Art for Anything

"Chris!"

I looked up from the hors d'oeuvres table, the din of glasses and conversations creating a little cocoon around me.

"Jim! Dora! How great you could make it!"

"Wouldn't have missed

this

," Jim grabbed me into a bear hug. "Jerry and the gang should have been here by now - have you seen anyone else?"

I shook my head, smiling at Dora and kissing her on the cheek. "Been here most of the afternoon. It's gotten a little crazy though. They could be here...somewhere..." I waved vaguely at the jostling crowd of studio hoppers. Once a month the galleries show their new artists, hosted wine, a few hors d'oeuvres and depending on the weather (and who's showing what) a crowd. Cheri's opening had been well advertised. In spite of her protests about a lack of contacts in the city, or her perceived reputation, she had talent. The fans will excuse an artist her foibles if she has talent.

"Shit, man," Jim said over a meatball, looking at the walls. "What the fuck is this?"

Dora just rolled her eyes, plucked a few things from the table and looked at me kind of funny. "They're almost pornographic, don't you think?"

I laughed. "Almost? Yeah. I'd say definitely. But only if you let your eyes go out of focus. I mean, they're just abstracts, right?"

We were standing near the final version of my

ejaculation

, as Cheri and I had come to call it. It was barely recognizable as a cock, and the stream of droplets almost looked like separate circles splattered on the canvas. From across the room there was no doubt what it looked like, but in front of it, it became completely abstract.

Dora looked at me and at the picture, shaking her head. Jim stood back and studied it, trying to see what Dora saw.

"Hey bud," I grabbed his shoulder. "You're going to hurt yourself looking at it that way. Let me get you started on something a little easier."

On our way to the "easy one," we passed by the one of Cheri masturbating. She had modified it, rendering the air gap between her finger and her clit as foreground, her body, whitespace. When Dora saw it she gasped, putting her hand to her mouth and then taking a sip of wine. "You've got to be fucking kidding me," she said quietly.

"You've got a great eye, Dora. Not too many people see it that way."

"What? What way?" Jim was focusing on the crescent moon that was the air gap, still trying to make sense of the imagery.

"C'mon. You'll get it with this one." There was a crowd around one of the larger canvases. It showed a figure, bent into an "L" shape, an enormous cock pushing down, or maybe it was a dildo. It clearly extended from the figure's crotch, but there wasn't a clue as to the figure's sex. Its ass cheeks looked like they had been recently spanked, like in the prior 10 micro-seconds - flattened slightly, distended - but no implement gave that impression. Just the shape of the cheeks.

It wasn't romantic. It wasn't violent. It looked like a still life. The figure's relationship with the ground plane created geometric shapes that Cheri had enhanced. Still whitespace background, but competing with the human figure. The shapes flattened everything to the canvas, approaching abstract but still very figurative. I had learned a lot in the past several weeks.

"Holllleeee shiiitttt," Jim drew out the curse. "Now that I understand. Look at the schlong on that guy!"

Dora groaned and stole a glance at me again, mouthing the word, 'You?'

I smiled and shook my head. I was happy to be able to tell the truth. "But I know the model," I said aloud.

"Holy crap, dude. When do we meet this chick?"

I led them over to a small cluster of critics and fans, bringing a fresh glass of champagne to Cheri.

"Two new adoring fans, sweet." She knew my silent 'cunt' was out of respect for the context, but she blushed nonetheless. I have become quite attached to that blush. She took the wine and smiled a warm greeting to the newcomers, thanking them for coming.

"It's...ummm...provocative?" Dora said, diplomatically.

Cheri's smile widened. "Yes. Some are more than others. Have you had a chance to see them all?" At Dora's response, she continued. "Come on, then. Let's start at the beginning." Cheri threaded her arm into Dora's and the whole cluster moved through the crowd to the first piece near the door.

* - * - * - *

"I think that went pretty well, don't you?"

There were only a handful of people left: the gallery owner, Cheri's agent, a friend... of somebody's, me and Cheri. She looked wiped out, staring at me with glazed eyes, nodding slightly.

"Monique," I asked. "How'd it go?"

"Except for a couple, everything's been purchased. Even the replacements. Best response I've seen in years. Amazing response. I feel like we could have priced them higher..."

I leaned over and kissed Cheri on the top of the head. "You ready to go back to your place?"

"I can't...at least...I don't think I can...Monique, Theresa...do you need help cleaning up?"

"Hell no, girl. We've got it. Take off. You did your part. Great night. Great work! There may be some commissions out of this." Monique gave her a knowing look. Her agent knew her stuff. If she said there were commissions, then she must have had a few good conversations. She walked over and whispered for a few heartbeats in Cheri's ear. I watched her eyes get bigger and then she broke into a smile.

"I'd have to ask my talent, Monique. It's not out of the question." Turning to me, she wrapped her arms around my neck. "I'm bushed." I leaned in and gave her a kiss, the smell of lavender wafting up. I pulled back, raising my eyebrows and she looked all innocent. "What?"

I shook my head and whispered, "I was looking forward to getting a little bushed myself. You need it soft or hard tonight?"

She shook her head and shivered a little. "Hard." She said. "I need it really hard."

"So what was Monique whispering about?" I looked over to make sure she hadn't fallen asleep. We were only a few blocks from the studio.

She grunted, giggling a little. "She had a couple of folks who wanted to see me making the paintings. 'They'll pay to watch,' Monique said. Can you fuckin' believe it? Who are those people?"

"But it turned you on, didn't it? It did. I saw your reaction, and I smelled it. I can smell it now. You want somebody to watch you get fucked, or whipped, or taking a cock down your throat. Say it. You know it's true." It was our form of foreplay. Not exactly the same every time, but along those lines. I could smell her arousal building.

"No," she said quietly. Her outside persona, even in the privacy of the car, couldn't admit it. But we both knew it was true. We'd talked about it incessantly for the past couple of weeks. How her art was a form of voyeurism; how she was making it abstract to make it presentable. But all those trappings only made the raw animal urges more apparent. The opening had been on fire. I saw at least three couples making out as if they were alone in their bedroom. Not to say they were all that obvious; the crowd was so thick they may as well have been (in their bedroom) for all anyone could see. Still, it was a hot show.

I laughed. "Yeah. Right. Here's what's going to happen. Sometime soon. Monique is going to make you an offer, an offer so outlandishly outrageous you're going to practically hang up. A couple will commission you to do a piece, but they have to be there from start to finish. You'll set the terms and they'll comply."

She moaned, closing her eyes and pressing her thighs together. She shook her head slightly, trying to get the image cleared away.

"You'll greet them. Naked. You'll inform them they will remain off to the side and not make a sound. Observe. Any interruption and they'll forfeit their money. You'll shock them. Perhaps you'll give yourself an enema, making them watch, along with the clicking camera. What do you think? Sound about right so far?"

She was squirming, making mewling sounds and trying to ignore me. I reached over and unbuttoned her top button. She tried to swat my hand away, but I got the second one undone, and then the third.

"Naked. When I enter the garage, you'll be naked. Say it."

"Nooooo," she whimpered. "I can't! No! What if the neighbors come home?" She looked over at me in terror, but I could tell she was considering it. She wanted to do it. She needed to.

"'Hard,' you said. It's going to be very very hard tonight." I glanced down at my slacks, seeing her gaze follow mine. "We're almost home, Cheri. Tell me what you're going to do."

"Fuck." She breathed out. "Fuck. I can't believe this." Whispering. "I'm going to strip naked and walk into my apartment without any clothes on." She shook her head and continued unbuttoning her top, pulling it out of her slacks.

I approached the driveway and stopped on the street, just outside the glow of a streetlight, waiting. She shimmied out of her pants, taking off her shoes and putting them back on again. "I can't walk in the garage barefoot," she said softly. I nodded, waiting. Moments later she handed me her pile of clothes and sat, her face a mixture of fear, arousal and puzzlement. "Why am I doing this?" She said quietly, turning to me.

I shrugged, moving the car into the garage and parked. "Because it's an immense turn-on for you. Because you need to let go of your inhibitions when you're not at home. Because you want me to dominate you. All sorts of reasons, no doubt. None of those probably."

I got out and waited while she quickly exited the car, running to the lobby door to avoid being seen from the street. I took my time, folding her clothes, locking the car, finding the keys.

"Chris!" Hissing again. "Come on! This isn't fair!!"

I ambled over, unlocked the door and let her race to the elevator. We still had to cross over in the main lobby to the residence elevators. I smiled, waiting. "So, what will you say if Mr.Johnson is getting his mail late on a Friday night..."

"Don't...stop. Just stop it. I'm freaking out here." She was hugging her arms across her breasts, exposing that wonderful brown bush. Freaking out maybe, but the smell of lavender and roses was a beautiful thing.

Sadly, an uneventful crossing to the main elevators, which happened to be available and in we swept, her image reflected in the stainless steel. I leaned in, wrapped my free arm around her shoulder blades and pulled her into a kiss.

"Hard," I said as we arrived at her floor.

Now that we were 'safe,' she melted into her interior persona, relaxing her shoulders and walking as if she owned the place. "I need to pee."

"I'll be there when you get out." Just a touch of menace. Hard. She shivered again and ran to the bedroom.

The cabling was almost always set up, at least, I made sure to get it neatly out of the way so we wouldn't lose time threading it. I was undressed and very hard by the time she finished washing her hands and exited the bathroom. She walked over and knelt on the bed, taking the head harness and tightening it, as I clamped the leather cuffs on her wrists.

"What are we going to do tonight, sweet cunt?" I gently laid her down on her stomach, draping her arms in a 'T.'

"You're going to fuck me. Hard. As hard as you can." She spread her legs, letting me put the ankle cuffs on.

"Why? Why hard tonight?" I wrapped the shoulder belts under each arm, tightening the cables to pull her close to the headboard. I tightened the wrist cables and her arms pulled back, straight against her body, her hands at her waist. Like this, she was strung like a bow, except her legs were still resting on the covers. Moments later, she was pulled taut, just on the covers, her head facing forward, her body open and waiting.

"Why, spice cunt? Why hard tonight?" I got up on the bed in front of her, kneeling down so my cock was at her mouth. "Before I shove this deep into your throat, tell me why you deserve to be fucked, hard."

"Because I'm a fraud. I'm a fake. I'm a poseur. I don't do art. That isn't ART! That's just bullshit! I'm a BULLSHITTER!"

I had heard it before, and it scared me the first time, but as soon as I shoved my dick into her, I knew she would quiet down. I held her head and made her look up at me, her eyes straining. The head brace had her locked facing forward. "We're going to do things a little differently tonight, fuck-toy."

She tried to shake her head, not understanding. I got off the bed, opened her toy drawer and pulled out her biggest dildo. Not as big as the cucumber, I had to shake my head in disbelief about that monster, but big enough. She couldn't see what I had, her eyes couldn't track that far over. I laid it between her legs and repositioned myself with my cock at her mouth.

"Kiss it, and tell me what I'm going to do." I held it just a little too far from her lips. She strained forward, barely touching her lips to my head.

"You're going to fuck my throat with that beautiful cock. As hard as you can, until you shoot your sweet sweet crème into me."

"But you won't cum, my little sweet ass. You won't cum that way, will you."

She shook her head slightly, trying to see my eyes. "No," she said quietly. Waiting. Not certain what I had in mind.

"But you said you wanted it hard, so hard it will be." I leaned over, pushing my cock between her lips and shoved it slowly and continuously across her tongue, to the top of her throat and waited until she got her breath under control. In this position, her throat was stretched wide open, just the way she loved it, knowing my cock would be riding it hard and roughshod.

I continued leaning over, my hands on the bed, my cock deep inside her throat, and bent down onto my elbows. Reaching under her legs, I picked up the dildo with one hand, using my other to start to play with her cunt lips. My head was just above her beautiful ass and I bent down to kiss her cheeks, pushing them apart to find her hole.

So far it was gentle. Not hard. But that was going to change. She was breathing hard around my dick, her mouth wide, trying to get any amount of air into her lungs. I split open her cunt and slowly pushed the dildo into her, forcing her to moan and protest.

"Here we go," I said calmly. "My cock is connected to this dildo. Out of your throat, deep into your cunt. Out of your cunt, deep into your throat. Now." I pushed with my knees and shoved my cock deep into her, pulling out with my hands. As she screamed around me, I pulled out and pushed in, hard forcing the breath out of her. "And again," I warned, shoving the other direction. I could actually keep this up for some time. I'd fucked her silly a few hours before the opening, so I wasn't going to be close, in spite of how fucking amazing this was.

"FUGGHHH MEEEHARD!!"

I smiled, grimly and kept moving like a machine, the two rods lubricated and moving into her tubes.

"GAWEDDDDD YETHHHH GAWDDDYETHHH!"

She was creaming all over the black latex, her liquid a translucent viscous coating. She was going over the top, and the thought of it pushed me harder. I planted my dick deep into her throat and held it there, listening to her pant and scream and try to move. Her lips were practically on my balls, and I imagined she could feel my sperm gathering steam and moving up my shaft. One heartbeat later and I jetted deep into her throat, shoving the dildo as far up into her as it could go. She arched her back and screamed around me, her muscles tightening into a single wired bundle as she went over the top a second time.

I pulled out slowly, letting her catch her breath, but not letting her out of the cabling. "I can see you doing that while someone watches, right?" I looked at the cameras, clicking away silently, capturing everything we'd done.

"nooo," she could barely say it. "nooooway."

"Hmmm," I said, philosophically. "I think anything's possible..."