| Beitrag |
On one day, early in the still fresh and dewy morning hours, the art dealer finally set out for the journey. He had long been hesitating to make his way to another painting, to the woman inside another painting, so intense was the memory of Olympia. He was longing for more, but back in his daily life, it was harder imagining the woman in the picture to become alive or that she would tell him her desires! The more time passed, the more convinced he was him being a fool, an idiot, worse, a schizophrenic! But in the most pleasant possible way his longing to unveil the mysteries of the women in the paintings, his longing to fulfill their desires, for uniting again with one of these women was almost unbearable! He was sweating at night and yawning at daytimes, still wretched and tired from his lust and erotic dreams at night, dreams of naked women in paintings, beautiful female shapes, breasts and round and seductive hips and their long legs. In his dreams he was confronted with the longings of those precious women. As much as he wished to identify these women’s or the paintings from which they originated, his dreams were fuzzy and the identities of these women remained obscure. Nevertheless, it seemed almost as if he was longing to break into their lives violently, to uncover what was theirs, treasures protected for centuries. Now, one of them, Olympia, had asked him to be the intruder! To tear off the veils that were covering their secrets of lust, the secrets that they harbored ever since having been painted. Would not all alarm bells ring, then, denouncing him as a thief. Not a thief of paintings, but nevertheless a thief, a thief of secrets. But still…, this is what Olympia wanted him to do. So he vacillated once more, but then he could no longer resist as he remembered Olympia speak. It was her wish, her desire! He had to obey her.
During the last night at home, he had a dream again, but this time, he could identify the painting! Who else but Venus herself could it be to call him! He had not cared much for that painter, Lukas Cranach the Elder, and Renaissance art was not in his focus of interest. He only owned a dusty copy of a Cranach painting; it was in a dark corner of his collection. He had to admit, he had forgotten about this painting. But now it appeared in his dream. And he was sure, this was the soft and seducing call of Venus herself!
He set out for the journey the next morning, for which he had to travel to Frankfurt in Germany. All his hesitations had disappeared as he traveled to Frankfurt, however, his heart beat strongly already on the airport in Frankfurt, and stronger than ever when he entered the museum door of the Städel museum, where the picture was displayed.
At daytime, first, he saw her, among the other visitors, and really she was the holder of the veil. And she was not shy, the way she showed her body. What secret could she hide? The veil did not hide anything. Which left her wonderful female body to be seen freely. but seemingly still covering her secret!
The look out of her lustrous eyes, cat-like, was seductive and cunning at the same time. She was fully aware of her femininity, and what she could get for it from any man! The Art Dealer’s knees felt soft and he felt besieged by thoughts of desire, of lust, already. He knew, she would get anything from him she desired, and could he be united with her, in her, he would dedicate his life to fulfill her wishes…
So he remained, silently, in the museum, until closing time. He knew how to hide when the museum closed. When daylight faded, he was alone and undetected with Venus.
He was surrounded by deep silence. Only his heart beat so loud he thought he would wake her up and he could already detect his rising lust underneath his trousers as he looked intensely at her beauty in the painting. “What is your desire…” he finally whispered. And yes, it happened again! She moved her left hand and let the end of the veil fall. Softly she now caressed her own body with her free hand! Moving up to her breasts, to her nipple, which stiffened visibly under the touch of her fingertips. And all the time she looked at him, and he returned her gaze and discovered her wild longing for him. And she continued to caress her body seductively for him, showing him how much she loved herself, how much she loved to be an erotic woman, how much she was to give and receive love. And downwards moved her hand and her fingertips found that special place between her legs, which she opened for him, to let him see how much she enjoyed lust. She looked at him all the time, and as her fingers moved, slowly circling around her clitoris, she nodded at him. He stood up, feeling his trousers being quite narrow now, and she let him approach her. She received him, bending her upper body out of the painting, and kissed him, long and deeply. She let him caress her clitoris, and he did it carefully, not to damage the painting, When her rose swelled and the color of the flesh darkened and she became wet from a rush of lust, he quickened his movements until she moaned wildly with lust. Soon she could not hold back any longer, and she stepped out of the painting fully. The Art Dealer’s trousers fell down to the floor and as she stepped up closely to him, he was already gliding into her, effortlessly penetrating her femaleness that was wet as the ocean.
And when he came inside her, it was not him and her any more, there was just the wild pure energy of a wild untamed ocean. When the powerful feeling finally ebbed away, he found himself in her arms, drained yet deeply satisfied. And now Venus began to speak to him, softly:
“I know, you came for my desire. But I fulfilled your desire. I shall now reveal to you my secret: look at the veil I carry, it covers nothing. Nothing that you wish to see but much that you cannot see. It covers my female energy. My body is an illusion, an invention of the painter. Men believe in that illusion, they look through the veil and they do not discover what is hidden. We women of the paintings, we know about the nature of perception of lust, of emotions, perception which is nothing but transitory. But such perception renders men dependent on women, to experience the again and again the perception of lust, of sexuality. That’s why men must possess us again and again, because the perception remains as elusive as it is transitory. That’s why I can dominate you, in this very moment. You believe in my picture, my illusion, but I AM the illusion. My image is an illusion, but the veil hides my secret, the secret which is real. How strong must you be, to be able to live and love in that world with the knowledge that what you are longing for most of all, is an illusion? Could you bear it? Women have that ability, that makes them able to play with illusions… and behind it, behind the veil there is nothing but pure energy. The energy of orgasm.”
Venus paused as if to let here words sink in. The n she continued: “Buddha, yes, listen, Buddha was a woman. That is my secret. She taught me, Buddha taught Venus. I have carried this secret for centuries untold, and now I ask you, who experienced with me the pure energy of orgasm: go and find the female Buddha. She is still there, among all the other male ascetic Buddha statues who have been made because the people could not bear the truth, would not want to understand that it was a woman who had conquered the last truth, that behind the illusionary nature of all beings was only her energy. Only when a couple unites that energy is bearable, is welcomed and embraced and we can find a way back to that pure energy. Go and unveil Buddha! That is my desire.” |
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