Lovers In Red

You know I love Chagall, so when I ask you to go with me to the Museum of Modern Art, you say you will, though I know you're tired and have other things you'd really rather do.

We're there for awhile, I'm wandering around, taking in all of the paintings, and I look over and catch you staring off into space. The museum is fairly empty this late in the day, and I walk up behind you and wrap my arms around you, pressing my body against you, slipping my hand down to rub your cock lightly through your jeans. You lean back against me, and it gives me just enough room to slip my hand in and touch your skin. I feel you growing slowly under my fingers. We hear footsteps, so I walk away from you just as a middle aged man comes into the room. I look back, and can see from where I am that you're fully hard. I smile at you and lick my lips, walking away from you - making sure to shake my ass just a little - I want to know you're paying attention. You walk up behind and try to press yourself against my ass, but I walk away again. I want to tease you for awhile longer.

There's a bench in the middle of the room, in front of my favorite painting - Lovers In Red - and I walk to it, put my purse on it and lean over, sticking my ass as high in the air as I can. I know you'll look, and I want you to. I sit down and stretch - one of the ones that sound like I do when you make me come - and I do it loud enough that the man standing in the corner turns to look at me briefly, but my eyes are on you, only you. You can see that my nipples are hard through the dress I wore and realize that I didn't wear a bra, and when I see that you're well and truly looking at me, I turn slightly toward you and lift my skirt higher on my thighs, spread my legs a little and you can see my bra isn't the only thing I didn't wear.

At the angle I'm sitting, I know no one can see what I'm doing but you, and I lick my index finger and slowly, making sure your eyes are on me, slowly run it down between my tits, down across my stomach and between my pussy lips, finding my clit and rubbing, just a little. You sit down next to me, and I can see how hard you are, and I want you - you know I do. I don't stop rubbing my clit, though, and you can hear how wet I'm getting from the noise my fingers make sliding back and forth.

I brought a jacket with me, and I lay it across your lap and reach underneath it. Undoing your belt, unzipping your pants, slipping my hand in, rubbing your hard cock again through your boxers, then inside to touch you. My hand is gripping you softly, sliding my fingers up and down, jacking you off with one hand and rubbing my clit with the other. I'm wishing the guy wandering around the exhibit would leave, but it doesn't seem like he's going to anytime soon. It's so frustrating, but I'm so close to coming that I don't stop, increasing the rhythm of my hands, both on you and on me. You reach up and pinch my left nipple and that's enough to send me over the edge. I'm coming and trying to do it as quietly as possible, but one small moan escapes me, causing our friend to look around again. He's finally gotten the idea and starts to leave, and as he walks by, I can see that he must have been paying more attention than I thought because his dick is very obviously hard, too.

Once he's gone, I get on my knees in front of you and take your cock into my wet mouth. You're so hard that it doesn't take more than a couple licks, a couple circles of your cock head with my tongue, a couple times sliding you all the way into my mouth before you're coming too, and I swallow every last drop of you. You're still hard - you always are - and I stand up and walk around to the other side of the bench, making you get up to stand behind me. I want to fuck you and look at this painting at the same time. I bend over with my ass in the air again, my skirt hiked up around my hips, and you're inside me, sliding in so easily because I'm so wet. I'm so turned on that I come again almost immediately. You're completely soaked with my come, so am I - I can feel my thighs getting wet from it.

You know my favorite thing when we're both this wet is for you to fuck my ass, and you do, shoving your cock in, one hand on my hip, the other reaching around to rub my clit, then sticking your fingers in my mouth. It's awkward, so I do it myself, rubbing hard while you fuck me - again, I'm coming again and I beg you to fuck me harder when I do.

You pull out and sit down, and I climb into your lap and slide my soaking pussy down on your shaft, my hands on your shoulders helping push me up and down. My legs wrapping around you, your hands on my hips again, lifting me higher so that every time I come down, it's just a little harder, a little harder, so close to you that my clit rubs against you ever so slightly every time. Oh god, you're gonna make me come again! I try to slow down, but you won't let me. Lifting me up again and again, you bite my neck and your breathing quickens, you groan low and deep in your throat and I know you're about to come, too. My legs are tighter around you, my pussy gripping your cock as hard as I can, and as I feel you start to shoot deep inside me, I'm coming again, again, again, soaking both of us once more.

We're both exhausted and though we hear more footsteps coming this way, neither of us moves. The security guard pokes his head in through the doorway to tell us that the Museum is about to close, and I'm positive he can see from the way my face is flushed that something's up, but he doesn't say anything, just winks at me and walks on. I climb off you, lean down to clean my come off your cock, and zip you up.

We leave, hand in hand, with your come snaking a lazy trail down the inside of my thigh...