Liz
- 3 years ago
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Liz Pt. 01 free porn video
This is my first ‘romantic’ story that I have ever worked on without being so incredibly over the top sexually speaking. This is Part I and of course there will be more parts coming soon.
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A relationship is more than just a simple partnership, it’s a task that requires dedication and hard work. It takes a considerable effort to tend to the needs of one’s partner as well as your own while attempting to do a dozen other things throughout the day. A relationship therefore requires one to be a master at multi-tasking, something not easy to do within the confines of a 24 hour day. Now considering what has just been put forth and magnify that by a difficulty x100 or x1,000. Make the task a bit more difficult by having a relationship with someone who is well known. Better yet, attempt it while the other is a member of the A list. A person who is among the most adored, wanted, loved, hated, recognized, photographed, filmed, watched, spied on individuals in the world. This person is a movie star.
Perry Savich was in New York, Soho to be precise. He was laboring to be a freelance painter ever since graduation from art school years before. By this point in his so called career he should’ve sat down to write a book on the travails and misery of becoming an artist. Thus far it had been one long rocky road and didn’t appear as if it were going to get any better. Perry had made up his mind that he would go back to teaching full time. He should’ve stuck to teaching he kept telling himself over and over instead of leaving it after only a year and a half at a community college in Pennsylvania. It was a nice gig, instructing college kids on the rudimentary skills of making art outside of Pittsburgh. On weekends he’d drive home to Youngstown, see his parents have Sunday dinner before driving back. He wasn’t sure when he began to get the itch to leave his gig, but the idea must’ve come from the artist co-op he often visited. Seeing so many artists showing their work was a constant reminder that he should pick up the brush and start producing his own art. Perry felt guilty he had been neglecting his own creative energy for teaching. He decided that he’d take the plunge, and devote all of his time producing paintings, become known, and sell his artwork. If that didn’t work out he would grudgingly go back instructing would be artists at some community college.
Upon leaving Perry went to Pittsburgh, then Miami all the while sending galleries across the U.S. his resume and collection of works. At first there was no word, then a few bites here and there. Perry managed to have several paintings hanging in group shows and happily managed to sell a few. To help make ends meet he obtained employment at an art store, before moving yet again to someplace he felt the grass would be greener. His biggest mistake was moving to New York where the price of living was astronomical, but the amount of galleries and places to show his work were almost innumerable.
It was extremely difficult living, most of the time eating only once a day, sometimes going in a grocery market putting items in the cart for fun before placing them back on the shelf because he simply didn’t have enough to pay for them. He had two jobs waiting tables yet despite the hardship he kept going telling himself if things didn’t get better the following month he’d leave. He had a few more group shows but thus far no solo events which is what every artist craves for.
Perry took to doing commissions in addition to his own work. He did a few portraits for individuals including one Martin Taylor. At a group show Mr. Taylor approached Perry inquiring about his promotional brochure which included a line concerning commissions. He told Perry that he had followed events that showed his work and had even purchased one of his landscapes for his town home. Apparently Martin Taylor had money and Perry was very willing to fit into his busy schedule any work Martin could send his way. Perry was in luck as Mr. Taylor wanted a self portrait of himself and awarded him the commission. An appointment was made for Martin to sit for a painting at Perry’s small studio at a pre-arranged time.
Sitting for a portrait is painstaking not only for the model but the artist as well. One has to sit perfectly still for a lengths of time while the painter does his/her best to encapsulate the subject upon the painting surface while finagling with the lighting and props. Perry had done a number of works where someone sat for him and thus was prepared for his subject to be either quiet or very talkative. Perry preferred the sitter to say little, not because he disliked conversation but because it often led to losing the moment whilst trying to concentrate. One could always embark on conversing during a break. Martin sat for his portrait four times during the month all the while saying a few things that lead Perry to believe that he had quite a fan of his works. That suited the artist just fine as it translated to someone buying more of his work.
While on break during a sitting Mr. Taylor looked around the studio at the paintings, some framed other rolled and asked whether any were for sale. Of course they were and one which caught Taylor’s eye was a self portrait of the artist himself. Out of all the works available Perry was a bit uncomfortable selling it. He had painted it as a joke with another artist who did one of themselves, and the idea was to do a Renaissance styled self portrait that had an odd feel to it. For Perry that meant placing his eyes a bit off so that they were not quite looking forward and painting small beads of sweat upon the brow and forehead of his portrait. He liked the result. So did Mr. Taylor obviously and he offered two thousand dollars for it. To hell with odd, Perry thought. He quickly sold the painting to him.
Upon completion of the commissioned portrait, Perry was invited to a gathering thrown by Taylor at his upper East Side home. The artist felt out of place being amongst so many phony, pretentious, conceited people. No matter how much he may have disliked them, they had the money. He’d have to suck it up and deal with it. Mr. Taylor introduced Perry to his friends and they all claimed, whether they were truthful or not, that they liked his work and wanted to see more. He told them about his group shows and a possible upcoming solo event. The artist realized that such parties were goldmines in which to help cultivate future prospective buyers, so it was imperative to schmooze or lose. While he did so everyone complemented him on the portrait sitting in the hosts study. Perry was curious himself as to how the finished work looked in it’s new home. Taylor was more than happy to show him.
With a number of people following, the artist was lead into the study. There above the fireplace mantle was the framed portrait of Martin Taylor looking to his right. Perry’s mouth just about hit the floor when he realized where his own self portrait ended up. Because of the juxtaposition of figures both portraits hung within a foot of one another and appeared as if they were staring at each other. Taylor looking to his right, Perry’s faux Renaissance self portrait looking left, sweat and oddball eyes included. It was simply eerie.
Oh my God, Perry thought. This guy wasn’t just a simple fan but an obsessed one. It dawned on him that Taylor never mentioned he had a wife or life partner, nor any children for that matter. This man was alone and now had arranged some strange fantasy involving the two of them. He honestly felt like running out of that town home immediately. Perry headed not for the door but the bar. While throwing back a few glasses of straight Balvenie he put on the best face to conceal his true feelings. He somehow had to maintain a business relationship while keeping a creepy wealthy fan at arm’s length. Perry vowed never to paint a commission ever again.
He was still trying to shake the weird event from his mind when he got word from a gallery that they would like
to schedule a solo show. Perry was ecstatic and felt energized. The gallery called M55 was interested in his series of abstract landscape paintings. He had close to thirty pieces in that series and they were ready to go. After meeting with the gallery owner Mindy Gold he’d have a chance to hit the ground running with a solo event scheduled for mid September. He couldn’t wait. Who would show up and how much will they buy, he thought.
Little did Perry know that he was on the verge of meeting someone who’d eclipse those thoughts entirely. Her name was Elizabeth Beresford.
It was September 16th, a pleasant cool late summer evening in Soho. Perry Savich tried to relax as the opening of his solo show began. He and Mindy went over their last minute checklist ensuring everything was done, paintings hung with prices and relevant information check, food check, alcohol check, price-list check, music check, artist statement check. Perry looked at Mindy as the doors officially opened to M55 and crossed his fingers and said, ‘Well Mindy here’s goes nothing.’
She shook her head and replied in a motherly tone, ‘You’ll do just fine Perry. In fact I foresee you selling most if not all your pieces.’
‘Wouldn’t that be nice?,’ he smiled as he walked off to the makeshift bar to get a Balvenie.
The public started to filter in from the curious to serious aficionados and collectors. According to Mindy a critic or two would make an appearance and she promised to point them out to Perry considering she knew almost all of them in the New York after spending 30 years in the art scene. A friend of Perry’s named Keith Kewley who was a photographer for Conde Nast magazine dropped by to lend his support.
‘Hey Keith, thanks for coming. Didn’t think you’d be able to make it man. I thought you were flying out to Turkey today?’ Perry said.
Keith ran a hand through his curly brown hair and replied, ‘No way I’d miss your opening Perry. As for my flight it doesn’t leave until after midnight so no problemo.’ Perry always thought that if Keith failed to find photography work he could always act as the actor Jeff Bridges’ double. Same look and mannerisms of the famous celebrity. Keith had a knack for doing impressions of Jeff Bridges famous character, ‘The Dude’ from the film The Big Lebowski when it fitted him.
‘Well appreciate it Dudester,’ Perry patted him on the shoulder.
‘Oh, hey Perry somebody very big is gonna drop by. Just wanted you to know.’
‘Oh, who might this person be? Wait let me guess, Nora Cohen the critic from Artnews? Mindy said she might make an appearance.’
‘No sir. This person is many times younger and doesn’t have the whole Medusa thing going on at all,’ Keith motioned with his hand mimicking Nora’s wild hair and cringe worthy visage.
Perry chuckled and asked, ‘Okay so this person is a she. Hey, I know who it’s that Israeli girl in the IDF(Israeli Defense Force) what’s her name the one you’re crazy about, Sarah something or another.’
Keith smiled while helping himself to the food and shook his head, ‘Heh, I know you’re a connoisseur of beautiful women and an ardent fan of my little Sarah Friedman. Rest assured Perry, the person I’m referring to will equally amaze and astonish you because you have mentioned her many times over many brewskis.’
‘No shit? Okay man I give up. So just who is this incredible female?’
‘You know I’d love to torture you over whom I’m referring to but seeing that she’s shown up early all you have to do is spin around and look for yourself man,’ Keith replied doing his ‘Dude’ routine.
Perry did so and at first couldn’t tell who Keith was referring to. There were several couples, an older lady in her 60s, and even older gentleman in his 70s wearing a peach ascot with black beret. ‘Keith who precisely are you speaking about?’ Perry tried to ask before seeing a girl wearing a white blouse, black vest, leggings, and black boots. She was bending down to get a better view of detail from one painting whilst biting her thumbnail. ‘Yep partner that’s her,’ Keith nudged. A proverbial light bulb went off over Perry’s head. The girl’s facial profile, her nail biting, the way she stood, and her long straight brown hair.
‘Holy shit is that?’ Perry asked turning to Keith.
‘Miss Elizabeth Anne Beresford herself, in the flesh looking at your work. She’s quite something isn’t she?’
‘My God it is. It’s her. I can’t believe it,’ Perry said his palms getting sweaty and his heartbeat racing.
Elizabeth Thalia Beresford was one of Hollywood’s premiere A list celebrities. Her net worth was reputed to be around 32 million pounds and thus far she was a sure fire money maker for the film industry. Elizabeth’s name carried weight and as such she was employed not only in films but by representing the products worldwide for the make-up giant L’Oreal and fashion designer Jason Wu.
Elizabeth Beresford was born and raised in Guildford, southwest of London. Before she made it big she had managed to appear in several commercials for television by the age of eight and nine. She then appeared on a children’s program produced by Yorkshire Television called ‘Spyglass’. Her mother Ruth who once worked in radio discovered that there was to be a casting call for a new movie called ‘The George Street Gang’ being produced by the studio giant Fantasia Productions. She arranged to have her daughter try for a part, in fact any part in the production.
Thousands of girls aged 11-13 vied for the part of Frances ‘Frankie’ Rhodes, a plucky tomboyish English girl who formed part of the ‘Gang’ along with five other characters (4 male and two female) ranging in age from 10-15 years of age. There other female role was for a character named Joy Fitzlyon, a wealthy snobbish type which stood as an alternative for any girl who wasn’t chosen to portray Frances.
After multiple call backs and readings Elizabeth got the part. No one had any notion just how successful the first film was to become, but it broke box office records. Who would’ve figured a story revolving around a group of friends in 1930s England who find action, mystery, and adventure could capture the imagination of so many people, young people especially, around the world. The first film led to six additional George Street Gang movies, for a total of 7 films that propelled the young actors into the limelight, their names becoming household items. With merchandising Fantasia Productions earned a whopping return for it’s initial investment in the first film. For the actors like Elizabeth it earned them an immense cushion of cash and admittance into the big leagues.
‘Well don’t just stand around looking stupid, go up and talk to her,’ Keith said munching on a cracker.
‘Are you joking? That’s the Elizabeth Beresford, the freaking actress, an A list celebrity. That is Frances Rhodes from the George Street Gang movies. Dude Frances Rhodes,’ Perry replied taking a big gulp of Balvenie.
‘Hmmm, she’s talking to Mindy about something. Looks like she’s done a job hiding her bodacious ta-tas from the looks of her outfit, but you can still tell her twin girls cannot be fully hidden,’ Keith winked taking a sip of beer.
‘How the hell did you know she was coming tonight?’ Perry asked.
‘Well you know Marla Staples from Conde don’t you?’ Keith inquired.
‘The one with the really bizarre glasses and annoying voice?’
‘You got it. Well she knows Miss Beresford’s manager Nicole Ashby. Anyhow to make a long story short Marla discovers that Elizabeth is in town to be on the Letterman Show and tells me in a passing conversation whereby, I hand Marla a card from this show to be given to Nicole who no doubt handed it over to sweet Miss Beresford who just happens to be a big fan of art.’
‘You sly devil you,’ Perry smiled. ‘But come on Keith she’s an A-lister. She wouldn’t talk to me I’m a nobody’.
‘You’re a what? Come on Perry man you got a lot to proud of. You’re an artis
t buddy. She loves art and by the way dude she no longer has a boyfriend.’
‘No way. I just saw some photos on the net of her with some guy coming out from some fancy store in London,’ Perry smirked.
‘Oh, man like you’re putting out serious negative waves here. That guy is history, trust me just like she’s gonna be if you don’t go up and talk with her right away man,’ Keith ordered.
Perry saw her in the crowd going over the last pieces in his show. It was now or never. He consoled himself to be as professional as possible and introduce himself and ask if she liked his work. He zigzagged his way through the throng of people until he stopped just behind her right shoulder. As it turned out she was studying his most favorite painting from his series. He sidled up next to her and said, ‘I love this piece.’
She turned to him and replied, ‘Yes, it is quite nice, quite effective.’ Perry’s legs felt like spaghetti and he thought to himself, ‘Oh, man her accent! Elizabeth Beresford just talked to me!’
He pushed himself to begin a conversation with her. It wasn’t easy without stumbling over his words, ‘T-This area uh, over here is rather sublime,’ he motioned over a portion of the painting.
‘Yes quite almost an homage to Frank Zeigler. I rather like that,’ she replied looking straight at the canvas.
‘What do you make of the small works on the far wall?’
‘Mmmmmm, I’m rather intrigued by those large three vertical pieces. I think the artist has discovered something profound in that work. I’m quite certain he had a rather interesting venture working on them. I’d love to ask the artist himself about that,’ she said.
Perry caught himself peeking at her cleavage while she looked in the other direction. Milky soft white skin. ‘Oh well ask away,’ he smiled.
‘I’m sorry?’ she asked.
‘I’m the artist.’
‘Oh, my goodness. I had no idea,’ she smiled which melted his heart in an instant.
‘I’m Perry Savich,’ he extended his hand.
‘Elizabeth Beresford, it’s nice to meet you Perry. You have quite a nice show.’
They chatted about art, and in particular artists whom they admired. To Perry’s surprise they both shared similar tastes and preferences. She knowledgeable enough for Perry to consider her something of an art nerd, a thought he kept to himself. He tried not to be in awe of merely sitting down and talking to such a big celebrity. Elizabeth appeared receptive and did not seem the least bit bored which was a huge relief to Perry. She even laughed at a few things he said especially when he said, ‘Henri Matisse’s long lost brother just walked in,’ regarding a visitor. A few people in the crowd did approach the two during their discussion to ask Elizabeth for her autograph which she gave with a smile, and to comment that they were big fans of her work.
It was then that Perry let on that he recognized her for who she was, ‘Ah, you did those George Street movies right? I thought you looked familiar. You played uh what was her name, Frankie?’
‘Yes, Frances Rhodes,’ she replied her smile and attention broken by a camera flash outside coming from the street.
‘Uh, oh,’ Perry frowned at the flashing. ‘Fans of yours?’
‘Paparazzi I’m afraid, and no they aren’t friends. Look I’d love to carry on our discussion some other place if you’d like,’ she suggested.
Perry didn’t even think twice before replying, ‘There’s a side entrance all the way to the back,’ he nodded.
‘Perry I don’t wish to take you away from your responsibilities here.’
‘No, not all. Mindy can take over I’m sure. Hey, are you hungry?’ he asked.
‘Yes, famished actually,’ she smiled.
‘Great, let me ask a friend for direction to an Italian place. Do you like Italian?’
‘Yes indeed.’
‘Fantastic, I’ll meet you in the back and we can make a getaway,’ Perry remarked before going to seek out Keith.
There was Keith debating with another guy over who served the best Pastrami and Rye sandwiches in Boston. Perry cleared his throat and got Keith’s attention, ‘Hey where’s that Italian joint you always rave about?’
Louise
- 19.01.2022
- 17
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