Sex, Truths and Videotapes

Her voice trailed away as she disappeared to the wine fridge in the kitchen.

A short silence started to grow to an uncomfortable length.

'How was the game, Geoff?' asked Sally. She never asked about football at home, but obviously wanted the silence punctured, or so it seemed to Geoff.

'Dull as shit, but we won one-nil, so all is well.'

'There's the difference between the real football fan and me,' said Stephen, 'I'd rather watch a neutral game where they play attractive football like Arsenal do.'

Geoff smiled politely and bit his tongue, not wanting to get into a slanging match about how football was being ruined by too much money and ponsey-arsed clubs like Arsenal and Man U.

'Who do you support, Geoff?' asked Stephen.

'Altrincham.'

Silence again.

'There's really no answer to that is there?' laughed Sally.

'Sally doesn't do sports at all.' said Geoff, 'typical bird, more interested in Coronation Street and gossiping.'

'She's in good company at work. You should see the women there when they get together and start all the tittle-tattle. It's frightening!'

Julia gave Stephen a friendly punch and told him to stop giving her work-life secrets away.

'No, no, do tell,' said Geoff, glad to see Sally getting a bit of heat, rather than him having the piss taken for his passion for football.

'More trouble than it's worth probably,' grinned Stephen. 'Don't want to get on the wrong end of a woman's temper.'

Julia returned with a couple of glasses of wine. Geoff took a sniff and Sally told him to stop buggering around and get it down his neck. Julia failed to see or ignored the humour in Sally's comment.

'No, you need to savour the bouquet, Sally, its all part of the experience.'

Sally turned and said nothing. The tick of the large, old clock on the wall sounded like the clack of Julia's stilettos as she walked her slow, emphasised swagger on the cold stone floor, and it invaded the angry silence that Sally emanated into the room.

'Nice place you have,' said Geoff, as he felt Sally's annoyance start to cloy the mood, 'been here long?'

'Almost a year now,' replied Stephen,' we wanted something different and something we could make into our own. It was not much more than a huge barn when we got it, so we took about a third of it for this area and built internal rooms for the rest.'

The house was, indeed, unusual; the main living area housed open plan kitchen, dining area and lounge that was decked out in expensive Scandinavian furniture - definitely no Ikea here - and a ceiling that reached two stories up to the roof. A mezzanine floor lurked over part of the room, with a cute spiral staircase.

The walls were bare brick for the most part which gave it that New York apartment sort of feel. The kitchen was also open to the main area, but disappeared underneath the main first floor and into semi darkness. The bar stood between the entrance of the kitchen and door to the hall. It all seemed a bit out of keeping and tacky compared to the rest of the house to Geoff.

Julia and Stephen walked their guests round the large room, obviously proud of what they'd done. They chatted about how they'd taken the shell and built the rooms into it. They also talked about the architect they'd hired to help with the planning; Geoff thought to himself what a completely different life Sally's boss lived to theirs.

On the mezzanine itself, bookshelves ran all around the walls and were packed with a vast array of different tomes; from cheap crime to expensive, old encyclopaedias. It looked impressive and Geoff admitted as much with a quiet whistle.

'Do you like to read, Sally?' asked Julia.

'I'm not a big reader, no,' Sally replied and Julia turned away, a barely disguised look of disdain on her face.

'Grand,' thought Geoff. He was desperately hoping Julia wouldn't ask him about his reading habits as he was a voracious reader and getting on Julia's side wasn't really a great move it seemed. The whistle had probably told Julia all she needed to know anyway.

They trailed back down from the mezzanine and Geoff noticed a painting on the wall; he stopped and admired it. It was a vineyard and showed a couple in the distance sat on a rug, glasses of ruby red wine in their hands as they stared into a setting sun.

'Interesting paining,' he said, 'got a sort of van Gough feel to it the way the brush-strokes go.' He turned away. 'Where'd you get it?'

'That's Julia's painting,' said Stephen.

Geoff looked at Julia. 'OK, where did you get it then?' he grinned.

'You misunderstand, dahling,' she drawled, 'I painted it.'

He couldn't help it, he gushed praise on her. 'Wow, I'm impressed. I love painting, but I can't hold a brush to save my life.'

Sally turned away, irritation tingled though her like pins and needles.

'Oh, I will show you my little studio after dinner,' enthused Julia, and a smile lit up her somewhat severe face.

'I'd like that,' said Geoff and knew he'd get into some shit with Sally afterwards.

'And talking of dinner,' said Stephen, seeing the dark look on Sally's face, 'let's go eat.'

Dinner passed reasonably smoothly. The talk eventually flowed as liberally as the wine and Sally started to feel more relaxed as the alcohol weaved its magic through her bloodstream.

'Darling,' she said to Geoff through mouthfuls of heavenly fresh baked apple tart, 'we got the big contract with S&G. The whole site from scratch. It's a big, important job for the company.'

'Fantastic,' said Geoff, and meant it. Sally had put a lot of work into the tender and the presentation to S&G; he knew it would be a big feather in her cap and probably meant a pay rise for her.

Stephen concurred. 'She's done a sterling job, I relied heavily on Sally for this and she's really come up trumps.'

'That why we got to have this amazing Sauternes?' asked Geoff and lifted his glass of Chapeau Y'quem, the real heavyweight of the sweet, sweet Bordeaux whites; he twisted it and looked at the golden, syrupy looking wine before he took a sip and savoured the amazing mixture of honey, lemon meringue and honeysuckle that gave way to an after-taste of pears and apples.

'No, I got a case of these in Bordeaux several years ago,' said Julia, 'and I know they're ready for drinking as we had a bottle a few weeks ago. Just goes right I think with this food.'

'I agree, although some people say don't have it with sweet food, but with Foie Gras or maybe Roquefort,' replied Geoff.

'Some people think it should be drunk on its own, but it's my wine and I'll drink it with what I like,' said a suddenly animated Julia. She looked at Geoff and her eyes twinkled a little as she learned that he wasn't the typical football thug she'd expected him to be. Geoff looked away, not wanting to lock eyes with his wife's object of disaffection.

Stephen sensed Sally's unease and quickly changed the subject. 'I got that new computer,' he said.

'Yeah?' said Sally. 'Quad core, dual monitor set-up?' Geoff never ceased to be amazed how his wife was interested by computers.

'Yep, it absolutely flies. Got it dual booting into Linux; I want to have a play around with it.'

'Ah, yeah, I've been hearing good things about it from Steve at work. Would be interesting to see it.'

'Let's go. Julia can show Geoff her studio and I can show you this as I get the impression from our spouses' looks they are bored senseless by the thought.'

'Cool,' said Sally, glad to be away from the wretched Julia, even though she was slightly unnerved at the thought of Geoff spending time with her the way they seemed to be hitting it off. Then she shoved the ridiculous notions of Julia and Geoff to the back of her mind and stood up. 'What distribution did you put on?' Their voices disappeared before Geoff could hear the answer.

'Come on, Geoff, let's leave them to their dreary computers and I'll show you some more art,' said Julia. 'Bring your wine, it's fine to have it in the studio.'

They went through the back door out into the night, which was cloudless and starry. The moon poured potato coloured light on to the garden as Julia threaded her way along a path that wriggled its way through a brightly hued flower bed. At the end of the path was a stone outhouse with a door into which Julia slipped a key and pushed open. She tapped in a few digits on an alarm panel and flicked a switch that lit some wall up lighters. The room was around five by three meters and had a fresh, cool, dry feel to it. Various paintings were stacked up and some hung on the walls. A chaise longue gracefully lounged along the end wall in a bay window, a large set of drawers were set on the opposite windowless wall and an easel with a half finished painting stood in the centre of the studio. The walls were plastered and eggshell smooth.

Geoff went around the paintings on the wall; Julia explained what they were of and what had inspired her to paint them until they reached one that had Geoff slack jawed. He stared at the naked form on the painting, looked down at Julia and looked back at the painting. Julia smiled.

'Yes, Geoff, that's me. Naked.'

Geoff wasn't quite sure whether he should be more amazed at Julia using the diminutive of his name or that she should be showing naked images of herself.

He stood there unable to say anything and took a mouthful of wine as words simply refused to come to his lips.

'I'm amazed you're so open about it,' he finally managed to say.

'I'm not embarrassed about my body, Geoff; I do not care if people see it. My parents were naturists and I grew up around nudity all the time. I have a decent enough body to be seen.'

'God, yeah,' said Geoff; words, even if inappropriate, finally surfacing. 'I mean, yes, you do have a good body. Not that I was looking before, but, on the painting, it's, er...' The words dried up again and Julia laughed.

'It amuses me that you are so flustered, Geoffrey,' she said.

'Must be hard to paint yourself without being able to see yourself,' said Geoff, desperate to get the conversation away from her nudity and trying not to look at Julia's picture which showed she did have a very good body indeed. Her breasts were beautifully shaped, stomach flat, legs, slender and a full triangle of dark pubic hair. Her hair was let down, not in the more severe looking bun that she wore that evening and it flowed over her shoulders. She lay on the chaise longue in the room; she looked alluring and sexy and Geoff wanted to look at the painting even though he felt self conscious about lusting after her.

'Well, I got a photographer to come here and take a picture which he gave to me in large format, so I could look at that as I was painting. I flattered myself somewhat: my breasts are no longer as upright as they were and my stomach not as flat, but I thought that if I couldn't flatter myself, it would be a jolly poor show.'

Geoff nodded, amazed she was sharing these details and starting to become aroused despite willing himself desperately for it not to happen. He scalded himself for being a pervert, but he couldn't help it and his penis started to fill with blood.

'Some people don't like the pubic hair,' she continued, 'and I could have painted me with less, but that doesn't bother me.' She paused and asked, 'Do you prefer a woman to have a shaved look? Or do you like this?'

'Erm. Well. I guess I haven't given it that much thought really,' he lied.

'Oh please, Geoffrey,' she said, 'you men always think about issues such as that.'

Geoff was amazed that she still spoke in such a proper way as she talked of such personal and intimate matters. Most of the women he knew who would dare talk about such matters would have called him a lying bastard and told him that blokes always perved over shit like that.

'I like a woman as she comes,' said Geoff, not knowing quite how to play this.

'Very politically put, Geoffrey,' she said, 'but I am sure you do have a preference. Come over here and I will show you the original picture; you can see how I was slightly disingenuous with my portrayal of myself. She walked to the drawers and pulled out a large, high quality photograph of herself in the identical pose. It was one thing for Geoff to see Julia naked in a painting, a different thing altogether in a picture; his heart beat faster as she pulled it out, his mouth felt dry, so he took another sip of wine and swallowed hard. As he stared down at the picture he felt a fear of being interrupted by the computer couple, which sent a prickle down his back and another surge of lust to his front.

'As you can see, I am not as toned and young as in the painting,' she said matter of factly.

'Still a great body though,' said Geoff and immediately wondered why he was saying these things; the most prudent would be to shut up and get back to the safety of the house, but for the erection that had grown more in his trousers.

'Thank you, Geoffrey; it's nice to be told once in a while.'

Geoff just nodded dumbly.

Julia replaced the photograph and they finished the tour of the paintings.

'Have you ever thought about having a painting done of yourself, Geoffrey?' asked Julia.

'No,' laughed Geoff, 'I've never know a painter to even think about it before.'

'Artist, Geoffrey, painters are decorators. I am an artist.'

Geoff fought hard to suppress the smile that was threatening to break out. 'Yes, sorry, Julia, I meant I have never known an artist to ask.'

'I would take delight in painting you naked; you seem to have a good physique.'

'Oh, I don't think I could do that,' said Geoff through a sharp intake of breath.

'Would you be worried about getting an erection in the same way as when you saw me naked, Geoffrey?'

Geoff cheeks turned claret-red and he mumbled an apology.

'Dahling, no need to apologise for an outward show for the appreciation of the female form.' She paused, and it seemed later as he pondered the evening that the pause was for maximum comic effect. 'Don't worry, I won't mention to Sally that I gave you an erection!'

Geoff felt his blood turn cold at the idea and the remnants of his erection disappeared as fast a snowflake on a hot grate. 'Thanks, Julia,' he muttered.

They returned to the house; a fat black cat with four white paws sat on the low, wide wall just outside the back door. Julia bent down and tickled it under the chin. 'Hallo, Socks,' she said to the cat and it responded with a motorboat purr to show its approval at the attention.

'Socks?' asked Geoff.

'Yes, dahling, he has two pairs of white socks on his paws.'

Geoff laughed, the white marks did run up the legs and look a little like white ankle socks. 'Cute,' he said.

'You like cats?' she asked and Geoff was half surprised she didn't ask him if he liked pussy after the surreal experience in the studio.

Back inside, the warmth was a pleasant contrast to the evening which had grown somewhat nippy.

'Ah,' said Stephen as he and Sally merged from Stephen's office, 'did you enjoy that, Geoff?

'Very interesting actually, yes.' He smiled.

'Julia show you her nude portrait?'

Geoff flinched at the words and Sally's mouth fell open, much in the same fashion as Geoff's had. Julia looked smug and Stephen grinned at the reactions.

'I don't need an answer, the faces say it all,' Stephen continued. 'I can never make up my mind whether she is a true naturist, an exhibitionist or just likes making people uncomfortable and shocking them.'

Sally looked tight lipped, as if she might explode at any moment.

'Nice computer, darling?' asked Geoff desperate to change the subject, but Sally just continued to stare, agog. Geoff was sure he saw the merest of smirks on Julia's face. She was certainly far more of a character and had more of a wicked streak than he imaged before that night.

Sally was quiet for the rest of the evening and downed wine like it was beer. By the time a taxi was ordered, Geoff was silently praying there would be no outburst from Sally that she (and he) would later regret.

* * *

The taxi ride home was in a silence that was broken when they got home.

'Can you believe the cheek of the woman, practically exposing herself to you?' spluttered Sally as she poured a large gin and gulped it down. She stared, eyes saucer-wide at Geoff, the indignation dripping from her slurred expression.

'Why are you so wound up about her, Sal?' asked Geoff calmly.

'How would you like it if I went and flashed my bits at Stephen?' she spat out.

'We were talking about fucking in front of one of your friends.'

'That's different.'

'Really? Why?' Still sounding calm, but starting to get a little annoyed at her reaction.

'Because she's my friend, not a bloody work colleague. This would stay between us.'

'Are you going to tell everyone in work she showed me a picture of herself naked?'

'Of course not!'

'Well there you go, Sal; she's just shown a painting and a photo of herself to a friend who is not going to say anything. I don't see the big difference apart from what we were talking about being way more daring.'

'She's not your friend and it's out of order.'

Sally rattled the words out like a machine gun firing verbal ammunition.

Geoff said nothing, just looked at Sally hoping she'd calm down. Then she suddenly exploded again as her alcohol addled brain finally processed what Geoff had just said.

'A photo as well as a painting? Fuck me, Geoff; did she flash her fucking tits at you as well?'

'Ah, you're just being unreasonable now, Sal. I don't want to argue about someone who is not important to us and we probably won't see again in a long time.' He turned to go.

'Don't you dare walk away, Geoff, answer my question! What else did she do? What else did she show you? What did she take off?'

'Sally!' shouted Geoff, 'you're drunk, you're not thinking straight, it's time for bed and to forget about the damn evening. She showed me nothing else, she did nothing else and you have nothing to be worried about. Stop drinking and come to bed.'

He didn't dare tell Sally about the invitation to be painted nude and the fact that Julia's fine body had given him an erection. That was a powder keg from which he wanted to keep any Sally shaped matches well away.

Sally didn't go to bed with Geoff. She sat intransigent and brooded on the sofa, broiling in a soup of self pity and remorse. And gin. And wine and beer.

* * *

The Sunday morning light flooded into the lounge that seven days earlier had played host to a bout of athletic and frantic lust-filled love making. Geoff teetered groggily into the room and saw his wife fully clothed, asleep on the sofa. He wondered what sort of banging dance the hangover would be beating in her brain once she came around. By the look of the small quantity of gin left in the bottle it would be like an '80s warehouse rave.

He slipped into the kitchen and rattled noisily around making some industrial strength coffee and wondered what sort of mood she'd been in once she woke and could feel anything apart from the fruits of excessive alcohol. Contrition he hoped.

Coffee brewed, he sank into the armchair opposite the prostrate figure on the sofa and read the paper. Caffeine kicked in and he started to feel more human than Sally was likely to for quite some time.

If the doorbell hadn't rung, Sally might well have slept longer. Geoff shuffled off, a puzzled look on his face and was somewhat surprised to find Annie standing at the door.

'Annie!' said Geoff, somewhat unnecessarily.

'Geoff,' replied Annie, joining in the irrelevance.

'I wasn't expecting you.'

'Well, that's OK; Sally is.'

Geoff looked puzzled. 'She is?'

'Yes, did she not tell you? I had to postpone seeing her yesterday.'

'Oh, I see,' said Geoff and thought the agenda would have completely changed in view of the previous night's débâcle.