Art for Anything

"Hey." I was eating lunch around the corner from my office. Unlikely anybody I worked with would be here in spite of its location. The food was too "ethnic" for most of my associates.

"Hi." She dragged it out with a small purr. I could imagine her standing nude in the middle of her apartment, between painting and vacuuming. My cock twitched.

"This an okay time to talk?"

A moment's hesitation. "Yeah. Sure! Everything okay?" Concern. Was I backing out?

"Everything's fucking fantastic. I'm imagining you standing naked in the middle of your apartment, the vacuum just next to you..."

She interrupted me by laughing. "Nice," she giggled. "But not close. I'm at the grocery store," and then in a whisper, "and perfectly dressed..."

"Too bad. I'll keep my image for now. But your reality definitely would be easier on my cock."

Another giggle and a shhhshh.

"Anyway, I've looked at my calendar. Tomorrow late afternoon I can make it, if that works for you."

A pause. "Hold on...I've got an appointment until 4. Any time after 4:15, 4:30. I'll be home."

"Perfect. I'll see you at 5."

"Yummm. I'll be ready ..You know, I've already got three good candidates from just the past couple of sessions. I've decided to do a symmetrical mirroring thing..."

She said a bunch more, but though I had an appreciation for art, I'd never had a lot of theory. She sounded like a critic, rattling off names and notions. I started laughing.

"You know," I interrupted her. "All of that sounded like English to me, but I couldn't tell you a single sentence you just said."

She stopped and laughed.

"All I know is you seem to have a strong direction in mind, and

that

is the important thing. " I paused. "I've been noodling on how I might help."

She inhaled. "Help?" She breathed. "You've been amazing. I couldn't have asked for anything more. You're my muse!"

"About that," I interrupted. "Let's talk about 'anything.'"

She stopped, even her breathing was inaudible.

"Fuck." She whispered, her public persona embarrassed again. I liked the dichotomy. She whispered, hesitating, "What do you mean? Shit." She was quietly hissing into the phone. "I can't talk about that here."

My cock twitched again. I had been thinking about all the ways in which she would make good on her promise. "Ahh...yeah. No. It's fuck-toy column, time. As I recall, that isn't your department. I have some ideas I'd like you to photograph."

She breathed heavily.

"I think it's time to start putting some deposits in that column tomorrow night, don't you?"

More breathing. "Maybe," she whispered.

"Hmmm...you said you can't separate your art from business, right?"

Nothing.

"You want to start doing 'anything,' tomorrow night. Is that what I'm hearing?" I was getting interested in pushing this particular envelope. It was

her

art. She was the director, producer and talent. Except for me and my particular contributions. I had been musing the whole weekend and an idea had begun to emerge like one of her charcoal images; just a hint here or there, but I was getting a sense of something. Something I needed to make happen.

Anything.

"Maybe," she said quietly.

"I think I'm getting it. I think you are ready to do anything to make your show a success...Right?"

"Yes," quietly like she had her hand over the phone. I could see her in the grocery store, terrified someone could hear her conversation even though it was completely innocent from her side. I smiled, a little wickedly.

Anything.

"So, here's what I'm thinking would be cool to do tomorrow when I get there at 5PM." I spoke quietly and slowly, painting my fantasy of what I wanted to happen. It wasn't terribly original, but I was pretty hard by the time I had finished offering her the details. "Where are you standing right now?"

"What?" The transition had caught her off guard. "Produce. I've been standing in the produce section listening to this. Everyone must think I'm insane!" Again a whisper.

"Can anyone hear me? Am I on speaker phone?" I laughed, taking a bite from my lunch.

"No. Idiot. Of course not!" She was annoyed at herself as much as at my laughing at her.

"Tell me exactly what you're going to do for tomorrow night."

"Shit." She barely said it. "No, Chris. I can't. Not here. I'll call you when I get back to my place." A little bit of a whine. "Please."

"Anything?"

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." She cursed exhaling softly. Over the next several minutes she repeated my instructions, redoing them when I corrected her. I imagined her standing in front of the carrots or cucumbers as if she was talking to them.

"Is this making you very very wet? Is there a distinct aroma of lavender near you?" I took a sip of water, feeling my hard on pressing uncomfortably against my slacks. Blue balls for me tonight if I didn't take care of it back at the office.

"Yes, goddamn it."

"Tell me exactly."

"Fuck you. Fuck you Chris." Venomous but only a whisper. "I'm soaking wet. My panties are soaking wet from leaking thinking about what you're asking me to do tomorrow night. There. Is that 'anything?'"

I smiled." Almost."

"I've got to get out of here, Chris. What?" I could see her looking around as if on a stage.

A thought had struck me as I imagined where she was standing. "Are the cucumbers nearby?"

A pause and an exhale. "Yes." A single word, but already I could tell she was connecting the dots.

"Go find the largest diameter and longest cucumber you can. Tell me when you have it in your hands."

Cursing and breathing as she moved to a different case. She set the phone into her cart and a few moments later picked it up. "Okay. I've got it. I know where you're heading with this, Chris. Just let me go home. Please."

"Tell me

exactly

what we're going to do with that tomorrow night." I sat back, finished with my meal, signaling the server.

Between cursing and calling me nasty names, she described a delicious scene involving her and the cucumber. Delicious, but different from my fantasy.

"That was nice," I commended her, laughing. "Not what's going to happen, by the way, at least tomorrow night. But I definitely want to see you do that another time. Promise?"

"I'm hanging up, Chris. You've had your fun. I think I've proven I'm open to 'anything.' I'll see you tomorrow." And she hung up.

Getting out of the restaurant was a challenge. I had deflated by the time I walked back to my building, but I knew I'd be in bad shape if I didn't take care of myself. I stopped in the lobby bathroom and jacked off before going upstairs. No way I was going to sit half the day imagining the scene she described with the cucumber, or the ones she was going to do, without getting some relief. No longer aroused, I was able to finish the day without thinking about Tuesday night more than a few times every five minutes.

* - * - * - *

At 2pm the next day I called her.

"Hey."

"Hi!" Bright, clear, excited. She must be at her studio.

"You home?"

"Yep. What's up?"

"About tonight."

A pause. Was I cancelling. Had she fucked up by hanging up? "What?" Neutral but cautious.

"When I get there. I want you sitting, facing the elevator, your legs spread open. Naked of course. And I want to walk in seeing you fucking yourself with that cucumber. Leave your door open from the moment you arrive home. Got it?"

"Fuck Chris!" No whispering now. In the safety of her home her private persona was out in force. "And you're the one worried about the neighborhood! Anyone could press my floor and see me! No. No fucking way."

She sounded pretty firm. I realized we needed a different dynamic. My insistence and her denial would only go so far. "You sound pretty convincing. The problem is, you said 'anything,' remember? So how do we know what that really means? I told you to be careful."

"Chris. Be serious. I'm happy to spread open, buck naked facing the elevator shoving that monster up my cunt for your arrival, but I won't leave the door open the moment I arrive home. When you ring up, I'll open it and be in any position you ask." Her tone was definite. Even as she promised the most graphic details, she didn't waver.

"Okay. Fair enough. For now. But we're going to need to figure out what 'anything' really means. You have a safeword?"

Quiet. "Yes."

Interesting. "And?"

"Flare-dodge."

"That doesn't sound like a real word." I was laughing.

She giggled along with me, the mood shifting. "It isn't. It's a combo of two photographic terms I'd never use together."

"Let's start with that, then. If I ask you to do 'anything' and you say 'flare-dodge,' I'll back off. Otherwise, I like to hear you beg." And I hung up. I figured what's good for the goose...

Now time dragged on. I finished my afternoon meetings, cleaned out my inbox, posted a few blog entries and shut everything down. It was 4:34 and my cock was letting me know it was excited about the evening's proceedings. All I could imagine was her beautiful ass, stretched tight, her mouth clamped around...I had to stop before I couldn't walk to my car.

"Howdy." I was five minutes late.

"Come on up." Quiet, expectant and excited?

The inner door was unlocked but closed. When I opened it, she was sitting 10 feet away, her legs spread as far apart as I could imagine (further than I would have managed), and both hands were pushing on the largest cucumber I'd ever seen, into her split open beaver.

She looked up, a grimace on her face, her eyes moist, staring first at mine and then down at my crotch. She turned back to her labors. "I...fuck! I've only got a couple of inches in. Fuck this is huge!" She kept pushing, turning it slowly one way and then the other, her lips spreading out across it, turning with the green wrinkled skin. "FUCK!" It moved in visibly at least an inch and she stopped, gasping for air. "I don't know how much further I can push it in, Chris."

I knelt down next to her, taking her face in my hands and kissing her eyes, her nose and then holding her lips against mine. She kept working the cucumber even as we kissed, her breathing labored. I pulled away, staring at her split wide open, her hands guiding it in.

"Let me help," I offered, moving my fingers to her labia. Gently stretching her skin at the base of her lips, I tried to give her lips more slack. It seemed to work - the vegetable moved in another inch and then it seemed to just keep moving. Five, six, seven inches in, there was only enough left for her to hold onto with one hand.

"FUCK. I've never felt this full in my life. Fuck.Fuck." She inhaled shallowly. "It's gotta be up against my cervix. I can't push it in any further."

I moved my fingers onto her labia, stroking them lightly. They were pale, stretched across the green monster. Her clit was exposed, pushed out from its hood by the invader. "I'm going to taste it," I said, not giving her time to think. Diving down, I licked my way up the shaft, dancing my tongue around her stretched lips ending up lightly tapping on her clit. She moaned until the last part, when she swatted my head and cried out.

"DON'T! That fucking hurts!"

I looked up, smiling and turned back, placing my lips around the skin at the base of her clit not touching it. I sucked in, creating a vacuum.

"OHHHHHH GOODDDDDD. FUCKK FUCKK CHRIS. YES! Fuck Fuck FUCK!"

I reached my fingers down and guided her hand to start pulling it out and pushing it back in, knowing her juices would lubricate it. She moaned with each movement, first out, out, out until her lips closed and her clit retreated, and then, with a little assistance, back in, deep, deeper, firmly seating it even deeper than at first. In. Out. Slowly. My mouth never leaving her skin, the vacuum a constant stimulation.

We kept at it for at least a minute. Maybe five. It's so hard to tell when you're lost in it. But I knew this was just the opening act and didn't want her to peak too soon. She was getting very close, that was obvious, as she tried to move the beast in and out of her as fast as she could.

I pulled away with a little lick on her clit, forcing a yelp from her. "Okay. Okay. That's enough. Hold on." I held it inside her on the in-stroke, staring at her face, flushed with arousal, her eyes brimming, her mouth open.

"Everything ready?"

She nodded, pointing with her eyes.

I looked around and realized she'd set up the camera and equipment exactly as we had discussed, with a few additions to capture her vegetable masturbation. There was a camera within an arm's distance I hadn't noticed, it's LED blinking slowly indicating it was still taking pictures.

"Nice." I unfolded from the floor and stood up, peeling off my clothes. My cock sprung up, getting harder anticipating the next few minutes. I offered her my hand. "You ready for 'anything?'"

She kept one hand on the cucumber, impaling herself with it as she brought her legs together, tucked her feet under her and rose to standing. Lithe, her body moved like a cat. Her breasts were glistening with small beads of sweat. She smelled fantastic. I rubbed my hand down her back to the top of her ass cheeks, letting it linger there, feeling the skin, her texture changing from fine hairs to completely smooth.

She let go of my hand, pulling my head into a deep kiss, her tongue penetrating my lips. She tongue fucked me for several breaths and pulled away. "Thank you," she whispered, looking down at the cucumber and at my hard on. "I'm ready."

The setup was against a long wall perpendicular to the elevator, several steps away.

"Let's go." I held her hand as she waddled the short distance to the equipment, her other hand keeping the cucumber in place. It occurred to me it would fall out as soon as I took her hand away. "Do you have any panties handy?" I looked around as she glanced over to the couch. "Hold on."

Returning with a pair of sheer thongs, I slipped them over her feet, pulling them up as high as the cucumber would let me. They barely stretched over the top of her cheeks, leaving a large air gap between her legs. It was obscene: her pubic hair surrounding the monster cucumber held in place, mostly, by a delicate pair of lingerie. I stepped back to make sure the cameras caught her degradation in full color.

I took her hands and secured them to the cuffs she had attached to two cables, fed through eye hooks in the floor. Pulling on them from their source, she was forced to bend over at the waist, stretching her underwear further. She groaned as the cucumber pushed against her insides.

I gently pushed her legs apart, slowly, not wanting the cucumber to pop out. I hadn't imagined the cucumber when we went over the scene in the grocery store; it was an extra, albeit a wonderful addition. Still, I was trying to figure out how long I could keep it and still go where I was hoping. I kept slowly spreading her legs, making a wide triangle with the floor, her back parallel and her hands pulled to the sides by the cuffs. She was low enough (and limber enough) to rest her hands on the floor supporting her weight. I tightened all the cables. She could only move her head up and down.

"Ready?"

"Uhh hnhh," she gasped, the cucumber still holding firm.

"So," I said, going over what we had discussed. "This is real, right?"

"Yeah." She breathed heavily.

"Real

and

art. Right?"

"Ummm hmmm." Grunted.

"You need this to be real for the art to be real, right?"

"Yes. Please. God. Yes. Just. Do. It." She was breathing heavily and I saw a small stain starting to grow where the cucumber was pressed against her underwear. I wiped her juices off if it and rubbed it against her upper lip. She moaned, closing her eyes.

"How many?"

She breathed in and then out, getting control of her voice. "20."

I didn't think she was going to last 20. And then she would suffer a worse fate. Or maybe she wanted to suffer more. She's the artist.

"20. Okay. After each, you do what?"

She inhaled deeply. "I thank you, tell you the number and ask for another."

"And if by some miracle you don't faint or cum before the 20

th

you get to take my cock down your throat, right?"

"Umm hmmm. Yes. Chris. That's right. If I..." she paused to breathe, " don't climax before you're finished I get to feel your hot cum down my throat."

"But, as I figure will be likely, given how close you are already, you

do

climax, what happens then?"

She swallowed, closing her eyes. "You fuck me, hard, in my ass. Hard. Until you cum deep inside me."

"When did you last take a shit?" I reached over and stroked her ass over the underwear and under it, my finger feeling her puckered hole.

"I did an enema the moment I came home," she gasped. "I'm as clean as I'll ever be...OHHH" I pushed my finger into her asshole, feeling the lubrication she had thoughtfully put in.

"Good thinking," I commended her, slipping my finger in deep enough to feel the cucumber through the separating muscle. I pulled it out, smelling a slightly medicinal and floral aroma, mixed with the smell of shit. I wiped

that

on her upper lip. Maybe it would let her last through a few more.

"Let's get this party started, eh?" I moved to the sound system and turned on the song she had queued up and picked up the table tennis paddle resting near the equipment. As the bars to "Anything Goes" began playing I admired her handiwork. From the time we'd discussed it until now, she had been a very busy beaver. Maybe she already owned the thing, but I doubted it. It was a standard issue ping-pong paddle, with ½ inch holes drilled throughout. It made a very satisfying swooshing sound as I tried it.

"Now, Cheri," I said soothingly and with a little concern. "I've never done this with you before, so you'll need to tell me if I'm being too gentle or too rough. Okay? Let's say the first few are for calibration, yeah?"

She nodded.

"And, please, I need you to look at me, eyes open, the entire time. This is what

you

want, right?" I was standing next to her facing her ass, a little off to the side so I could also see her face. She turned to look at me, her eyes glazed and open.

"Okay." She whispered.

I swooshed the paddle down onto her right cheek, enjoying a very pleasant thwacking sound. Her body shook and she cried out.

"AHHH! Thank you, Chris! One. That was perfect. Another, please!" She kept her eyes on my erection, licking her lips.

A second thwack! on her left cheek. Her ass was so tight it hardly jiggled at all.

"Yes! Thank you, CHRIS! OHHH. Two! Another please!"

After four more swats, I had covered both sides, top and bottom of her cheeks. They were glowing red where the paddle had connected, small white dots amidst the pinkish skin. She was crying, her head hanging down, unable to look at me. I knelt to inspect her panties: they were slick, the cucumber pulling out from the shaking. I pushed it in slowly until it stopped, pulling the panties up tight again.

"How are you doing?" I backed up a little to lift her head and look at her.

She nodded. Sniffling. "I'm fine..." she whimpered.

I held her head up to my cock, indicating she should kiss it. She opened her lips and took in the head, swirling her tongue around it. I pulled her off with a pop.

"14 more to go. You going to make it?"

She nodded, inhaling.

The next three were on both cheeks, starting at the top, then straight on and then on their underside, where it was tenderest. I couldn't tell what was wetter: her panties or the floor under her nose and mouth from snot, tears and drool.

I adjusted the cucumber again, and gently moved my finger onto her clit.

"NOOOOO! GOD NOOOO. FUCK FUCK FUCK. OH FUCK. STOP. THAT'S NOT FAIR!" She shook her head and tried to move, but she was held fast by the cabling.