Chapter 2
On the night that Tabitha visited the gallery, Bradley was exhibiting a few pieces of his newer pieces along with phases from his past work. The exhibit was billed as a compendium of his career to date, and most of the attendees were admirers of his works from one era or another. So, he was among a friendly, appreciative crowd. What better time to branch out into a new direction?
In the middle of the gallery, there was a large stand-up armoire, finely finished and fitted with bronze doorknobs and latches, with ivory feet at its base. There was no explanation, and as the evening wore on, the piece was more or less overlooked among his works. At 8:45, over an hour after the start of the exhibit, among the chatter of the attendees, muffled sounds began emanating from within the armoire.
Only the visitors closest to the piece heard anything, but even they either dismissed it or mistook the noise as being from another source. The noises, though, clearly human, continued and got louder, and soon it became clear that this was a female, moaning from inside the box.
It wasn't long before the noises, along with the attention from the nearest attendees, attracted the notice of the whole gallery, which led everyone to turn towards the piece in silence. It was becoming obvious that the female within the armoire was moaning in pleasure and nearing a climax, and they couldn't wait to hear it. When she did, it was loud, uninhibited and, well, satisfying. There were smiles and a few scattered claps as the noise subsided.
Bradley and the gallery staff made no comment, but listened in with everyone else. With no further noise, conversations started again and the exhibit continued. Moments later, though, the noises started again. Eyebrows raised, smirks exchanged, and again, attention was rapt until this anonymous exhibitionist brought forth another thundering orgasm. I was obvious to everyone that it was genuine.
Such unabashed joy was surely hard to fake. Inside, Alison was enjoying herself thoroughly. While she was anonymous and would remain so, the thrill of publicly exposing her most private moments was intoxicating. There was no need for butt plugs, vibrators or whips, though she indulged herself by rolling her nipples roughly while masturbating her wet pussy. The scene itself, along with her fingers touching her totally nude body was enough to inspire multiple orgasms...Bradley silently counted five before Alison apparently curled up inside the armoire and fell asleep exhausted and satisfied.
Tabitha was in the audience and thought the experience was indeed art. She smiled the whole time, and giggled with the others, and really enjoyed being part of the show...as the audience always is in performance art. She was also sopping wet. As Bradley correctly guessed earlier, she wasn't wearing panties, but thankfully, her dampness stayed within the confines of folds of her pussy, sparing her any embarrassment.
Of course, even if it showed, she wouldn't have been alone. While she didn't notice, nor was she looking, she assumed that most in attendance were very turned on in addition to enjoying the art of it. She would have to treat herself to a long, leisurely masturbation session when she got back to the apartment, but she did want to hang around some more and talk to the artist.
Bradley made his way around the crowd, and never made mention of what had just happened, focusing instead on his other artwork. The other attendees seemed to know that NOT talking about it was part of show. When he came to Tabitha, he smiled and introduced himself and asked if she had any questions about his works. She unabashedly told him that she really enjoyed the performance art and that she hadn't been that aroused in a long time. It didn't come across as an invitation, just as a simple statement.
With the taboo broken, Bradley dove right into the subject; walking Tabitha through the details of how the idea came about and about how the medium made it work because of her openness and joy. He also said that he felt it was probably common to get turned on by being heard, or watched, and of course, to be a voyeur.
He told Tabitha about a time when he was in college when a girlfriend had, unbeknownst to him, had all her girlfriends hiding in her apartment so that they could watch while his date stepped out of her dress in the common room of her dorm and had a long session of sex with Bradley. Bradley said that he didn't know what had happened until a week afterwards, and even years later, it never failed to give him an erection to think that he had been watched by so many girls that night.
Tabitha would have expected that such frank talk would lead to a pick-up line, or at least some kind of veiled invitation to get together. That vibe was not coming from Bradley. He was just like her...open and comfortable with himself and without the need to play games. Tabitha thanked him for the show, shook his hand with a smile and excused herself. Of course, she went straight home, stripped nude, flopped on her bed and luxuriously played with herself until she had a long, deep intense orgasm.
In the morning, Tabitha woke up, still nude and in the same position she'd been after she came. She considered the show from last night, and acknowledged to herself that it had had an effect on her.
She was still sopping wet, and knew that she'd have to make herself come again or she'd be crawling the walls all day. This time, she didn't want it slow and sexy. She wanted it quick and hard so that she could move on with her morning. She went to her chest of drawers and pulled out the biggest vibrating dildo she had and set it to high.
She knelt on top of the bed, reached the dildo down between her legs and sunk down to bury the dildo to the hilt. She ground against it as she ran her free hand over her body, which sent shudders inside her dripping entrance while she rubbed her clit with four fingers. Within a minute, she had a full-blown orgasm that left her breathing hard and even seeing some stars. She flopped back on her back and mindlessly let her hands drift over her tingling body until she cooled down.
That was a good, hard orgasm she thought, but within a minute or two, she wondered if she could coax out just one more. She was still not quite relieved. She hadn't had two orgasms that close together before, but she felt she needed it now. This time, she was even more perfunctory, placing the vibrating tip of the dildo right against her clit, and closing her legs tight around it. She had to work a little for it, but as soon she thought about the woman in the armoire, she let loose with another wrenching come.
After a little groggy recovery time, she felt she could get up, make some coffee and start her day. She had an interview downtown at eleven, and she needed to get going. She threw on a black skirt and white button down shirt, both professional, but form fitting. She opted for open-toed flat shoes, her toe ring peeking out adorably.
Her interview went well and she was actually offered the job by the end of the morning of interviews with the firm's principals. It was a marketing job for a local manufacturer of custom hardware supplies, and she had run into the owner during a 5k run a month ago. He was in his 50's, she had guessed, and seemed like a good fellow. Her job would be to look at his business, which was family owned and which sold their wares throughout the few closest counties. Her aim would be to expand the geographic reach beyond their traditional market region, perhaps even internationally. She had a marketing degree, but obviously was young and unproven.
