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From: taria29c@aol.com (Taria29c)
Subject: RP Ancient Taria: Art Appreciation Part Three (#3/3)
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(Continued from #2/3)

As soon as we got into the back of the cab Mark attacked me, pausing only
long enough to give the driver our address.  I let him have his way with
me for a little while--a process I thoroughly enjoyed--but before too long
I called a halt to the proceedings and pulled away, a little mussed. 
"Mark," I hissed, "the driver!"  "Let him get his own girl," he responded,
unsuccessfully reaching for my breasts.  "He's *watchinnnnngggg*," I
protested, giving Mark a little shove, and indeed the cabbie was falshing
glances at us through the rear-view mirror, a broad grin on his face. 
Mark sighed and settled for squeezing over next to me so we were huddled
together in the back seat.  The annoyed expression on his face revealed
his frustration at his wife's anti-exhibitionism.  He was wrong; I really
could've cared less about the driver.  I just wanted to keep Mark at a
peak level of anticipation and desire.  I looked at my reflected image in
the side window and smiled, knowing that I was succeeding.

When we eventually did get into the house Mark made as if he was going to
jump on me and wrestle me to the ground on the spot.  But I headed that
off at the pass too.  "Honestly, Sweetie, I just feel too disgusting to do
anything just yet.  I haven't bathed in days, and I bet you haven't
either."  Mark was looking at me as if I were a little green Martian who
just landed on the planet in front of him.  "Whaaaaat?" he expostulated,
sputtering that he had just showered, and what the hell--  I stepped close
to him and put a finger across his lips.  "Please, honey.  Just a little
while longer, I promise.  You go in and shower first, nice and
squeaky-clean, inside and out."  He looked puzzled.  "Inside and out,
that's right.  And then I'll go and take a bath..."  He looked apoplectic;
whole months have gone by with me in the bathtub.  "...a *short* bath, and
then I promise you'll get what you deserve."  Mark was melting, but he
manfully tried to stand his ground.  "Remember," I hushed him, "you *did*
promise me whatever I wanted on Thursday, and it's Thursday now..."  He
had the good grace to look a little shamefaced.  I gave him a light smack
on the butt.  "Off with you, then...hop in the shower.  Spit-spot!"

My husband looked confused--he hadn't expected Mary Poppins after all that
foreplay,
and he was worn out after all my teasing him.  But he dutifully entered
the bathroom and started his showering process, sending reproachful looks
my way until he finally shut the bathroom door. I knew it would be the
shortest shower on record, so I lost no time in running to the bedroom,
stripping, jumping into a bathrobe, and grabbing the biggest towel I could
find.  Just as he was exiting the bathroom I bundled a few vital items
into my towel, concealing them within the folds. I brushed past Mark as he
was entering the bedroom, a bundle in my arms and an innocent smile on my
face.  He was naked and still wet, his cock at half-mast as he stood there
dripping.  I saluted it with my free hand and tenderly stroked his chin
for a second, saying "I'll just be a little while."  As I neared the
bathroom door I reached out and spanked him smartly on his rear
end--SMACK--jumped into the bathroom, and locked the door behind me.

I hadn't been kidding.  I did bathe quickly, but thoroughly, washing my
body and all of my orifices with soapy, slippery hands.  Although I had
been trying hard not to show it, I was as worked up as Mark and maybe
more, since I knew what was coming and he didn't.  After muttering a quick
"I really hope this works" I got myself together, dressed, and covered up
with Mark's oversized terrycloth bathrobe.  Quivering slightly I unlocked
the bathroom door, pulled it open, and made my way to the bedroom.

When I got there, everything was perfect, better than I had hoped.  During
the day Mark had neatened up the bedroom and made the beds, which beckoned
to me to muss them up.  The lights were dimmed to a decidedly romantic
level, and fresh flowers--the white roses he had sent me when we were
first dating--adorned the room.  Somehow my husband had even found the
time to light some candles while I had been bathing, and their strategic
placement around the room added to the evening's romance.  The object of
my affections was resting on the bed, propped up on one arm like the night
before.  But this time he was on top of the covers, and I breathed a
little faster as I gazed at his nakedness, the body I knew so well. 

I approached him and took his hands in mine, raising him up to kiss me
deeply as we stood beside our bed.  I held nothing back; I gave him the
soul-kiss I had been yearning to share with him all evening, the deep
searching comingling of our tongues, our lips, and our passion that I had
missed for months.  We stood that way for a long while, our mouths bound
to each other in a deep, unhurried embrace that made up for all the
separations we had endured, all of the long, lonely nights we both had
hated so much.  When the kiss finally broke our eyes remained locked
together, mine misty and welling up a little in the passion of the moment.
 "I love you," he said, simply and sincerely.  I could not speak, but my
eyes spoke volumes. 

"So," he said, breaking the spell, "what shall we do now, hmmmmm?"  He
waggled his eyebrows in impish glee, and I grinned back at him savagely. 
"Well," I retorted, "that depends." "On what?" he snapped, the impishness
giving way to outright deviltry.  I took a deep breath. "On how far you
want to go...and how much you trust me."  After a long night of surprises,
Mark was clearly taken aback by this final challenge, which must represent
the climactic shock of the evening.  He narrowed his eyes and gave me a
sharp, searching look.  I looked right back, promising much and pleading
for him to take this chance.  He smiled, enjoying the way I unsuccessfully
tried to hold my anticipation and excitement in check.  "Well..." he
drawled.  "I *did* promise you anything you wanted..."

I pushed a little to sit him back on the bed.  "I have a little...present
for you," I said, and spread my arms wide in front of me.  "All you have
to do is unwrap it."  He looked at me quizzically, a half-smile on his
face, and reached out for the knotted bathrobe belt around my waist.  As
he loosed the knot I shrugged back with my shoulders and dropped the heavy
terry robe to the floor behind me.  My husband stared.  I stood before him
in a pale green demi-bra I had bought the day before at a specialty
lingerie shop, one which fitted me perfectly, lifting my breasts up and
out, my nipples clearly visible through the thin material.  Around my
waist was a matching garter belt that was clipped to thigh-high stockings,
a touch designed to appeal to my husband's ideal of beautiful, intimate
femininity.  And where my panties should have been was the cock I had
purchased so long ago, gleaming slightly after the soapy scrubbing I had
given it in the tub, wisps of my dark pubic hair escaping from behind the
black leather patch that held it in place.

Mark's eyes widened in disbelief, and I imagined that he had turned a
shade paler in the dim light.  I spoke to him caressingly, soothingly in
the sexiest contralto I could muster up.  "I love you so much," I said in
a low whisper, "and I love your entire body so much.  I want to love you,
to make love to you everywhere, every way, to do things together that we
never imagined."  I was running out of steam and genuinely worried now
that I had gone too far.  "But...if you don't want to..."
 
His gaze shot up, away from the cock jutting out of my pelvis, and locked
with mine.  I saw heat there, and hunger, and Mark rose to stand before
me, crushing my body to his, the springy latex of the cock I wore pressed
up against the sudden rock-hardness of his own erect member. I tilted my
face upwards and searched out his lips with my own, and then we were
kissing again, not the deep soft passion we had shared before but a hungry
savage assault of lips and tongues and teeth that startled both of us by
its fury.  I broke the kiss first and looked sharply at him for signs of
any hesitation or discomfort; there were none.  I grinned at him, letting
the full force of my rising excitement show through.

"Lie down, Mark," I said, "on your front."  He crawled onto the bed and
did so gingerly, carefully positioning his erection as he lay down facing
the foot of the bed, his legs on our pillows.  Once he was down I stuck a
pillow under his head to raise it a little, and then sat down on top of
him, my butt resting on the small of his back.  I then commenced a long
back rub, beginning with the firm circular rubs he likes so much and then
tapering off to a more feathery touch.  My rubs turned into caresses, and
I heard him groan softly, deep within his pillow.  I smiled, and wiggled
back a little further until I was sitting up on his legs, just beneath his
buttocks.  My caresses moved up and down his muscular back, down his arms,
across his broad width, and then down the sides of his waist.  Softly at
first, I rubbed the back of my hands past his waist to the top of his
crevice, and then across the width of his ass.  He moaned again, and I
scootched down a little further.

Using both hands, one on each cheek, I began to massage his buttocks, my
rubbing getting firmer.  Waiting for a reaction I spread his cheeks apart,
noticing as his muscles clenched almost involuntarily.  I had never played
with my husband's ass sufficiently, I thought with a smile, realizing with
a shock that no one probably ever had.  I rubbed some more and then snaked
a hand around underneath, moving between his legs and under to the front. 
Instantly his reactions became more pronounced, and his hips lifted off
the bed as my hands hugged his balls, hefting them slightly, rubbing all
over them and beneath them, putting firm pressure on the area between his
testicles and his anus, massaging his prostate.  My hand moved upwards and
found the shaft of his cock and encircled it, and with firm pressure I
held it tightly.  I pulled up and down, emulating the masturbatory strokes
I had seen him employ the day before.  He moaned loudly and spread his
legs wider to give me greater access.
 
By now Mark was almost on his knees, his head still ensconced in the
pillow I had given him, his body now mimicking the rear-entry position I
had lain in on that bed so often.  I continued to stroke his cock,
occasionally letting go of his shaft to run my open palm downward over his
balls again to knead them and caress them, causing Mark to groan further
out of the pleasure he was obviously experiencing.  As he rose to his
knees I moved around until I was sitting directly behind him, my hand
between his legs and on his cock.  Without breaking my rhythm I leaned
forward and peered at his anus, at the small, dark opening that seemed so
tightly shut.  Hoping that Mark had heeded my request for a thorough
internal washing I let go of his cock, spread his asscheeks apart, and
began to run my tongue down his crack, to the tip of the entrance.  As 
Mark squirmed a bit I ran my tongue around its puckered surface, poking in
a little with the tip. As I tongued him I returned my hand to his cock and
was rewarded with a violent jerk, as it stood up stiffer than I had
thought possible in response to my touch.

Mark was pushing his ass back against me now, swaying a little as I licked
at his ass and pumped his cock, his head now raised and tilted back, his
eyes closed.  I stopped what I was doing and moved my mouth close to his
ear.  I whispered, "I love you and I want to fuck you, Darling.  I want to
fuck you and enter you and fill you the way you do to me..." "Yesssss..."
he hissed, his consciousness swirling in a haze of anal pleasure I never
expected from him.  I turned to my nightstand and found the tube of K-Y
Jelly I kept there, pleased at the discovery that there was still some
left.  I squeezed some onto my finger and applied it to his entrance,
massaging it in to the area.  I added a more generous dollop and saturated
the area, rubbing around the rim of his hole and then slipping a finger
inside, causing his hips to buck momentarily. I made little circles
inside, making sure that he was well-lubricated, and then glopped a larger
amount onto the cock I wore, rubbing it around the head and underneath,
and then onto the shaft.

Mark spread his legs a little wider, opening himself fully to me.  "I love
you so much," I murmured, reassuring him with my words and my tone that I
only wanted to give him pleasure. Moving very deliberately I kneeled
behind my husband, who was positioned with his ass in the air and his head
in his pillow, reminding myself of me lying there and of Kathy, who had
lain in that very position a month before, waiting for me to enter her
with my cock.  Using my hand I placed the cock's tip at his entrance and
moved it around the opening to ensure that there was enough lubrication to
ease its entry into Mark (there was--I must've used half a tube of KY). 
Resting one hand on Mark's back I moved closer and began to push the cock
into him, using my hand at first and not my hips.

Mark gasped as the cock pushed into his ass, and I pushed further until
the flared crown of the latex cock was inside.  Remembering my doctor's
band-aid removal techniques from my childhood I kept pushing, determined
to get it over with all at once.  Mark gasped again as the cock plunged
deeper into his virgin territory (though maybe not--how did I know what
had been in there when he was alone today?), and I rolled my hips forward
until I had pushed it all the way within him, my pelvis up against his
backside.  He was on his hands and knees again, having raised himself a
little to a better angle, and I was overcome with a sense of strangeness,
of altered states.  How many times had I fucked Mark when he was behind
me, pressing back against him as he pushed his cock deeper and deeper
inside my body?  Here we were with roles reversed in a way I had never
imagined.

I pulled my hips back slightly and the cock moved with me, pulling back
out of Mark's ass most of the way.  I pushed back inwards; Mark gasped
once again, and then emitted a low moan; I pulled back; I thrust forward;
Mark moaned again.  Slowly and gradually I began to fuck Mark with the
cock I wore, in and out of his ass in a deliberate but steady rhythm. 
Mark began to moan in earnest now, his anal passage becoming accustomed to
the length and width of the cock.  The stimulation of my fucking motions
was getting to him, and his hips began to move in rhythm with the thrusts
I made.  With one hand he grabbed hold of the bed's footboard, to steady
himself.  With the other he began to pump his cock, his hand picking up
speed rapidly. 

I stopped moving and rested my hands on his waist, just above his hips,
the cock buried in him to the hilt.  I spoke to him slowly, with urgency:
"No, Mark...slowly...let's make this last." Mark's hand slowed its
pumping, and I resumed the rhythm of my thrusting moving the cock smoothly
forward and back, in and out of his ass.  I spoke again, expressing the
excitement this was causing for me.  "I'm fucking you, Mark.  My cock is
moving in and out of you, in (I pushed forward a little harder) and out (I
pulled back)...fucking you like you fuck me...do you want me to *fuck*
you?  Do you like it when your wife *fucks* you?"  "Yes," he moaned, "fuck
me...yessss..."

We were both as far into this as we could be, and although I wasn't the
one being penetrated I was getting more and more excited, the outside of
my vaginal area being stimulated by the rubbing of the harness I wore.  I
pushed the cock deep into my husband again and kept it there, pushing my
pelvis firmly up against his ass so that the harness pushed back against
me.  I began to move up and down, masturbating myself with the leather
patch over my pussy as the cock's movement inside my husband's ass
stimulated him.  He grunted in a little pain as the cock drove deep inside
him, but he was getting close as his hand frantically pumped away at his
cock.  I grabbed his hips harder with my hands, pulling him back against
me as I rubbed myself up against him, and he felt me fucking him and
holding him as I fucked him and my thighs were pressed against the back of
his thighs as we rocked together and he groaned and shouted "Oh yes fuck
me oh I love you fuck me fuckme" and I felt him jerk as he started
spurting and I was burning and rubbing and I was cumming at the sound of
his voice and I fucked him and came and came and came and came--

I came so hard my arms and legs were twitching afterwards as I subsided. 
Mark was hanging against the footboard, exhausted and limp, his hand and
belly and knees damp with his ejaculate.  Wary of hurting more than I had
to I put my hand around the base of the latex cock and began to withdraw
it slowly, slowly, ever so slowly.  It slid out smoothly, still lubricated
even after our furious fucking, and with a final careful tug it emerged
from Mark's ass, none the worse for wear, and I leaned back.  I fetched
some tissues and wiped the lubricant around Mark's anus, discovering as I
did so a drop of blood; I must have cut him at some point.  Worried, I
pulled Mark back to me and apologized for hurting him, saying I was sorry
for not taking it easier, asking if he was all right.
 
My husband smiled at me, his eyes still half-closed, and caressed my chin
with his hand. "That may have been the best orgasm I ever had," he said
dreamily, "and I bet it was the noisiest, that's for sure."  I laughed,
blowing out my breath with a little whoosh.  "The last thing I ever wanted
to do was hurt you," I said.  "This wasn't some kind of S & M thing where
I raped you or anything..."  He shushed me with a finger on my lips and
said "I know.  It was that picture, wasn't it?  The two blonde kids in
that art catalogue?  Isn't that what gave you the idea?"  Mutely, I
nodded.  "I liked that picture too.  I didn't think much of a lot of the
other ones, especially the one with the lady and the horse..." I giggled,
remembering Kathy's reaction to that picture.  He added, "But your
picture..." "Christiaan and Rose," I said.  "Yes, Christiaan and Rose. 
They looked like they really loved each other.  And this was a way
they....made love to each other."

"Yes," I breathed, and I brought my face up close to my husband's.  "And
we did, too."  I leaned forward and reached for his nighttable, snaring
the Andres catalogue and yanking it out from under the pile of clothes
where he had hidden it.  "I saw you looking at it yesterday morning," I
said, forcing the words out over my hesitation.  "I saw you...pleasure
yourself while you looked at the picture, with the cock I bought."  He
froze up a little beside me.  "You were so...beautiful," I went on.  "So
excited, so aroused...I love it when I can see you like that.  And I love
it when I can help bring that out of you and give you that much pleasure. 
I love *you*."

He held me tightly against him, and we stayed that way for a while, both
of us gazing at nothing.  And then both of us looked at each other, and
then down at my pelvis, where the latex penis still hung from the straps
around my waist and hips.  I looked at it fondly.  Imagine...so much
pleasure given to so many people by this one hunk of rubber and leather. 
I smiled contentedly and looked at Mark.

"Hmmm," he murmured, speculatively.  "Chicks with Dicks?"  "WHAT?!?" I
said, glaring at him.  He still had that faraway look on his face.  "Oh,
you know, "Chicks with Dicks.  Like in those porno movies.  You know,
"Big-Breasted Babes.  Video Virgins.  Anal Annies.  Chicks with Dicks. 
Like that."  He went on, oblivious to the fact that my glare was growing
stonier and stonier.  "And your *point* is what...?" I queried, and edge
to my voice.  "Oh, nothing..." he trailed off meekly, looking up at the
glint in my eyes.

"I see," I said.  "So I'm a titillating liitle porn queen freak show to
you, am I?"  He chuckled, and I attacked him again.  "And where do you
know so much about Adult Videos, anyway?  We've never rented any."  He
reddened noticeably, and I stared at him.  "Well," he said, still
red-faced.  "I never said you knew *all* of my secrets."  "I'll say," I
answered.  Which ones did you like best?!?  Chicks with Dicks?  Ohh--I
know.  I bet it was Chicks with Chicks! Wasn't it?!?  Wasn't it??!"  I
poked him in the ribs with my elbow.  "You men...you really Are all
perverts!"

He gave me a leering grin.  "Takes one to know one honey, especially after
what you put me through today.  Besides, what's wrong with having lesbian
fantasies.  Haven't you ever...?" Now I was starting to blush myself, my
neck prickling as I reddened at the roots.  "You know...the softness of
another woman's body (my cheeks were reddening faster)...that intimate
knowledge of a woman's pleasure (I was flaming now)...that chance to see
how much fun it can be to pleasure another woman (I had to shut my eyes, I
couldn't look at him).  Say!  Look at you!!!!  Who is it?  Who's your
fantasy girl??"

I was silent as a tomb, which only got him going further.  "I know who it
is!!  I bet it's...no...probably not someone from work...hmm... OH!!!!"  I
couldn't bear this.  "KATHY! That's who!!!"  I was going to die.  That's
it.  The bed was going to swallow me up and I was going to die.  I had to
save face somehow, so I lifted my chin and said defiantly, "you don't know
all of my secrets, either!"

Mark was laughing at me.  After a moment, I was laughing with him.  But as
the chuckles died away we looked at each other, deep in thought.  "So you
say there's more going on in that head of yours than we've ever tried
before?" he said.  "You don't deny it?"  "Well," I said, "you don't
either."  Mark ran two fingers down the curve of my left breast and
pinched the nipple between two fingers, over my flimsy bra.  "Sounds like
a challenge to me," he said.  "Is that so?" I said, facetiously.

We looked at each other, both of us hatching plans within our evil little
minds.  Then Mark laughed, and grabbed my waist.  "Take that thing off,"
he ordered.  "It's served its purpose tonight, and the night is still
young!"  "Yes, Master," I said, meekly, and began to wriggle out of the
straps in eager anticipation of the lovemaking to come. 

Even as I melted into his embrace, I did not forget about the plans I
began to form that night.  As it turned out, neither did my husband.

But that is another story, for another time.

______________________________________________________

THE END of "ART APPRECIATION"

For more stories, check out Slowhand Luke's website:
http://www.superior.net/~poopsie

or M!KE HUNT's: http://members.aol.com/mrm1ke

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