Art Fair

It was a steamy, hot day in July. Not at all unexpected for this time of year, but still oppressively hot and humid, like a soaking wet, hot towel wrapped around your body. There was nothing to do but to hope for a breeze and keep drinking ice water to cool down. If you were lucky and there was still ice in your cup when you finished the water, you put that leftover ice on your neck and chest to try to cool yourself.

I’d felt restless at home that day, not wanting to leave the air-conditioned comfort of home, but needed to get out and away, wanting to do something “different”. I looked through the paper to see what was happening on such a hot, sticky day and found an art fair at the park. I hadn’t attended an art fair in years! My husband’s not into art so it was easy to get this time alone.

At the park, I walked along the trails surrounded by booths full of artwork. Hand blown glass, carvings from wood or stone, paintings with oil, watercolors and acrylics, even string art, which I’d done in my senior year to pass Geometry! Guess I should have saved that piece – might have been worth quite a sum!

As I walked slowly in the heat, I could smell all the different colognes everyone was wearing. Men in Polo, women in L’air du Temps. At times it was a very heady, erotic combination. But if you got too close to fragrances that clashed, it was a very painful experience! Didn’t people realize you really shouldn’t wear colognes on such a hot day? Not only does the heat continue to release the fragrance, it draws bees and mosquitoes! And the hairspray! And the make-up running from once beautiful, air-conditioned faces. Ladies! Use waterproof mascara please!

I was dressed in jeans and a pale yellow v-neck t-shirt and sneakers. I’d lost quite a bit of weight in the past year, so I was happy to show off the “new” me, still a curvy kind of girl, but not quite so round and curvy. My clothes weren’t overly revealing, just form fitting. I had on virtually no make up – just enough to put some color on my eyes, lashes and lips; my hair was pulled back in a pony tail as it’d grown out from the short-short cut I’d worn for many years. I really had no idea what my natural hair color was, but between me and my stylist, it was deep red with bold blond highlights. I usually wore it loose and fly away, but with this heat, I had to keep it off my neck. I was carrying a cup of ice water with me, not wanting to drink too fast, but really wanting to get to that ice so that I could use it to cool my hot skin. This was going to be one of those “two shower days” – I felt the sweat dripping down my neck onto my chest then between my breasts, my clothing not able to soak it all up.

Then I saw the painting. It was to the left at a booth with other paintings and this one intrigued me. The blues, the browns. Most people wouldn’t put blue and brown together but this was wonderful; the shading, the texture. I had to get a closer look so I went over to the booth, then I saw him and stopped in my tracks.

He was tall, probably 6’, lean but well built, dark hair and eyes and was talking with some of the others looking at the paintings. I assumed he was the artist and listened to what he was telling the other on-lookers about his work. Acrylic on a sand base applied to a wood panel. He likes to work in abstracts, although it didn’t look abstract to me, and paints in layers. I didn’t hear much more than that because I was too busy watching him move, watching how he held himself tall while talking to these people, watching his mouth move, watching the sweat bead on his face. I had this sudden urge to reach out, wipe the sweat off his brow then follow the trail of sweat from his neck, down his chest to who knows where. He looked over at me, smiled then turned back to finish the conversation with the potential buyers. I wondered how long I’d been staring at him, but that didn’t stop me from continuing – I just couldn’t take my eyes off of him.

He sold a painting to the people he was talking with and I was glad it wasn’t the one I’d been looking at. When they finished, he turned to me and asked if there was anything he could do for me. He had no idea what a loaded question that was! Oh, the things he could do for me – my mind reeled. In a matter of no more than two seconds, I ran through several scenarios of what he could do for me. The thoughts ranged from softly touching my face and kissing me deeply, to throwing me down on the ground and fucking me senseless.

I must have been further into my thoughts than I realized because he reached out and touched my arm, asking again if he could do anything for me. I rejoined reality and told him I liked the blue and brown painting. I liked the colors that were used, the texture it had and the simplicity of it all. I especially liked the two “U” shapes in the center; they reminded me of two lovers engulfed in one another. We chatted about the painting and how it was done, but the entire time I was only half listening, I was still too enthralled by him and his movements, the sultry look he may not have even realized he had.

I finally finished the water in my cup, absent mindedly reached in and grabbed a piece of ice, rubbed it on my neck, the water dripped down onto my chest, cooling me ever so slightly. I noticed the look on his face and explained that I was really hot. With a sly smile and laugh, he agreed. I had to laugh too as I realized what I’d said and how it’d been taken.

He introduced himself as Darin, the artist. I returned the introduction as Sherri, the hot one. We both laughed and talked about the heat for just a minute. A couple came to the booth and began asking questions about one of the other paintings. Darin asked if I could wait for just a minute while he talked with these folks and I told him I’d be back in a few – had to get more ice and water to cool off, especially while talking to him. He chuckled again as I walked away.

I found more water and ice, at a premium price, of course. There were some shady places under a tree not too far from his booth and I sat to watch him work. I saw him glance my way, waved and he returned the wave as another group of people came to talk with him. I have no idea how long I watched him as I sat, but I needed more water and ice very soon. Was it because of the heat of the day or the heat of what I was feeling while I thought about this guy?

I watched as he put up a sign “back in 30 minutes”. He walked over to me and I enjoyed watching him walk. A lot of tall men tend to walk with big strides as if they’re in a huge hurry to be somewhere. Not Darin, he walked slowly, gracefully, almost a saunter and he moved so well. This was the first time I’d seen him from “head to toe” and he was, indeed, captivating.

He leaned down next to me and asked if I was hungry (it was noontime, after all). I looked up to him, held his gaze (God, his eyes were beautiful) said I was, but not for food. His face showed some surprise, but not as much as I’d thought there would be. Was he interested in me as I was in him? He asked what it was I was hungry for and I decided to go ahead and risk it – you, I told him. He told me what time the art fair closed down then asked if I’d come to his booth about five minutes before closing, and we’d see what we were hungry for then.

I passed the remainder of the afternoon looking at the other artwork and purchased some hand blown glass. I’ve always loved the intricacy of blown glass and really enjoy watching how it’s done.

The time for going back to his booth arrived and I trekked over and spotted him talking with a few people just before the fair was to close. I also noticed the blue and brown painting was no longer on display. I was heartbroken that it’d been sold, I had hoped to purchase it myself.

He spotted me as I walked towards the booth and waved. I returned the wave and found myself, again, lost in thoughts of what I’d like to do to him, to see if I could make him sweat even more than the heat. The last customers left the booth as I approached. I stood at the front of the booth and was taken by surprise when he leaned over the table and kissed me on the cheek. Although he was probably more surprised when I grabbed his shirt, pulled him back to me and kissed him on the mouth.

He told me of a restaurant within walking distance which sounded good to me, and in an air-conditioned place, I’d certainly cool off some. Not much, because I’d be with him, but some. I know we talked over dinner, which was pretty good as promised, but I don’t remember much of what we talked about. I was too involved in my own thoughts of him – what it would be like to kiss him again, to touch his bare skin, to lie next to him and feel the heat radiating from him, to drag my hair across his chest, to lick the inside of his thighs…..The waiter came by and asked if we were ready for dessert and I laughed as I told the waiter that no, we were going to be each others’ dessert. We paid the tab and left.

We walked back to the park to my car and I drove him to his car. Before he got out, I leaned over and kissed him, full on the lips. His lips were so incredibly soft, his tongue gentle as it touched my lip, wanting to explore my mouth. I responded, accepted him in, gently probing his mouth as we continued our kiss. I felt the heat he stirred in me flush my chest, my face. I reached out to touch his cheek, and felt he was as hot as me. I grabbed the back of his neck, pulled him closer to me, kissed him more urgently, felt the tingle of excitement in my pussy, the wetness spilling over onto my lace panties.

He went to his car and I followed him home. We were greeted by his black labs and had a great time playing with the dogs for a few moments. He told me to see what I could find for the CD player, then relax while he walked the dogs.

I knew what I wanted to listen to but he had none of it. I went to my purse and pulled out the CD I’d burned at home to listen to in the car. This was my “sensual” CD – incredibly heady music from Dave Koz, Brian Culbertson, Peter White, David Lanz and others. This was music, to me, that sounded like sex should feel. Hard to explain, easy to understand once it’s heard.

Kicked back on the sofa, eyes closed, I listened to the music, wrapped up in the sound and feel of it. I heard the door open and the dogs come into the house. He told me he’d be right back, he wanted to put the dogs in their room for the night. Not a problem, I thought, I’ll be here.

I felt him sit next to me, his hand touching my thigh, but not moving. I opened my eyes to look at him, suddenly seeing him shy and unsure of what to do next. I hesitated only a moment, then stood up, turned and straddled him as he sat on the couch, sitting in his lap.

I leaned in and gently kissed him. Softly on the lips, then on his cheek, his forehead, under his ear, down his neck and to the hollow in his throat. He was salty from the day in the heat and his taste was intoxicating to me. I kissed the other side of his neck, up to his ear, gently sucked on his earlobe for only a moment, then kissed his cheek and his lips. Those lips! Soft, moist, hot, waiting for me to do whatever I wanted to them.

I kissed him once again, my tongue touching his lip lightly, my teeth nipping at his lower lip. I felt his body respond to me, his cock growing hard under me. I kissed him deeply as I unbuttoned the shirt he had on, feeling the hot skin under the light cotton of his shirt. I leaned down to kiss his chest each time I revealed more of it as I unbuttoned the shirt. I moved off of him and kneeled on the floor, pulled his shirt out of his pants and unbuttoned the last two buttons. I moved his shirt away from his chest, my hands softly rubbed him. His breathing deepened, his legs closed around me, enveloping me in their warmth. Slowly, I pulled at his belt, unbuckling it, moving it away from the opening of his pants. I pulled at the button, flicked it open easily then pulled the zipper down. I saw the silky material of his underwear straining from his hard cock. I pulled at his pants, he raised up to allow me to remove them, to put them at his ankles.

As he sat on the sofa in his underwear and shirt, I looked at him and saw him looking at me, a hot, sultry look, begging me not to stop whatever it was I might do to him next. I lightly touched the smooth material that imprisoned his cock and felt him respond further, his breathing heavier, his cock harder. I tugged at the waistband of his underwear, pulling it down to join his pants at his ankles.

I trailed my fingernails gently up the inside of his legs from his ankles to just short of the top of the inside of his thigh – I liked to tease. His cock was very hard, standing up tall and proud, his hands to his side, his eyes fixed on me as I reached to take his cock into my hand, dipping down to lick his balls and the underside of his cock. Again, his taste salty from the heat of the day but oh so erotic and exciting. I took the head of his cock into my mouth, my right hand massaging the shaft, my left lightly tickling his balls. I alternated between having just the head of his cock in my mouth and taking in as much as I could, sucking lightly as I brought him out of my mouth and into my wet hand to continue the sensation. I listened closely to the signals he was giving by his breathing, by his muscle contractions, and knew that he was coming closer and closer to his orgasm. When I felt it was oh so close, I’d shift what I was doing to back him down a bit in intensity. From the noises I heard, I knew I was frustrating him but it didn’t matter. At least not to me.

After getting him close several times, I let go of him, his cock still hard, his eyes still locked on me. I stood, kicked off my shoes, pulled my t-shirt over my head, reached into my pocket, palming something in there, stripped off my jeans and stood before him in my bra and panties (matching set of course). I resumed my straddle position as before but with his cock in front of me instead of under me. I leaned in and kissed him on the chest, lightly biting his nipples, his breathing heavier, kissed his neck, licking the salty sweat from him. He reached behind me searching for the clasp to my lacey bra, only to find there wasn’t one. I giggled softly and leaned back up, showing the hook in the front! I placed his hands on my breasts, the nipples hard from all the excitement. He pinched them through the lace, making them harder and causing me to moan. He unclipped the bra, the cups falling to the side, my breasts heavy and hot now on his bare chest as I leaned into him so that he could remove the bra.

He pushed me back after he tossed my bra onto the floor, grasped my breasts with his hands, his fingers pinched and twisted my nipples firmly. He somehow knew not to do it too hard, just hard enough to get to that pain/pleasure line, but not crossing it. He took my breast into his mouth, gently biting the nipple, while he continued to squeeze the other with his fingers. I felt myself getting wetter and wetter, the ache of needing him inside of me now overwhelmed me.

I leaned back, losing contact with his mouth. I looked down and saw his cock still so very hard and waiting. I stood quickly to remove my lace panties, then kneeled to again take his cock into my mouth, bringing him in and out, moving faster and faster. As his muscles contracted, I moved up, ripped open the condom package I’d palmed earlier, placed it on his cock then straddled him once again. This time though, with him inside of me, not under or in front of me.

It felt as though it was a long time before I was completely seated on him, the tightness of the fit so exciting to me. Once I was fully impaled, I began to rock back and forth as he rocked with me. I had my arms around his neck, pulled him to me to kiss him deeply, passionately as we continued to rock. I could feel his arms tightening around me, he legs beginning to tighten as well and knew he was close – this time, I didn’t want to tease him. I leaned back, held onto his neck with one hand while I placed the other between us to rub my swollen clit as he pounded into me, using my hips to guide me where he needed. Within moments he was coming, slamming into me as hard as he could which gave me all the extra stimulation I needed to fly over the orgasm cliff myself. My legs clamped on him as I came, hugging him tightly until it was over.

We didn’t move for several minutes but did find we were still breathing, so that was a Good Thing! After a few more minutes, I moved off of him, collapsing onto the couch and asked what was for dessert. We both laughed and kissed again. As we kissed, I felt him getting hard again. I had to laugh to myself as we started up again, that all I’d really wanted to do today was find some art to take home. But I think I liked the artistry of the artist even more – and could hardly wait to find out what he might have in store for me!