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From: "Paris Waterman" <the_panda@hotmail.com>
Subject: NEW: The Artist  MF
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The Artist


By; Paris Waterman


© Paris Waterman 1998

 

Her heart was hammering, banging away against her chest. She unlocked 
the car and quickly got inside and slammed the door. She started the car 
and turned the AC on high and stuck her face in one of the vents.

She unbuttoned the top four buttons of her dress, pulled it open, and 
directed another vent to her chest. "Jesus," she thought, as she tried 
to put the memory of the feel of his inner thigh into perspective.

She'd been caught off guard, but he'd simply grabbed her and they were 
off around the room, smiling, meeting, and pretending . . .. If, if only 
he'd continued to hold her hand as they walked from group to group. But 
he hadn't done that. Instead, he'd release her hand and touch her back 
during one introduction, put his arm around her for another, take her 
hand for yet another, each time bringing her in touch with another part 
of his anatomy, the hardness of his chest here, the strong inner muscle 
of his thigh there, and each time the renewed contact with her warmed 
flesh vividly re-created a sense of what he must be like. Or more 
accurately, it created a heightened curiosity, a desire to know . .. or 
maybe . . . simply . . . a desire.

It certainly wasn't the first time a man had played her; it was more a 
part of her chemistry, and partly her age. She was rattled at finding 
herself responding to his sophisticated sexuality. She took a toilette 
packet from her purse, opened it, and wiped her sweating forehead and 
across the tops of her breasts. She put the towlette in the trash and, 
leaving her dress unbuttoned, put the car in gear, only to shift back to 
park and turn the engine off. He was crouching next to her window.

"May I join you in the car? It looks so invitingly cool in there."

Despairingly, she knew she'd come to the line. "Oh. . .. Sure . . .. Get 
in," she said weakly, crossing the imaginary line - all the while 
deploring her actions. She started the car again.

He opened the passenger door, slid into the bucket seat beside her and 
closed the door. "Uummmm, that's a relief." His voice so calm and 
confident. "He's lying," she thought, "but . . .. Oh, look at him." He 
continued talking in that smooth husky manner. "You have no idea how 
glad I am to have caught up to you before you left. I had no way of 
contacting you." He reached out and touched her face, one hand lightly 
on each cheek. He leaned forward and kissed her twice lightly on the 
forehead. She didn't resist. He continued kissing her, little butterfly 
nips here, others quick as a flash, still others soft and lingering, 
moving steadily downward. He brushed her eyelashes, her reflexes caused 
her to blink; then she consciously closed her eyes.

Almost as a reward, he kissed each one in turn. His lips lightly skimmed 
her nose, searching for her mouth, stopping enroute to suck gently on 
her cheek; to her chin, where for the first time she felt his tongue, 
feather light in a flickering lick. "Oh, my God," she thought, as she 
detected her inner core begin to throb. "I can't control this."

Finally, his lips touched hers. Just touching, but lingering, as though 
time had stopped. Then her mouth opened, and tongue touched tongue. 
Slowly, softly, the velvet tip of his tongue began to circle hers. 
Indicating her surrender, she laved her tongue back and forth across 
his. She uttered a subdued sigh, and revealed her increasing desire to 
him.

Abruptly severing the kiss, he looked into her eyes as they opened, only 
to teasingly say, "Ah, you liked that, didn't you. Well let's continue, 
shall we?" He pulled her head close once again and found her mouth open, 
eagerly awaiting his. He sucked upon her lower lip, moving eventually to 
the upper lip. Then the two tongues were dueling frantically. This 
parrying continued for almost ten minutes. It was she who broke the 
kiss, pretending to gasp for air, actually trying to make a decision she 
failed to realize was already made.

Relentlessly, his tongue probed the inner recesses of her open neckline. 
He could feel her pulse racing, as he tenderly kissed along and down her 
neck.

"His hands - where are his hands? The octopus," she thought, emerging 
from her sensual haziness. "God help me, my dress is wide open. Aahhh, I 
did it myself - what a slut I am," she postulated, as if reciting a 
familiar lament to herself.

His hands passed smoothly, quietly, and quite undisturbed down the face 
of her breasts, stopping only to open the front clasp of her turquoise 
bra, and releasing its captive globes. "Oh, those hands," she thought - 
as they quickly moved to circle and cup her generous breasts.

She felt his hardness for the first time, pressing against her thigh. 
She formed a mental picture; "He's got a monster. It's huge! I can't 
take that thing . . .. What's that he's doing? How the hell did he know 
I . . .?" Suddenly she cried out, "Oh, yeesss! Yes, do that, oh, God 
.... Yes! ! Yes! !" As he licked around the outer edge of her aureoles.

She reveled in the sensation as he continued dragging his tongue in 
gentle circles around the circumference of her aureoles. With his other 
hand he gently caressed the fullness of her opposite breast. Never 
touching her nipples, now hardened and engorged to their fullest.

Her breathing became more difficult. She found herself taking deeper 
breaths, her chest heaving; realizing suddenly that she couldn't help 
herself. "Touch them you miserable bastard," she screamed inwardly, 
hating herself for not forcing his mouth there. "All you mother fuckers 
want tit, don't you? Mouth me! Mouth me! "Ohhhh!" It was the softest of 
moans.

Pinioned between conflicting emotions, and unconsciously grunting, she 
reached out to clasp him in her hand, at the same time seeking his lips 
with hers.

She sucked his tongue tenderly back into her mouth, only to find his 
response more aggressive than before. His tongue suddenly lashed at 
hers, moving rapidly in and around her teeth, licking her gums one 
second, sucking her tongue into his mouth only to nip it gently with his 
teeth the next. This produced a reaction she hadn't expected, at least 
not this soon as she felt first her loins, and then her entire being 
thrill to his combativeness. She responded by squeezing the swollen 
member lodged in his slacks, and began to masturbate him - stopping for 
a moment, only to grope for the zipper and free "the monster."

He watches her as she stares at it. "Play with it if you like," he 
whispers, not wanting to break her concentration at this delicate point. 
He needn't have been concerned. Her mind was already made up. Slowly, 
she rubbed her hand back and forth over the silken skin on the head of 
his impressive erection. He shifted position to give her wandering 
fingers better access. Then she lowered her head and calmly took as much 
of him as she could into her mouth. Only the bulbous head disappeared. 
He moaned in pleasure, and continued with his methodical seduction, 
noting with satisfaction how erect and hard her nipples were.

His mouth hovers over one, his lips purse, and he softly blows on it as 
if playing a flute. A favorable reaction is detected as first she 
trembles and then sucks more of his member into her mouth, this time 
moving her tongue around and about the "monster."

"It's my monster," she thought. "Oh, Christ it's big. But it tastes so 
good and I feel sooo good." She couldn't help but reach down with her 
other hand to touch herself. She was drenched. "This bastard knows what 
he's doing. He's an artist," she thought as she shifted into a more 
comfortable position. "My God, he's only begun on me . . . "Oohhhh, 
shit!" Flashes of white heat raced though her system from her inner 
core.

Once again taking the "monster" into her mouth, she gloried in her 
encounter, and simultaneously cursed her luck as she realized she was in 
a parked car on a public thoroughfare. "Anyone can see in. I'm like a 
horny high school bitch in heat," she moaned to herself. Then, as he 
closed upon her nipple for the first time, she sighed, and analyzing her 
feelings, concluded she was very close to coming. "How can that be?"

Confused, she reflected: "It's so soon."

Through a veil of sexual haze she felt his hand begin to explore the 
mystery of her lower torso. Down. Down. Down. Across the crest of the 
hip, to the front of the hipbones - all the while his lips drawing 
tenderly on her nipple - sending sensual shock waves throughout her 
nervous system.

Abandoning herself to lust, she began lavishing kiss upon kiss on the 
"monster" all the while gently cupping the soft, huge sacs hanging 
below. His hand crept lower raising her dress; she sighs, and lifts her 
hips to accommodate him in finding the soft downy hair above her mons. 
His fingers trace downward languorously, in tempo with the continued 
soft sucking on her nipple, into an area covered with a dew slightly 
thicker than sweat.

He tastes the dew, and with careful deliberation, coats the finger again 
bringing it to her lips as an offering. She removes his member from her 
mouth and leans towards his finger, tongue extended. She tastes the 
bitter vanilla bean flavor of her center instantly. The taste of his 
finger is secondary, but she continues sucking on it until he withdraws 
it, a smile on his face. Her breath now knows no regular pattern. His 
hands are tracing hearts on the insides of her thighs from the underside 
of her knee to the crease where outer labia meet leg. She feels his 
mouth nipping tiny kisses along her abdomen, and still holding him 
firmly in her hand, she rolls over to her back, opening her legs to 
allow him access to nirvana. Her aroma is everywhere, intoxicating him, 
demanding that he taste and drink of her.

Her first climax hits the moment she feels his lips upon her. It has 
been building since she reached the car. He inserts a finger into her, 
moving it in small circles. The first climax continues and produces a 
flow of translucent fluid from her as she arches her back and moans in 
ecstasy. With the contact of his tongue upon her clitoris, the waves of 
a second climax break over her psyche. "I'm lost . . . oh my God, he 
owns me," she thought before dropping into an erotic vagueness - out of 
control - lost to sensual bliss.

An eternity later, her orgasms gradually recede and blissfully come to 
an end. Regaining her senses, she tells herself she can gain control if 
she proceeds carefully. And then, she's straddling his lap, her calves 
lined up against his thighs and her weight resting on her knees, as she 
placed him against her center and sank down upon the "monster." Rising 
up and down, her wetness permits the "monster" to fill her to the core 
by the third stroke.

Each upward stroke creates a sucking sound. Leaning forward - her hair 
cascading down and across her face to his shoulders - she wonders 
briefly about tomorrow's bruises from knocking and bumping into the 
dashboard and armrests. She tosses her head, moving the hair from over 
her eyes. He pulls hard on her nipples, stretching them to twice their 
normal length. The pain, the thrill, the joyous feeling from this action 
fills her being and her motions shift into a frenzied pace. Up and down, 
she rides him! Unable to sustain a satisfying consistency, she changes 
to a rocking circular motion. Now a quick variation to side to side 
movements! "Oh God! Ohhh, God," she spits out through froth laden lips. 
She exhausts her diversity, thrusting and heaving wildly, in a back and 
forth stirring frenzy.

His fuse has burned its entire length and he erupts in a tremendous 
explosion. As she senses his sperm heat her cervix, a major orgasm jolts 
her. For a split second she endures an out of body experience and looks 
down at the two enjoined bodies below.

Then it's over.

She lifts herself off him, and bending slightly, kisses the limpid 
"monster." He reaches for her and kisses her lips tenderly. "That was 
better then I ever dreamed it could be," he says. "Yes," she answers, 
"like spontaneous combustion."

In a shallow attempt to disguise her fear of rejection, she manages to 
avoid stammering and asks, "Will I see you again?"

"Will dinner tomorrow work for you?" he responds quietly, secretly 
relieved that he had evaded the inner turmoil of having to remain calm 
in the face of rejection.

"Yes. Around eight would be great," she replies, smiling for the first 
time since getting in the car. Silently, they repair their clothing. 
Then, as he'd begun, he took her face in both hands and kissed her. A 
long, gentle kiss that would not only end that night, but also serve as 
a prelude to many more nights of enchantment.

"I knew I'd have her from the moment I held her hand," he told himself 
as he walked to his car.

"My plan to seduce him worked like a charm," she told herself as she 
drove away. 


If you liked this, come visit my web page at:
http://members.xoom.com/Pandas_Pen/index.html



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