The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

May 1944

Soho District Flat, London

As soon as Carol Templeton closed the door to her flat she knew she was going to have sex with Jack. She didn’t want it, and she wondered if she actually needed it.

The fact was, it was going to happen. He was irresistible, and no wonder why. She loved the physical attraction that they always seemed to have for each other. Jack was 26, over six feet tall, and had very broad shoulders. He was a well built man, and very athletic. His soft blue eyes and light brown hair completed the deadly countenance. She knew he played something called baseball back home in America, to stay in shape, but she really didn’t understand what that was. Caroline thought Jack looked great in his olive drab officer’s uniform, especially with aviator wings.

There was another thing. Jack was the only man who never treated her like a whore. Other men did, and there were lots of other men. He liked her a lot, and she knew it. He proved it by painting her on the nose of his B-17. “Temptation,” he called it. It was his pet name for her. He started calling her that the day he painted her on his plane. Jack took her into combat everyday he flew.

Caroline knew he came from money. He told her he was married and it was a bad one, no love there. The fact he was married made things easier between them. There were no strings, no attachments. If things got too tight Caroline knew she could put the squeeze on him for money. She made sure, however, that possibility would never happen. She didn’t want that for them.

Caroline never brought a man to her flat before. It was her sanctuary, her safe haven. But after a night of dancing together at the Palladium and the USO, Jack insisted on seeing her home. She tried to get rid of him, but he lingered, and then insisted on coming in and seeing the entire flat.

He roamed around the place with a look that Caroline could only take as astonishment. After all, her place was well kept, clean, with fancy feminine ornaments, and expensive furniture. It was as different as night to day, at least as to his own personal preferences. Caroline knew Jack was something of a slob. He told her so. She was sure that there were run down neighborhoods back where he was from. The Soho area, however, was something less then what he must have been used to back home in San Francisco.

Caroline took up a sexy, sultry pose, leaning on the door frame watching him.

“I like your flat,” he said. “You must have a genius for cloak and dagger. Who would have thought what this place looked like considering what I saw outside. Just who are you, Mata Hari?” he said laughing. “Does my neighborhood matter?” she said a little defensively. “No honey, not in the least.”

Slowly he walked towards her with lust in his eyes. She knew that look all too well.

She tried to defuse it. “Well this is my hovel. I’m glad you like it.” She then looked away and tried to walk by him.

Jack grabbed her and their eyes locked. “Oh God, what have I done.” She said softly and sighed.

He told her many times she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. She loved hearing that, and actually thought he meant it once or twice.

Jack cupped her cheeks into his hands and lovingly gazed into her eyes. He said, “Your eyes could hypnotize, darling. They could just hold me forever.”

Jack told her many times, he thought her eyes looked like Dorothy Lamour’s, bright and sultry. He then began to gently stroke her hair in just the way she loved. Jack was always stroking her hair. It was black, long and wavy.

He drew her into a tight hug and squeezed. Not a word was spoken. She knew somehow that it was different this time. She was too scared to acknowledge or accept anything new between them.

Finally he pulled away and said, “I don’t want to fuck this up.”

“Neither do I,” Caroline said while absently twirling her string of pearls. “I think you should go now.”

“There’s a time and place for everything,” he said. “And this is the time and place I’m going to kiss you and make you mine.”

He took close hold of her again and slowly started to nibble on her ear. She tried to fight the feeling by pulling away, but she knew it was hopeless.

“Jack stop it! Hmmm.”

“OK”

“Jack, I mean it. Ohhh!”

“I know you do.”

Jack then kissed her hard. Their tongues dueling in a lust filled pleasure dance. She broke the kiss off and said, “Jack this is the time and place that you should pick me up and carry me to the bedroom.

“Pick you up?” he asked incredulously.

“I could crawl, I suppose,” She said and smiled.

He laughed, scooped her up, and carried her into the bedroom. He laid her carefully on her bed and started to take off his shoes.

In a very deliberate manner, she reached for the bottom of her wool sweater and pulled it over her head.

He looked up at her and marveled. She then reached back and unhooked her brassiere so he could see her perfect, perky breasts. The nipples were a light brown and puffy.

She laid back and smiled as he ripped his uniform off. Caroline appreciated his quickness with a chuckle. The uniform was tailored and expensive, but he just tossed the pieces away. It didn’t matter to him. She knew those things weren’t important to him.

“I want you,” he whispered. Jack moved over to her. He touched her gently and cupped her firm breasts. Caroline liked the way he handled them. Then he slowly rubbed his thumbs over her nipples. Back and forth, very slowly. She moaned out her approval.

He then straddled her and bent down to suck those irresistible orbs. Jack took slow, deliberate care licking and stroking the nipple with his tongue before he consumed it. He worked his magic on one and then moved on to her other. He pulled and tugged on the nipple he wasn’t ingesting.

“Oh yes Jack. Oh yes love. Just like that.” Caroline gasped and threw her beautiful head back, the wavy, dark black hair hanging straight down.

Caroline was in near ecstasy. She thought they made love very passionately before, but this was getting white hot. Her pussy was wet and overflowing.

She bent down and started to stroke his cock. It was already thick and hard.

Caroline pushed him over and then just before she took his cock into her mouth said, “Jack we’re going to make this night last forever.” She then attacked Jack’s cock, licking and stroking it. Jack’s face took on a lustful expression as Caroline began sucking his long, thick rod in earnest.

“Oh not yet,” he moaned when he was close to exploding. “I want this to last too.”

He pulled her off. He moved behind her as she removed her slacks and silk panties. Caroline quickly moved on all fours. She knew his moves by heart now. They had spent a lot of time together.

“I want to be inside you Caroline. I need to be inside you now.”

Jack was poking and stroking her wet, shiny, pussy up and down with his thick cock. Caroline wanted him in her now, so she pushed back and he entered her. Oh yes! Fill me up Jack. Fill me with your cock!”

Back and forth, in and out, it was beautiful. She heard him call out his favorite nickname for her. “Temptation!” Again. “Oh yeah, Temptation lets ride!” They were connected now with heat, sweat, and lust. They feed each other for a long time, maybe hours, time just stood still.

She loved the feeling of being filled by him. Caroline knew however, that he couldn’t hold out much longer. None of her other men ever lasted this long. His huge cock tensed up, she could feel it. He moaned loudly and was breathing heavily. Then he finally did it and found his release.

“Jack!” she screamed out as he exploded in her. Caroline hit her orgasm at the same time as she stroked her clit.

Jack then slowly rolled on his back and dragged her with him.

“Wow,” she said softly.

“Yeah, that about sums it up.” Jack smiled into the darkness and stroked one hand up and down her arm as she snuggled in close.

Caroline tipped her head back on his chest to look up at him. Jack was already falling in a slumber. She knew he had a lot on his mind.

She thought. “Maybe it’s his last mission and he’s scared. He has to go back to his bomber group, in Thorpe Abbots in the morning.” Jack once said his group, the 100th Bomb Group, always took the heaviest loses. “Maybe, it was if he survives, he would be going back to San Francisco and their magic would soon be history.”

It surprised her that she gave it so much thought. “Do I really care that much about this man?” She wondered.

Whatever he had on his mind would have to wait until morning. Soon Caroline fell fast a sleep too. Still cuddled closely in his arms.

Early the next morning, she woke him up to the smell of bangers and eggs frying. She never cooked for a man before. But then she never felt this way about any man before. Whatever that was. She didn’t want to go there.

“I’ve seen a lot of men. They’re just a dime a dozen. Maybe he is too,” she thought.

He came up behind her in the kitchen, grabbed her, and then kissed her neck.

She wheeled around and softly stroked his arm and saw that look in his eyes. Then she said, “Talk to me, Jack. Tell me what’s going on. Let me in.”

Jack sat down and just spilled everything out. He said, “I’m thinking about us. About you.”

Caroline said. “Jack you don’t have to.”

“Caroline I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I’m leaving my wife. She never loved me. Hell, we never loved each other.”

“Don’t spoil it, Jack.” She turned towards the kitchen window looking out as tears began to fall. She continued, “Jack you’re just saying what you think I want to hear. Well I won’t be lied to!” It was time to protect herself.

“Oh so I’m lying.” She could see his anger rising. “Temptation, I’ve never lied to you, not now, not ever!” He handed her a bundle of envelopes he brought with him. “I knew you’d think I was stuffed, so read these.” They were laid out on the table.

“Jack listen, people like you don’t marry people like me.”

“I’m not like people like me, Caroline. You already know that. Just sit and read, please.”

Bewildered, she slowly sat down at the kitchen table and opened an envelope. Meanwhile, Jack moved over to the stove and took over cooking breakfast as he watched her read.

There were several letters and forms here. First, there was a letter from his wife granting a divorce, she was actually replying to a letter he sent months ago. His wife couldn’t wait to get rid of him.

Caroline tries to hide her emotions as she read. “He asked her for a divorce? Is he daft? Why didn’t he tell me?”

There was another letter from his sister Alma, telling him not to worry about anything. His family and money were safe. She would look after things for him at home and actually looked forward to meeting Caroline when Jack could bring her home.

“He actually mentioned me to his family?” She tried hard to repress her hope. She wondered if Jack could read her thoughts or see that her heart racing.

Then a letter from an artist friend from New York, a man named Vargas. Jack had a painted a canvas of Caroline, like the one on his B-17. He sold it to Vargas, and now he was going make her famous as a pinup girl. A Vargas Girl!

“Wow Jack! Are you crazy?” She said aloud as she looked up at him.

She looked back down to the last piece of paper. It looked official, it was actually orders, reassigning Jack to 8Th Air Force HQ, in Wycombe, after he flew his final mission and his tour was over. He was staying here!

“Oh Jack can this be real? Is this really happening? You’re the only man I’ve ever loved or will love.”

He suddenly looked stern. Caroline was frozen.

Jack simply said. “No more men.”

Her reply was just as simple, “No more men.”

She leapt out of the chair and into his arms. They both smiled and hugged. After breakfast they spent a long, hot, shower together. Caroline then told Jack she wanted to get married and have a family. They made plans for their future together.

Later she walked him outside to the waiting cab. It was time for him to go back to Thorpe Abbots and his final mission.

They hugged one final time. Caroline looked up at her man. It felt good to think of Jack that way. She had tears in her eyes. “You took a big chance Jack.” She then said laughing. “You better get back to me safe, and make an honest woman out of me.”

“Well, I never could fight Temptation.” He then removed a chain around his neck. It was his St. Christopher’s medal. Jack next removed the wedding band from his finger, unclasped the chain, and slid the ring on next to the medal. He put it around her neck as he fastened it.

She looked back confused, until she realized what is was and what it meant. “Just my bona fidies ma lady. Take care of this until I get back”

They kissed, said their goodbyes, and waved as Jack left for the train station. He still had one more mission to fly. She would count the hours until she saw him again.

Present Day

Vermont Street Apartment, San Francisco

“Ah yeah. Oh yes!” John moaned in his sleep. He started to roll a little restlessly, side to side. Then he felt something. Something warm and moist on his cock. This dream was getting better and better. John’s cock stiffened. “Yes, that’s it. That’s good, Lydia. Just like that.”

Moist. Warm. Sliding up and down his hard cock. Soft flicking across and under the head. “Oh lord, dreams like these are just like the real thing.” He thought groggily.

“Whoa. Oh man!” John could barely open his heavy lidded eyes. He saw that it was still dark in their apartment.

He was too tired. Too tired to think. “Who needs to think”? He reached down and gently nudged the back of Lydia’s blonde head forward. She lowered her mouth over his cock and engulfed it.

John now waking up and somewhat aware said. “Lydia what the.” He suddenly stopped talking when she worked his cock into her throat. “She’s never acted like this before. Oh this is going to be good,” he thought. “I love it.”

His grin was as wide as a split watermelon. “Oh boy life is great,” he thought.

Moaning and thrusting his hips faintly, John felt a stirring in his loins. His balls were drawing up, ready to unload its cargo. He was set to cum. Then suddenly…

Lydia pulled off. Without a word she looked at John with a look of pure lust, pure desire. John had never seen an animal like demeanor about her at all. “A little wicked,” he thought and smiled back at her.

He was speechless, confused, and naturally a little frustrated. The moment took only seconds, but seemed frozen in time. Here he was, about to go to heaven, then Lydia drops him off in purgatory. John was about to express his displeasure about the moment being spoiled, when Lydia does something even more out of character. She reached down and grabbed both sides of the small flap, the business end of Jack’s boxers. With surprising brut force, reaching around John’s stiff cock, Lydia ripped them apart.

Lydia was already nude, even before John was awake. Amazingly still speechless, he breathlessly watched her mount him and then lowered herself onto his hard, thick, cock. Lydia rocked back and forth working in him deeper. She then closed her eyes tightly with the joy of pure lust. John could see she was lost in her own little world. Now she was scaring him. To say this was out of character was an understatement .

“Ah Lydia? Lydia?” She gave him no reply. “Lydia!” He said again much louder. But now John was starting to boil over again. He always hated to disturb someone when they’re in the middle of important work.

He thought, “Oh hell just go for it, a moment like this may not happen again in a million years.”

She was already moaning and breathing heavily, so was he.

“Lydia!” John groaned out. “Oh yeah ride me, baby. Ride that pony.”

Oh, I’ll give you a ride all right.” It was the first words she spoken in all this time. “I’ll give you the ride of your life, John.”

He loved to watch her big globe like tits bounce up and down. They weren’t real, but they were paid for. But who really cared about that right now. John shook his head back to reality, whatever that was. He could feel Lydia’s blonde furry pussy scratch his balls until she started gushing all over him.

“How’s that John? How do you like your ride now? Huh?”

“Yeah! Oh yes. Keep going. Don’t stop!” He was rolling his eyes into the back of his head.

He was very deep inside her now. John looked at her and considered how extraordinarily beautiful Lydia was. Her blond hair pulled back in a French braid was very sexy. Lydia was a full bodied woman, not fat by any means; she exercised daily and took great care with her health. She was almost six feet, wide hips, which he fully appreciated at the moment.

She rocked back and forth, seemingly forever. Lydia was soft, wet, and warm inside. Then John’s heart started pounding, his brain screaming for release. The need to started hammering at him; he swallowed hard, looked up at her and said, “I’m going to explode. I’ve got to cum.”

Lydia didn’t wait for him. She already had her orgasm, that he could tell. However, at that instant, she rolled off of him and walked away.

John was stunned. He watched her exquisite ass sashay away, again without a word to the bathroom. She closed the door. John waited for a few moments. “She’ll come up with another surprise.” He thought. But soon he heard the shower turn on and new that was the end of it.

John yelled out in utter frustration. “What in the hell was that!” He got no response. He thought he should get up and join Lydia, but didn’t. Obviously something was amiss here. He laid back down to go over just what the heck transpired.

As soon as he started to wonder, the water in the shower stopped. “Oh good, round two,” he said aloud.

Lydia emerged from the bathroom in her navy blue business suit. She was smacking her dark red lips together, as if she just applied lipstick. Her appearance was calm, refreshed, and she was leaving for work.

She was heading for the door. It was then that John noticed two pieces of luggage by the door. He wrapped a sheet around him and quickly popped out of bed.

Lydia just what in hell was that,” he demanded walking toward her. Lydia just responded by a pushing John away.

She then simply said, “We’re through John, it was fun while it lasted. We were never etched in stone.”

“What are you doing Lydia? You’re actually leaving me? Why?” the anger was rising in his voice.

“Well since you’re so simple John, I’ll just spell it out for you. I gave you a chance to make something of yourself. You flopped.” Lydia’s voice was calm, resigned, and distant. “My father offered you a position as a graphic artist in his company. Did you take it, no! You wanted to take the hard road, go your own way. Christ, my father and I could have made you a VP by now.

“So you moved down here, south of Market, with all these other artists, losers, and friends of yours around here. I’m not a loser John and I won’t be any part of someone who is.”

”So I’m a loser now? That’s what you think of me?”

”I’ll send for the rest of my things later.”

John just looked on in disbelief and pain. He’d been used.

“Another thing. I’m not your maid and I’m not your mother,” as she swept her hand around the studio apartment. It was dark and a little unclean. John’s clothes, painting equipment, and canvases were haphazardly strewn around the room. “You have money and live like a slob, hire a maid!” She looked him scornfully and paused as if she expected a response. John wasn’t ready to comment.

“John, I won’t live this way and I can’t live with you, not anymore.”

He had his hands on his hips the whole time waiting until she ran out of steam. Lydia wasn’t through yet.

“You have money and came from an upstanding family. We could live better and you just refuse. My father always wondered if you took drugs or were you always this way. You live the hard way and I’m done with it. Oh, and by the way, your paintings are just mediocre, at best. You’ve only sold three in what three years?” There it was. Her parting shot.

That did it! The right button was pushed. It stung. But it was time to make a change.

“Well I’m a big boy, Lydia, and I don’t need you crawling up my ass because I didn’t live my life the way you spoiled brats do. Yeah, I have money, but I live this way because it suits me.” As for my artist friends—He didn’t get to finish. There was a sound of loud car horn blasting outside interrupting him. Lydia and John looked at each other and knew any more words would be useless and a waste of time. Suddenly, it looked like the day would be filled with unfinished business.

He walked to the window and looked out. He saw a “suite type” waiting by a black BMW, looking back up him and his apartment.

“Thanks for the goodbye fuck,” he said with restrained anger. “You’re right Lydia, it was the ride of my life. Get your shit and go.” he was pointing to the suit cases. “Don’t keep your new boyfriend waiting.”

“Who? Oh David! He’s worth three quarters of a million. But he’s no where near as good as you are in the sack, John. Oh, here’s my last mother hen act. You got a package from your Aunt Alma. I put it over there.” She pointed to the desk near his canvases.

She opened the door, picked up her suit cases then paused. She looked back and said, “After I get married you can sell those paintings you did of me. Call it your Lydia period.” With that she was gone.

John walked over and shut the door. He decided to take a long hot shower and then go out and get some coffee. John Prescott was alone again.

John felt clean for maybe the first time ever after his shower. He couldn’t help feeling like shit though. He lost his muse, his lover, and his best art critic. Lydia was as mercenary as they come. But he could stop feeling the loss. They shared something that couldn’t be easily replaced.

John walked up to the newspaper machine by the coffee shop, deposited the coins, then pulled out the Chronicle. He took a seat at the sidewalk café. Already, his hostess was bringing him a cup of strong black coffee. He looked up and noticed the look of distain on her face. After serving him, the hostess walked away muttering something about losing a goldmine.

“So you knew before I did, huh?” he yelled out. “Damn that kind of news travels fast.”

John spent a few moments perusing the morning paper. Then he saw the advertisement. It was a show at the SFMOMA, the SF Museum of Modern Art. They were having a special showing of Pin-ups and poster girls from the 1930’s, 40’s, and 50’s. Today was the last day. Thank god Lydia left. He would have missed it.

John dug deep in his pockets to find the appropriate change. He never paid in bills, only coins he kept in a jar back in his studio. Oh yeah, the tip. He put another handful of nickels in the bill tray the hostess brought.

“Ok, let’s find ourselves another muse, another cause,” he said to no one in particular

He checked his pockets for remaining change and then walked over to Third Street and took the number #15 Muni bus downtown.

SFMOMA—later that day

John paid his admission into the art museum, in change of course. He viewed the usual galleries and displays, with a portfolio sized notebook and sketch pad, he carried with him, always looking for art opportunities and ideas. Finally, John made his way to the fourth floor. This was what he came to see, the pin-ups. A lot of history was here, and some very good art too. Armstrong, Petty, and Vargas, just among the many great pinup artists were represented here.

John walked the aisle slowly, stopping at almost every pinup. These were the originals illustrations with some preliminary sketches included. A brief history was also captioned with each one.

John entered the final section of the exhibit called Nose Art. Art from the World War II era. This really interested him because John was fascinated by how flyers could paint original designs on their planes, and many of them inspired by pinups.

He thought there must have been a lot of budding artists in the Air Corp. His Great Aunt Alma told him many times her brother was one of them. But his great uncle was an unmentionable subject growing up in his house. While John’s parents were alive he was never mentioned. Only Great Aunt Alma ever spoke of him and she was very careful when she discussed anything about her brother around John.

He was almost done when he stopped dead in his tracks in front of the last pinup. This one just held his attention. It looked familiar somehow. The model did anyway.

“This woman is drop dead beautiful.” He said to no one in particular, focusing back on the pinup. He thought if he could draw and then paint his dream girl, she might be the one. The pinup was titled: Temptation.

“Oh yeah he thought, she’s all that. Temptation.”

There was a bench right behind him. John thought he’d sit down and look at this pinup thoroughly. He wanted to know just why she was called Temptation. Just what made her Temptation?

John made notes, drew what he thought were her most interesting features, she had a lot. . “I could begin with her eyes and end with those eyes. Oh those eyes could enslave if she wanted them to.” He thought to himself.

John then walked up to take a closer look at this woman. The history about it was posted on the wall, right underneath it. John found it interesting. The model’s name was Caroline Templeton, from London. She was a cabaret dancer, met and fell in love with an American flyer in World War II. This flyer was a B-17 pilot, who somehow got her to sit and pose for him while painting her on the nose of his bomber.

The pilot‘s name was Jack Prescott. “What!” He checked the history again.

“Oh God.” As he sucked up a big gulp of air and felt his heart in his throat. “I can’t believe it. My uncle’s plane and the original painting he did, here!” John was overwhelmed. He nervously walked around and then back again. He looked up at Temptation again before reading the notes further.

John read that Captain Prescott was lost on his final mission, somewhere over Berlin. He was actually MIA, and neither he, nor his crew was ever recovered. He sold this painting to Alberto Vargas, who then made an illustration and made her famous as a pinup.

“Now that answers a lot of questions, a lot of family questions.” As he looked up at Temptation and smiled. He said to himself, “I just bet you could tempt anybody couldn’t you?”

John looked closely at a photo of his uncle and the crew of the B-17; they were posing in front of the aircraft, right underneath the likeness of Temptation. It was then he realized his uncle must have been in love with her. John drew back and wondered how one found a love as deep as that. He sat back on the bench as concentrated on her eyes. They drew him in.

He sat there for a long while, losing track of time. John didn’t know how long he was there. Minutes, hours, time made no difference to him. He just sat and examined and stared. There was something here that held his interest. He just couldn’t put his finger on it. There was something else besides the art and the family connection. Again that feeling of familiarity kept popping into his mind. Those eyes just drew him back in every time he looked at her.

He studied her hard. “Oh, she was a beauty. A beauty that transcended time.”

He said aloud to no one in particular. “She looks like that actress from all those Bob Hope and Bing Crosby movies, what’s her name? Dorothy Lamour.”

He studied her looks; maybe that’s what it was. The model was sultry, slinky and sinuous. Sure all the pinups here are. But there was something extra special about this one.

She was thin, but not too thin. The pose had her lying down as if she was just starting to crawl, seductively towards John. She wore a short and sparse grass skirt. This diva was topless and he could tell she had great tits, even if they were covered by the model’s arm and flowers in a seductive pose.

Her hair was jet black with yellow hibiscus flowers in her hair that added to her alluring look. Her eyes—well her eyes. “That’s it!” He couldn’t take his eyes off them.

Those deep set eyes and dark long eyelashes just pulled him in. They were offset by aqua green irises. Those eyes, they’re almost hypnotic. They captured his gaze and held it.

John became oblivious to everyone and everything around him. An elderly woman noticed his gaze, walked up and said, “She’s beautiful isn’t she?” John never responded.

In fact, he was starting to become something of a spectacle. The guards noticed as well. At first, they thought he was sick, and then realized that he was just another weird, freaky artist. It was the nice clothes that threw them off at first and they recognized that he’d been here before. They were going to toss him out, but he wasn’t bothering anybody.

After many hours the guards finally got him out of his stupor. Two men, one elderly the other about 20 years of age, walked up to him. The older guard said. “Hey Buddy, Hey fella,” seeing no response, they nudged him slightly on the shoulder.

“Huh, what do you want? Whoa, sorry guys. I just got a little involved here. You see I’m an artist. I sometimes take my studies a little too serious.” John was surprised and a little embarrassed.

Both guards took a knowing glance at each other, then look back at John and the older one said. “Yeah, well whatever kid. It’s time to leave. We’re closing in a few minutes and you gotta go.”

“Closing already?” John looked down at his watch it read 4:50 PM. “Jeez, how long have I been here?”

“Well we started our shift at 2:00 and you were already here.” The younger guard, speaking for the first time.

John slowly stood up. His eyes were a little bloodshot and glassy.

The older guard noticed and said, “Are you going to be all right son? Do you need help getting outside?”

The other guard then said, “Can we call someone for you?”

“No. No. I’m all right. Just let me look at her again.”

“Oh no,” the older one said grabbing his arm and then steered John down the hall. “Its closing time and this is the last day of the exhibit. Maybe, if you hurry you can buy a print in the gift shop.”

“Yeah a print. Ok, that’s it.” John shook loose of them and then tore down the hallway. He made his way to the gift shop and found the door locked. He was frustrated. They were closing up. So he banged on the glass door.

“Open up I still have five minutes!” The clerk inside just shook her head no and pointed to her watch.

“Bull!” He saw a wall clock that showed the correct time was still five minutes to closing. John pointed to it vigorously. The clerk shrugged her shoulders and let him in.

As she unlocked the door she said, “OK you’ve got four minutes.”

“That’s OK miss. I know exactly what I want. I want a print of that pinup.” He said hurriedly.

“What pinup?” she said when he didn’t amplify.

Then in a slow, but excited tone, John simply said, “Temptation.”

The clerk quickly found a print of it and rang John up. This time John found he didn’t have enough change in his pocket to pay. He had to resort to his credit card.

He raced home on the bus, happy with the knowledge that his great uncle’s artwork was now going to hanging together with his. He couldn’t get over the similarities in style and interest.

Vermont Street Apartment—Later that day

When he got home he quickly framed the print with the supplies and tools he had on hand. “But where to put it?” he thought. John finally decided it needed to be placed directly over his bed and hung it there. He took great care measuring, making sure the print sized up and was level.

John then stepped back to admire his handy work. He then remembered something, the package, the one Lydia mentioned earlier. John walked across the room to his desk. It was from his Great Aunt Alma, Jack Prescott’s sister. The connections were coming closer together.

John opened the package. In it he saw sketches from his uncle’s brief, but talented art career. There were photos of him in his Air Corps gear. Then he picked up a photo of him standing by the nose of his plane looking up affectionately at Temptation.

He must have been deeply in love with her, John thought. “I can see why.” He looked back at his first glance at the print he hung from across the room.

It emitted a strange light. John, at first thought it was sunlight reflecting off the window. He walked over, closed the shade, and then turned around to saw it made no difference. He looked around the room to see if he could find where the light source was coming from. He couldn’t find it.

“There must be a reflection coming from somewhere.” He still couldn’t find one. He was going nuts. The more he looked at Temptation, the brighter it seemed to shine.

When he walked a little closer to the print it got brighter. The eerie light, it seemed was coming from the print itself. “Oh my God, from the eyes, those aqua green eyes.” The light emanating forth the same colors as her eyes. It was like the print had an aura.

He slowly crept forward to investigate. This can’t be happening. This is unreal. The closer he moved towards it, the brighter the lights became still. Now, even brighter lights were creeping out from the sides of the print, actually from edges inside the frame. It was becoming almost blinding. A contrast developed, drowning out everything else in the room. Her eyes, her face were the only things that could be seen.

John was scared to death. He found he couldn’t run nor could he look away. There was a whisper, or so he thought. “No! No whispers. What the hell is this?” Then he heard it again.

“Jack? Jack? Listen to me Jack.” The voice said. It was familiar. Haunting almost.

John looked up at Temptation in disbelief.

“Good boy Jack, just stare at the picture and remember. Remember Jack.”

“I’m not Jack. I’m John. Oh hell, maybe Lydia was right, too many drugs.” He was shaking.

Of course you’re Jack. What’s a nickname for John?

“Ah Jack” he said with a little fear in his voice.

“That voice! That accent is English, could this really be Caroline?” He thought to himself.

“Lydia never understood you like I do. Listen to me Jack. I’ve waited a long time for you. You know you promised to bring me to San Francisco, remember? Well it took me over fifty years, but I made it. Oh love, I missed you so much. I know it wasn’t your fault. Your plane went down over Berlin that day. Your final mission remember?”

“Stop. I’m not Jack! Stop calling me that! I’m not Jack! He covered his ears to drown out her noise.

“Jack, you’re the one who always called me Temptation. Remember?”

“No! I can’t! I won’t!”

“Look into my eyes Jack. Look deeper. Jack, now just close your eyes and remember.” John reluctantly did. “Come a little closer my love. I won’t hurt you. I love you. Remember Jack?”

John started moving slowly towards the print again.

“That’s it Jack, a little closer. Let me get a good look at you. It’s been a long time.”

John thought he could actually see her talking to him. God she looked good in that grass skirt getup.

“Close your eyes and remember.”

John did so and saw a kaleidoscope of colors and images. He saw Caroline nude, gesturing him closer, images of them from the past. In her flat, making love under her canopy bed. The images were moving fast, blending in together. They kept swirling and swirling, pulling him down inside.

He could hear her whispering over and over, “Jack it’s Temptation, it’s Temptation.

Jack opened his eyes, they were vacant and empty. He looked into the eyes of his lover.

Caroline said. “Jack, remember the day you finished this painting? You called me Temptation that day, for the first time. You said my eyes were like a soft breeze and” –

“Deep as an ocean, Caroline. I remember. I really wanted to make it back to you honey. But we got hit and went down so fast. No one got out of the plane.”

“I know that love. I waited a long time for your return. Do you still want me?”

“Of course I do! I never wanted anyone else.”

“Well then you better start cleaning up around her better, dear! Remember I’m a stickler for neatness.”

“You already sound like a wife,” he chuckled.

Caroline then reached out to touch him. Jack was at the bed now, right next to the print. He was surrounded in light. As he touched the hand of the love of his life, he saw the St. Christopher medal he gave her so long ago. It was around her neck. It looked right at home there, nestled between her beautiful breasts.

As she took his hand, he also noticed she was wearing his old wedding band too. They looked up at each other misty eyed.

“I love you Caroline.”

“I love you too, Jack. I always have and always will.”

All of a sudden he felt he was being sucked up. Like in a giant vacuum cleaner.

His last words were. “I could never stand up to Temptation.”

Epilogue

The landlord was showing the studio to a couple of college girls. He complained about the previous tenant who skipped out and didn’t pay rent.

“Maybe I’ll sell these paintings and use the money to pay the back rent. “Look around girls. The previous tenant was a little untidy, but we’ll get it cleaned up for you.”

One of the girls saw the framed print on the wall. She said. “Oh look Jan! That looks like the pinup we saw at SFMOMA last week.”

Jan looked around at her friend confused. Then she saw her pointing to the print above the bed.

The landlord rolled his eye and sighed. “Are you two art students?”

When they both looked back at him and nodded affirmatively. He said. “OK, I need first and last month’s rent and a security deposit up front.”

The girls ignored him and turned back to study the print more closely.

Jan said. “It’s the same woman we saw in the pinup from the museum. But I never saw any man in any pinup before.”

The woman in the print was topless in a grass skirt and reaching back and holding a man’s hand. The man was in a World War II army uniform with aviator’s wings.

“They’re both smiling. They look happy too.” Jan said.

“Well wouldn’t you if you could get her alone in an outfit like that!”

They both laughed.

“Look they both have wedding rings on. Now that’s a switch.”

Jan looked closer and saw the print title caption. It read ‘Temptation Gets Her Man.’