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From: taria29b@aol.com (Taria29b)
Subject: Art Appreciation by Taria Part 3 #3/3

___See #1 Warnings____

 Mark gulped, swallowing hard; I was really getting to him now.  "Uh, OK,"
he said to the hovering waiter.  "Why don't we just...um...get the check."
 "That's a good idea," I murmured, my foot beneath the table returning to
its exploration of my husband's thighs.  "I think maybe we should go home
now.  It's getting late."  Mark's eyes bulged--that wasn't all that
bulged, either, since my toes were massaging his crotch--and after
straightening himself carefully he got up from his chair and we left.  As
he reached out to open the door, I snuck up behind him and caressed his
derriere once again.  Again he jumped, and I let out a quietly devilish
laugh as he stepped to the curb to hail a cab.

     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
afetr 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"

But TARIA and MARK Will Be Back... 

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