over the cobblestones and through the narrow streets to their destinations all over Paris, the Coreys were strolling through the peace and quiet of the deserted museum looking at some of the finest paintings in the world. They were among the last ever to see the famous collection of Monets in the small and intimate Jeu de Paume, because the exhibit had officially closed the day before. The entire collection which had stirred so many hearts and minds was leaving the little museum for theLouvre that very day. News of its closing had saddened Mirella. She had expressed to Adam that she would have liked to have shared the experience of seeing them in the Jeu de Paume with him, never dreaming that it was possible. Adam made it possible. The Monets were Mirella’s passion. She adored being surrounded by them. Just Mirella and Adam and the water lilies.
He was swept up into the power and beauty of the collection, even more so by their seeing it under these perfect circumstances, in the exquisite silence and emptiness of the gallery, and his sharing it only with the woman he loved. He felt a new kind of passion rising in him out of the sheer love of this richly various woman. He could feel his heart beat just a little faster, and a smile broke slowly across his handsome face. He walked up to her; taking her hands in his, he lifted them to his lips and kissed them tenderly.
“Oh, Adam, this is such an extraordinary end to an altogether extraordinary day!” Together then they absorbed the paintings, and for some time before Adam announced they had to leave, they lost themselves in the mind and imagination of that great painter who had left to the world his creations from which others might receive enjoyment or enrichment in their lives. The paintings were not at all lost on the Coreys. Indeed, their minds and their hearts, their very souls took flight and soared.
They thanked the men for arranging this artistic aubade, a farewell to the Monets in this perfect setting. Then they left the Jeu de Paume as they had come, through the side door where their car waited. The dazzle of Monet’s color, the shifting floral shapes, still captivated their memories. It had been a visual high. Words were banished by the intensity of their impressions. Mirell leaned against Adam’s shoulder as the Rolls picked up speed, leaving her beloved Paris behind, and headed for the airport.
The sun was just rising in the sky when they boarded Mirella’s jet, the latest Grumman Gulfstream. No sooner were they aboard than the steps disappeared, the doors closed, the motors revved, and the plane started rolling down the runway.
Once the pilot announced they were airborne, they freed themselves from their seat belts, rose from their comfortable, raw silk club chairs, still dressed in their gala finery, and went through the main cabin to the master bedroom. There Mirella sat down at the dressing table to remove her tiara and jewels. A little overdressed for flying, she ruminated.
Adam stood near the large double bed, also shedding his clothes. He watched Mirella in the mirror and was enchanted by the scene. He slipped his arms through the sleeves of his black silk robe and walked up behind her to place his hands on her naked shoulders. He kissed the top of her head, not taking his eyes off her face reflected in the mirror. Slowly and lovingly he removed the long pins from her hair. It fell down in waves around her shoulders. He gathered some of it in his hands, buried his face in it, and then kissed it. Bending forward, he touched his cheek to hers. Two lovers reflected in a mirror.
She reached up and touched his bare chest, turned around where she sat and gently pulled him down and kissed him tenderly on the lips, then turned back to look again in the mirror.
Adam slowly eased the straps of her crimson gown off her shoulders and down over her arms, lifting first one, then the other, so that the crêpe de chine top slid down to the tip of her breasts.
He was swept up into the power and beauty of the collection, even more so by their seeing it under these perfect circumstances, in the exquisite silence and emptiness of the gallery, and his sharing it only with the woman he loved. He felt a new kind of passion rising in him out of the sheer love of this richly various woman. He could feel his heart beat just a little faster, and a smile broke slowly across his handsome face. He walked up to her; taking her hands in his, he lifted them to his lips and kissed them tenderly.
“Oh, Adam, this is such an extraordinary end to an altogether extraordinary day!” Together then they absorbed the paintings, and for some time before Adam announced they had to leave, they lost themselves in the mind and imagination of that great painter who had left to the world his creations from which others might receive enjoyment or enrichment in their lives. The paintings were not at all lost on the Coreys. Indeed, their minds and their hearts, their very souls took flight and soared.
They thanked the men for arranging this artistic aubade, a farewell to the Monets in this perfect setting. Then they left the Jeu de Paume as they had come, through the side door where their car waited. The dazzle of Monet’s color, the shifting floral shapes, still captivated their memories. It had been a visual high. Words were banished by the intensity of their impressions. Mirell leaned against Adam’s shoulder as the Rolls picked up speed, leaving her beloved Paris behind, and headed for the airport.
The sun was just rising in the sky when they boarded Mirella’s jet, the latest Grumman Gulfstream. No sooner were they aboard than the steps disappeared, the doors closed, the motors revved, and the plane started rolling down the runway.
Once the pilot announced they were airborne, they freed themselves from their seat belts, rose from their comfortable, raw silk club chairs, still dressed in their gala finery, and went through the main cabin to the master bedroom. There Mirella sat down at the dressing table to remove her tiara and jewels. A little overdressed for flying, she ruminated.
Adam stood near the large double bed, also shedding his clothes. He watched Mirella in the mirror and was enchanted by the scene. He slipped his arms through the sleeves of his black silk robe and walked up behind her to place his hands on her naked shoulders. He kissed the top of her head, not taking his eyes off her face reflected in the mirror. Slowly and lovingly he removed the long pins from her hair. It fell down in waves around her shoulders. He gathered some of it in his hands, buried his face in it, and then kissed it. Bending forward, he touched his cheek to hers. Two lovers reflected in a mirror.
She reached up and touched his bare chest, turned around where she sat and gently pulled him down and kissed him tenderly on the lips, then turned back to look again in the mirror.
Adam slowly eased the straps of her crimson gown off her shoulders and down over her arms, lifting first one, then the other, so that the crêpe de chine top slid down to the tip of her breasts.
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