A Creative Challenge

If I had known about the stunt that Greta and Amy had planned I probably would have tried to stop them from staging it, because I would not have been sure that it would work as well as it did. But I would have been underestimating Amy's confidence and her ability to get away with almost anything she did, and it certainly worked out well for Greta and me. In the days following the show, Amy's performance was the hottest topic on local talkback radio, one that kept on coming up again and again. The community was divided between the people who said, "Good on her, I wish we could all be so uninhibited", and the ones who said she should have been locked up or said she needed her sinful soul to be saved. Amy was interviewed by both radio and TV, and the newspapers carried pictures of her and some of my artworks.

Now, three weeks later, the novelty of being the center of attention was wearing a bit thin for both of us, but especially for Amy, who was starting to feel a bit hounded, and her comment about me getting the fortune while all she got was 25 bucks an hour and her bare ass in the paper was true. This had already been bothering me before she said it out loud, and the last thing I wanted was for Amy to feel resentful and lose her enthusiasm for what we were doing. The money wasn't important to me, but my artistic development was, and my work had improved out of sight since Amy had moved in with me. For that alone I was extremely indebted to her.

"Did you see what came in the mail this morning?" I asked her, as she was about to kneel up on the dais and take up the pose again.

"No, you know I don't read your mail."

I handed her Greta's cheque for all the pictures she had sold. It was minus the gallery's commission and expenses of course, but it was still a very substantial amount of money. Amy's eyes widened when she saw it.

"Wow, is this all yours? That's wonderful, I'm so pleased for you."

"No, it's not all mine. Here's your half", I said, handing her another cheque, this time one signed by me.

"You're kidding me, Sam. You know I can't take this."

"Why not?"

"Because... it's yours. Because I didn't earn it. Because you already paid me for my bit. Because it's not right."

"But I think it is right. Look at it this way, Amy. Greta would normally sell about half the works on display. She sold all of the current exhibition for three times what my stuff usually sells for, so this cheque from her is about six times as much as a show would normally bring me. Even if I give you half, I'm still well in front, and I wouldn't have any of it if it wasn't for you."

"But..."

"No arguments. We were partners in this project, remember. It's yours. I insist."

Amy looked at the cheque in disbelief. She shook her head, then smiled at me.

"That's great, thank you, Sam. But you've got a problem. You'll have to get another model, now, because I quit. I'm rich enough not to have to work for another 12 months." She saw my face drop, and nearly wet herself laughing. "JOKE! You goose, Sam. If you think I'd stop modelling for you now, you must be crazy."

Amy was sitting on the edge of the dais and she reached forward and took hold of my balls and gently pulled them towards her. When someone pulls on your genitals, you can be sure your legs will follow in the same direction, so I stepped forward towards her as she put the whole of my still limp cock in her mouth. The effect of her quickly-moving tongue on the sensitive underside of my penis was immediate and within seconds her mouth was full of my favourite part of me.

When Jeannie and I were first going out, she was reluctant to give me a blow job, and this used to puzzle me because she was not at all inhibited in other ways. Finally, I managed to get her to confess why, and the reason was simply that because she wasn't used to doing it, it felt like a very strange and awkward thing to do, and therefore she thought that it must also make her look ugly and undignified. It took me a while to convince her that a woman could never look more beautiful to a man than when she has his cock in her mouth.

The truth is, her face will never look more beautiful to you than when your cock is all the way down her throat as far as it will go, and that is exactly what I thought about Amy's lovely face as she swallowed all of me and pushed the lower part of her face into my stomach, her smiling eyes looking up at mine and twinkling with mischief.

She closed her eyes and concentrated on giving me the best blow job in the world. As she pulled her head backwards, her tongue massaged the bulb of my penis, and as she pushed her head towards me again, her tongue came forward, opening her throat to me. She began quite slowly, and as she gradually increased her speed, she left one hand on my buttocks and with the other she gently massaged my balls. I opened my legs slightly and stretched one hand out to lean on the wall behind her so that I was braced and better balanced. Saliva was dribbling out of her mouth and on to her hand, making my balls wet as well. The middle finger of her massaging hand worked some of that wetness around my asshole, teasing it with gentle pressure. Soon she had a solid rhythm going, and her face was slapping into my belly with every stroke. I stood motionless, there was nothing I needed to do except savour every moment, wishing this blissful experience would last forever but knowing that what was left of it would only be measured in seconds not eternities. Amy could feel the skin of my scrotum tighten even further as I gathered momentum towards my orgasm, and she could sense me arching my back, and feel me standing up on tiptoe as my calves tightened. Just before the explosive moment, I made a gentlemanly attempt to pull out of her mouth, but she was ready for me. Her hand on my buttocks pulled me firmly towards her, so that if I moved backwards, her head came with me, and she pushed her finger into my asshole and then crooked it back towards herself, massaging my very excited prostate which could do nothing else but explode, emptying its entire contents into Amy's throat. She stayed pressed against me, unable to breathe, until my convulsions had completely subsided, then she let me go, gasping for breath, giggling and putting both hands round her throat as if someone was choking her.

The emotional and physical release of an orgasm manifests itself differently in different people. Jeannie would sometimes burst into tears in the middle of a great orgasm, which worried me a lot at first until she reassured me that she was not unhappy, but just the opposite. Me, I tend to laugh during extremely pleasurable moments, and this was one of them. Amy's antics, and the intensity of my orgasm had me roaring with laughter, tears rolling down my face.

"That's the first time I've done that," said Amy.

"What, swallowed?" I asked.

"No, of course not. If I like a man well enough to suck his cock, I'll usually swallow his cum. I meant that's the first time I've ever DT'd someone while they came so that I swallowed it all without actually tasting any of it."

"DT?" I asked.

"Sam, wake up! Taking it right down like that is called 'Deep Throating'. Sometimes I wonder what rock you've been hiding under for the last few years."

"I knew that," I said.

"Yeah, right. Come on, I'm rich, I'll buy you lunch."

"Are you still hungry? You only just had a protein thick shake."

"Sam, I have a hunger that goes way beyond that."

That could have been an innocent remark, but it was loaded with alternative meanings. As she went to put some clothes on to go out, I wondered if I was being too sensitive, or whether I was underestimating this complex young woman.