Lydia just needed a job and as a former housewife and mom, a live-in housekeeper position seemed ideal. Lonely and unappreciated for many years, she was flattered when she found herself complimented repeatedly during her interview. To be called beautiful was such a treat, she felt very good about herself. But to be desired, that was the icing on the cake.

~~~~~ PG Excerpt ~~~~~

Lydia nodded and was about to reply when she heard someone whistling. She looked back to the foyer to see a lean, bespectacled man wearing only a terrycloth half-robe. He was sort of strolling while making marks on a sketchpad with a pencil.

Dana smiled. "Oh Lars, darling, come in here and meet Lydia. She's here for the housekeeper position."

The man was in his forties, and when he turned to Lydia, he did a double take. With obvious interest, he walked into the room and set the pad and pencil down on a chair without taking his eyes off her.

Lars approached her slowly, examining Lydia from head to toe. His light blonde curls seemed unkept in a wild but not unattractive sort of way, and his hazel eyes seemed to examine every detail of her body. She felt her pulse race as he removed his wire-frame glasses and beamed at her.

"My dear, you are incredibly attractive. Would you mind disrobing for me?" he asked with no hesitation or shyness in his expression.

Lydia's shock was apparent on her face. "Would I mind ... what?"

Dana spoke up. "I'm sorry, but my husband is an artist. He paints nudes." She looked at her husband lovingly. "He's also somewhat lacking in social graces. He once asked the mayor's wife the same question at a dinner party."

Lars was in his own little world at that moment. In his eyes, Lydia was just exquisite, a beautiful gem of a woman. About five feet ten inches tall, Lydia was tall for a woman with a fine, thick body type. She had very large breasts and hips, with a round ass that would have made Botticelli weep for joy. He was captivated by her Mediterranean skin tone and black, wavy hair that she wore long, to her shoulder blades. Her deep green eyes caught his, and he gazed into them adoringly for long moments.

Dana smiled and rose from the couch, and when she looked again at her guest, she saw the shocked look on Lydia's face had changed to recognition.

Lydia gaped at the half-naked man. "Wait, you're the Lars Freebody?" She asked incredulously and Lars simply smiled and nodded. Freebody's work was sometimes discounted by critics as it leaned toward the risqué, but that didn't keep his paintings from selling for obscene amounts of money.

"I've been such a fan of your work." she said, wide-eyed.

The man barely heard her. He looked at his wife, excited. "She's perfect. Hire her."

Dana laughed and nodded. "My husband is entering a new period, if you will. Like Picasso had his blue period. He wants to do more ... Rubenesque women now, like Botticelli. I had a feeling he might like you."

"Yes, I would very much like to paint you. I hope you come here to stay with us," the half-naked man said before turning and stepping into the foyer again.

Lydia turned back to Dana. "My husband didn't like my ... figure. He called me fat. And I suppose he was right. I found it very difficult to lose weight after our second child and I'm a lousy dieter."

Lydia heard the man's bare feet stop on the tile floor behind her, and she turned to him. "Nonsense, my dear. The man sounds like an idiot. You've got a fine hourglass figure with ripe hips and bust. I cannot wait to see you naked." Then man turned again and walked away after picking up his pad and pencil.