homed in on her daughter and my heart skipped a beat.

Petra had her mother's long dark hair and an aquiline-shaped face that made her a younger version of her mother, albeit with some of her father's features. She also had his height and was a head taller than her mother with curves in all the right places and the clothes she was wearing certainly accentuated her figure. She wore a tight jumper and blue skinny jeans tucked into boots.

"She was in that film about the Spanish Civil War."

"Who?" I reluctantly pulled my gaze from her.

"Petra, the daughter? She's been acting for years, I thought you would have known of her."

"Nope," I sighed, "I must check her out on Netflix, besides I had the hots for the mother," I straightened up, "and she's coming our way."

"Oh shite," Fiona pulled the hair clip from her hair, "I knew I should have let Shannon do my hair last night, how do I look?"

"Like you've had your arm up a horse's bum," I smiled, "but you're a vet, so I wouldn't worry about it, besides," I moved closer to the door and lowered my voice, "you're taken."

"I know but this is the closest I've been to a real celebrity."

Fatima was wearing a white shirt over purple suede trousers, a wide leather belt cinched it in, accentuating her waist and breasts, long purple suede boots completed the outfit. She was talking to Gordon and he was trying his best to look and sound professional but I could tell he was a little star struck.

I would never have admitted it then but I was feeling very ordinary. I'm not unattractive but I'm no Mona Lisa. My most noticeable features are long blonde hair that reaches my shoulder blades and my blue-grey eyes although I think they're set too far apart. My face is a little broad and I've been told more than once that I have good country looks, which doesn't sound like a compliment. My figure is average, I'm a size twelve most of the time but around Christmas I verge on a fourteen, it's a constant battle to keep weight off.

Petra was a few steps in front, her brown eyes widening as they adjusted to the low light. She had her mother's dark brown hair and brown skin although it wasn't quite as dark, she came to a stop as the animal smell became stronger. I caught the scent of expensive perfume as Gordon and Fatima came to a halt behind her. Fatima wrinkled her nose at the smell and smiled.

"It's been a while since I was around horses, but I remember the smell," she glanced briefly at me and then looked over as Gordon introduced us.

"This is Lynne Mathiesson, our riding instructor and chief horse handler and this is Fiona McDonald our vet and our guests need no introduction I hope."

"So pleased to meet you," Fiona wiped her hands on her jeans, "I've seen all your movies."

"Thank you," Fatima's smile was fixed as she turned to me, "so you're the instructor?"

"I am," I stepped forward, "I've been around horses all my life."

"A local?"

"Just outside Stirling," I replied, "my mum lives in Fishcross."

"I love the Ochils," she replied, "I fell in love with them when we were shooting the Gamekeeper," her eyes flickered to Fiona and then she stepped to one side and looked at her daughter, "Petra needs some instruction. She's just been given a leading role in the movie I'll be directing, the part requires her to spend time in the saddle."

"I see," I looked at Petra, "have you ever ridden?"

"No," she replied, "well once at Disneyland when I was a little girl."

"How much time do you have?" I dug my hands into my pockets.

"Shooting starts in three months," Fatima flicked at her hair, "but to answer your question more directly, you've got four weeks with her, more or less. After that we've got pre production meetings, rehearsals and some preliminary work but before then she's pretty much in your hands."

"All right," I nodded at Gordon, "we can do that."

"Good," he looked relieved, "Lynne is the best instructor we've ever had."

"Well?" Fatima looked at Petra, "are you all right with this?"

"Sure," Petra's eyes narrowed as she regarded me, "when do we start?"

"The day after tomorrow," Fatima replied, "we're staying out at the McLeod place," she paused, "you know where that is?"

"Sure, right up the hill, one of the trails we use for group rides goes past it. Will the instruction be taking place here or there?"

"Here I should think," she smiled crookedly, "all the facilities are in place."

There was more to talk about of course and I took mother and daughter through a basic lesson outline that started with basic horse management, health and safety, and then the riding component, which would take the better part of three and a half weeks.

"Basically by the time I'm finished you should be as comfortable in the saddle as you are on your own two legs, the horse should just be an extension of you."

"That works for me," Petra nodded and looked at her mother, "it does."

"Good," her smile deepened, "so, what do you want to do now," and her eyes flickered to me, "I have to run into town for a bit, I'll be back in about an hour," she checked her watch, "make that fifty minutes."

"Make it an hour," Petra poked her arm playfully, "I'm sure we'll be fine here and Lynne can show me around the place."

"Okay," Fatima kissed her on the lips, "love you."

"Thank you for this," she nodded at me and with that she left the stable with Gordon, she was already on the phone by the time she reached the car.

"So here we are," I finally managed.

"We sure are," I nodded at the horse Fiona had just been examining, "and his name is Star."

"Like me," she smiled to expose dimples.

"Perhaps you'd like to continue your examination?" I looked at Fiona, "she's just had her arm up his bum when you arrived."

"Oh," her smiled broadened, "now that I'd like to see."

"We've kind of finished with his rear end," Fiona adjusted her glasses.

"Oh go on," I teased her, "do it again, I actually think he liked it."

It was entertaining to observe the look on Petra's face as Fiona donned a long glove and proceeded to put her hand up his rectum. Most people are influenced by cutesy documentaries and films about animal husbandry that don't involve that procedure. Petra was truly fascinated by it and actually filmed it on her phone for posterity, which caused Fiona to comment later in private.

"The woman of my dreams has filmed me with my arm up a horse's arse, I'll never live it down."

"Don't be so hard on yourself, she was fascinated, I couldn't get over the look on her face."

"Her face would be a much nicer sight than what I was doing."

That much was obvious but I was impressed by Petra's attitude. She might be young but she asked some intelligent questions that hinted of a greater maturity and intelligence. I've often thought celebrity types were somewhat shallow although I'm only going by the tabloid press, but she was fascinated by everything I showed her. By the time her mother got back from town we were sitting outside talking and I learned the name of the upcoming movie.

"Delicate seduction," she looked up from her phone, "it's up on IMDB, mum is the executive producer but they've asked her to come on board as the director so she's a little tense at the moment," she smiled.

"It's something I know nothing about," I admitted, "but we'll do our best to turn you into a horse rider over the next few months."

She didn't reply and I glanced as she looked at her phone and then wished I hadn't as I looked at the picture on the phone.

"Sorry," I mumbled.

"Huh?" Petra looked up and then smiled, "sorry, I've been googling lesbian porn like crazy, my character is a lesbian, I know all the moves but I'm trying to get inside the head of a lesbian and find out how they think."

"Oh," I touched my hair clip, "I can tell you how I think but we're all individuals, women turn onto each other for different reasons, not all of them obvious."

"Oh my God," Petra sat up straight, "this is amazing."

"What? Meeting a lesbian?"

"And a lesbian who's going to teach me to ride," she giggled, "if you don't mind the Freudian slip. I would love to know more, this is just perfect."

It was about that time her mother pulled into the driveway and she jumped up.

"Wait till I tell mum," she stopped, "I can tell her, can't I?"

"Of course," I smiled blandly, "I'm not a closet but I don't wear it on my sleeve."

"Perfect," she turned away, "just wait there."

And so I waited, and waited. I felt like an exhibit in a zoo. Fatima looked hard at me a few times while Petra talked and eventually she got but Petra stayed in the car.

"Hiya," she came to a halt in front of me, "I've just had an interesting discussion with my daughter about your um, sexual identity."

"It just slipped out," I blushed.

"It happens, it's not a crime," she smiled, "there's a lot of gays in the entertainment industry, it's almost a prerequisite I feel but I need to ask you a personal question."

"She's nice, cute but not my type. If she wants to know more about lesbianism I can only tell her more about me."

"Nicely put," Fatima surveyed me, "I actually had someone in mind for that but this woman is old enough to be her mother. She'd certainly be up for it but given her reputation, I think she might be up something else too if you know what I mean. I'd be forced to supervise the sessions."

"I do and my task is to teach her to ride but along the way if she wants to know more about how a lesbian thinks I'm only to happy to tell her what I do know."

"How old are you by the way?"

"Twenty eight."

"Close enough," she studied me for a moment and then took out a packet of cigarettes, "look I'll be honest with you, I actually had someone else in mind for this part but she practically got down on her knees and begged to do it," she offered me the pack and I hesitantly took a cigarette. "It was only to stop her going on another hunger strike that changed my mind. She'll badger you with questions. Petra wants to know everything, once she gets into something she gets right into it. I'm just concerned she'll wear you down."

"I'll take that advice," I replied, "but I'll still help her however I can."

Fatima lit our cigarettes.

"All right, the agreement I've got with Gordon is for riding lessons but if you're prepared to share some of your experiences I'll pay you separately, in cash."

"Look you don't have to, I'm just happy to," I stopped as she stared into me.

"I insist," she smiled, "it's a business arrangement, it's better this way."

"Of course," I frowned, "I just don't, I'm not good at negotiating."

"Let's start the bidding then," she took a drag, "three thousand pounds."

"Three?" I squinted as I pictured that amount of money, "is that in total?"

"I always work in total sums, not enough? Talk to the face," she lowered her sunglasses.

"Three and a half," I mumbled.

"Is that your final offer?"

"It is," I choked on the smoke.

"Deal," she extended her hand, "but I'd have gone as high as five," she clasped my hand, "still want to settle on three and a half?"

"Yes."

"Great," she squeezed my hand, "it's not up to me to check on your progress, she'll let me know soon enough if my investment is worth it but you've been warned," she released my hand.

"Petra is a special case, she'll certainly put you through your paces."

There were conditions of course. I could introduce her to my partner or other gay women but I was not disclose that I was being paid as an advisor. We were not to frequent gay bars or clubs. I was not to post it as a status on social media either. These might have seemed like excess privacy but as she explained to me.

"It's as much for your protection as Petra's, I've got a steady stream of death threats every week, this week has been a bit quiet but we're only halfway through the week."

"From Islamists?"

"Them too but white supremacists from the alt right movement are my biggest worry, the Islamists I can handle with one hand tied behind my back but the alt right are particularly vicious."

She wasn't wrong as I discovered that night. I found her Twitter feed and a bunch of hashtags urging people to boycott the movie, boycott all her movies and even rape her. When I went onto the news sites I found that she'd been the subject of three death threats and these were just the ones that the police were investigating. I hopped on over to IMDB where I found the brief synopsis for Delicate Seduction.

'Set in rural England in the lead up to World War Two, a young heiress becomes romantically involved with a young Jewish woman studying in Britain. With the outbreak of war, her lover is forced to return to France to be with her family but is then taken prisoner when the Nazis invade France. This propels the heiress into volunteering for the SOE in the hopes of finding her lover somewhere in Occupied Europe.'

There didn't seem to be an awful lot of horse riding involved I thought but I went through her list of movies and was actually shocked to find a list of five movies, most of them had been released some years ago, meaning she'd been a child actor since the age of twelve where she'd played her mother's daughter in a supporting role.

My head was spinning when I went to bed that night. A mere slip of the tongue had drawn me into the world of the rich and famous and I was feeling raw and vulnerable. I've had a reputation as being something of a seductress myself, I've long gravitated towards the curious and bisexual women. I don't know what that says about me but I was feeling as if karma was coming around to bite me on the arse. Here was me having to indoctrinate a straight woman into the lesbian world without physical contact, which kind of sounds like some weird therapy dreamed up by one of those pseudo doctors who wants to cure you of your homosexuality.

And yet the next morning when Petra turned up for her lesson she seemed blissfully unaware of the storm brewing within me. She was talkative and cheerful as we went through the motions and although I thought that she might baulk at such things as brushing a horse down, she took to it with a passion. It's a way of acclimatizing yourself to being around horses and while I don't labour long on it when I'm teaching groups, for a one on one I do spend a few days getting them to brush horses down, check their hooves and in general get a feel for how horses regard humans. Some people think I'm being too pedantic but I've never had complaints yet. She spent the first two days helping me exercise the horses and brush them down. She really took to the lunging however, you could tell she was really enjoying these exercises.

Fatima was a little bemused to see her daughter lunging Star on the end of a long rope. At first she thought it was just some kind of preparation but after five minutes of watching she got a little impatient and turned to me.

"Is she going to ride that thing or let it run around her?"

"She's going to ride him soon enough, she was all fingers and thumbs the first day but now it's like she's been doing it for years."

"I'll take your word for it," she leaned on the railing, "and the other thing?"

"She hasn't mentioned anything yet. I think she's still getting used to the horses."

"Oh she's working up to it, trust me," she smiled, "can you please call her over? I need to tell her something."

I eased myself in between the railings and took the rope from her. She offered me a smile and went to see her mother leaving me to carry on with Star. He's a beautiful five year old with an easy gait and pleasant temperament. I was so intent on keeping tension on the rope that I didn't know Fatima was gone until Petra nudged me.

"What're you doing tomorrow night?"

"Me? I was planning on a night of sin and debauchery. Why? What's on the menu?"

"Um, probably crab. Mum has invited you to dinner, she's flying to Hamburg tonight for a meeting but she should be back in time for dinner tomorrow. Have you got any allergies?"

"I hate porridge."

"Not very Scottish of you."

"I threw up on it when I was wee," I replied, "I've had people try all kinds of recipes but I always end up throwing up."

"I can assure you porridge isn't on the menu."