Desiree waited patiently for a couple of minutes then rang again. Moments after her second attempt, a tall, slim young man finally answered the door and smiled at her quizzically.

"Good afternoon. I'm sorry, but I'm not buying anything or donating today," he stated succinctly.

"Oh, I'm not selling anything. My name is Desiree and I'm from next door," she said hurriedly while gesturing at her house.

The roof was clearly visible over the six-foot-high privet hedge dividing the properties.

"Oh ... Right, so you're the writer..."

"Yes, that's right," she replied evenly but was slightly taken aback.

"People are talking about you. The estate agent mentioned the famous writer..."

"Oh, I'm not really famous."

He smiled. "Famous and modest, a rare combination. My name's Clark Hamm." He pushed his hand out towards her, so she grasped it and returned his handshake.

The young man had a firm grip and while he shook her hand, he squeezed it for several seconds, before finally letting it go.

"You know more about me than I know about you!" she countered, hoping that Clark would volunteer some more information and maybe ask her in. He regarded her with a curious expression and seemed to be trying to make his mind up about something.

Desiree guessed that the young man was in his early thirties. The way he stood with his square shoulders pushed back and his head held high, suggested a military influence.

Clark's fair hair was long and gathered in a short bunch. He was clean shaven, well-tanned and had sparkling grey eyes beneath solid eyebrows. His nose was sharp but modest and his mouth narrow, but when he smiled. he revealed a lovely set of flashing, regular teeth.

"Desiree..." Clark's face suddenly lit up. "Sorry, we shouldn't be standing out here chatting. Come on in."

He stood aside and allowed her to walk into the entrance hall, before closing the door behind her. His house was the same design as Desiree's, with a wide entrance hall leading to four reception rooms and the kitchen.

At the front of the hall, a wide staircase, curved up to the second floor, while behind, another staircase descended to the basement. The pair of huge houses had been built at the turn of the century, when rich families had lots of servants. The large basements were used as servant's quarters, while the families lived on the three upper floors.

Clark led the way into the front reception room and offered Desiree a seat on one of the large, brown leather sofas.

"Coffee or tea?" he offered.

Black coffee without sugar, please."

While he was fetching her coffee, she gazed around the room and was enthralled by what she saw. She had observed the retro furniture being delivered but hadn't expected the cornucopia of decadent art and sculptures that literally covered every wall and shelf in the room.

The dominant feature was a photographic collection of nude women in every pose and position that could be imagined. The models in the photographs were all wearing either items of bondage, or in the case of the black and white images, black latex. Discovering he neighbour's penchant for pornographic art intrigued her creative mind.

All the photographs were beautifully composed, but the blatant display of genitalia in most of the images made her blush. Desiree had always shied away from studying porn, even though she often described, within the Pages of her books, similar images to those displayed in the pictures. In truth, she was a shy person and was inexperienced in intimate relationships.

She wondered if Clark was a professional photographer and whether he had taken the images himself. She got to her feet to examine one picture that intrigued her. The photograph was an A3 size, black and white image of a young woman wearing a tight latex corset, a black latex hood and nothing else. Her ample body was gripped by the corset, creating a rather severe hour-glass figure.

The model was posing with her hands holding her right foot high up a chrome pole, so that she was effectively doing the splits against the shiny shaft. In her open posture, her smooth white labia lips with its contrasting pink ridge-like inners, appeared to be kissing its own reflection, as it hovered close to the pole.

Clark appeared with her coffee. "Ah!" he exclaimed, setting it down on a glass table. "I see you're looking at some of my brother's earlier work." He walked over to stand beside her, in front of the silver framed photograph. "One of my favourites." He added and gave her a wicked smile.

"I... er... wondered, if you were the artist," Desiree replied hesitantly.

The young writer was embarrassed to be standing in front of a photograph of a naked woman, with a man who she had only just met. If she wasn't a writer, writing stories with erotica content then she doubted if she could have handled the situation.

Desiree gazed at the image and suddenly realized that the girl's hands and ankle were bound to the pole with clear tape that could only be seen when viewed from a certain distance. Desiree turned away from the image, to hide her embarrassment and went back to the leather sofa.

"So, Clark, do you work from home?" she asked.

He smiled at her giving the impression that he was enjoying her discomfort while viewing his collection of decadent art. She was uncomfortable among the plethora of sexual poses, but she could appreciate the skill involved in producing such high-quality images.

"Yes, my brother and I do. Photography is a small part of a club that we are establishing here. And may I say, if you ever have a spare hour or two, we would love to photograph you."

"Oh," she blushed furiously. "I wouldn't make a very good subject."

"Desiree, I meant with you fully clothed." There was a glint in his eye.

"Oh, yes, of course." Was he trying to avoid explaining their main activities in the house? "So, if photography is a small part of your business, what is the larger part?"

"Well, we offer fitness programs for couples. We take a Holistic approach to fitness and use many methods that are, we believe, revolutionary." He didn't try to elaborate, instead he gestured toward her coffee. "Desiree, drink your coffee while it's hot."

"Yes, of course." She picked up the cup. "Umm, you said couples. Would someone like myself, being single, be able to join your fitness club?"