Private Tour

She was full of questions and eye contact. He told her of the history of another and another painting as she listened with an approximation of attention. If she'd asked him to repeat what he'd just said he couldn't have obliged her. He was aware that he was speaking a familiar speech that he'd given to tour groups of grandmothers and art students before her but he couldn't say at what point in the speech he was. He could draw her deep blue eyes from memory though. He knew the brushstrokes that would paint her hair.

At the end of each speech at each painting she riddled him with questions. Had this artist been influenced by a certain other artist? From whose collection did the museum receive it? Had it been offered or was it pursued? How many times had they asked? She knew the answers. He felt her study his reactions at each question mark. He felt her undressing him with her eyes from his knowledge downward.

"What is your least popular exhibit?" she asked, her gaze penetrating him as he welcomed more.

"The furniture on the lower level."

She stepped forward. "Why isn't it popular?"

He stuttered for the first time and expected her to lose interest when he couldn't answer. "It's a bauhaus desert down there most days. Particularly during the week. I don't know why. Perhaps..."

She grabbed his crotch. "Show me."

"Of course." His entire body stiffened in her hand.

The furnishings were separated by continents. By time. By style, by influence, by owner. Each room was a different epoch of beds and night stands. Or ancient place settings arranged on grand dining tables as though waiting for servants to broach the velvet ropes and serve the evening's meal to absent guests.

"What do you think they had for dinner?" She turned to face him and leaned on a gold stanchion, arms behind her waist.

"I'm not sure what was available at the time but I suspect..."

"I'm not interested in your suspicions, docent."

He stammered again at her question. He knew the entire world of the first and second floors but here he was out of his element. He could read the placards to her but her intellect and her curiosity demanded more. He feared his lack of knowledge would send her away and her hand would play elsewhere.

"I'm afraid that..."

"No, docent." His cock stiffened as she again called him by his title. "You shouldn't be afraid of anything here."

She walked toward him and slowly pulled her dark skirt up with each step. When she was almost directly in front of him he saw the tops of her stockings and just a brief glimpse of the flesh above before she was almost pressed against him.

"There aren't any wrong answers."

He leaned forward to kiss her and she pulled back her head. "But there may be a few missteps."

Confused, his breath stopped. She grinned almost imperceptibly and gathered her skirt in front of herself, holding it now in one hand as she reached out for him with the other. She brought his hand to her panties. She rubbed his knuckles and the backs of her fingers softy against the silky material. "Slide them down." Her voice was sweet and assured. Wrapped in her breath the command sounded more like a proposal.

He kneeled and brought them to her ankles. She stepped one foot out of them, leaving her panties to dangle across her other instep. She placed her hands on his shoulders and kept him in place. She stepped her free foot out of her heels and placed it lightly on his bent knee. He moved his head forward so that her pubic hair tickled his nose.

He slid his hands up to her hips to keep the skirt out of his way. He had to bend slightly but from his angle he could kiss her pussy. He felt her breath a little heavier as he kissed more and more, getting lost in pleasuring her. He closed his mouth around her and slid his tongue between her lips. He felt them give way she she clutched his shoulder. Finally he felt her clit beneath his tongue and her body shuddered at the discovery. He sucked on it gently and pressed it between his teeth and tongue. She moved her hips closer to his face, frustratedly trying to give him the angle she wanted.

"No... No wrong answer. Just missteps," she said as she took her foot from his thigh. With the confidence of a lordess in her manor she unbuckled the red velvet rope and walked to the table. "Show me your cock."

He opened his uniform jacket and unzipped his pants. He reached through his underwear and pulled out his dick. She slid plates aside and bent herself over the table. She flipped up her skirt, showing him her ass. The curves of her thighs were more seductive above the top of her thigh highs.

"Make me come," she said.

He followed her to the table and used one hand to slide the head of his dick against her pussy. He gripped her ass with the other, delighting in the perfect shape, the perfect firmness. He rubbed the head up and down and she shoved herself back on him, trying take him inside her herself. He held her hips in his hands and entered her in one deep, swift stroke. He could feel the warmth of her thighs against his pants.

He clenched her hips and slowly brought the length of his dick back before jamming it back in quickly. Her pretense was lost and she moaned sweetly. She'd carried it with her all day and had been looking for the right place to drop it. Against his cock was perfect.

He used his grip to pull her onto him as he thrust forward. Her wetness enveloped his cock with electricity. He moved his hands to her ass and watched as the red marks from his fingers formed a picture of their own. He clenched her tightly as he fucked her. Soon her movements matched his and he watched his cock slide in and out of her. The red outlines of his palms spread out at haphazard angles across her hips and ass.

She was pushing herself harder onto him now. Her hands gripped the table and she used it to push back and follow him each time he pulled backward. The table settings rumbled unnoticed. He answered her hips with harder thrusts of his own. She moaned out into the silence and he felt her legs begin to shake.

He was so close to coming and worked equally as hard to stave off his orgasm as he worked to fuck her into ecstasy. He flexed his cock, trying to keep going. Her moans changed and her hips started rubbing up and down against his waist. He took one arm around her and stepped slightly closer. He fucked her and fucked her without his cock ever leaving her cunt. Just the rhythm of their hips and he knew he was hitting her g-spot just the way she wanted.

Her body exploded against him in great shudders. The composure that had been behind her questioning eyes upstairs was now splayed across the table as he felt her body unconsciously squeeze his dick after she came. He slowed down and let her come to.

Panting, she asked "You didn't..."

"No. No, I didn't."

"Good." She grinned and spun him against the table.

She fell to her knees and almost as quickly she'd taken him completely into her mouth. He felt her tongue dance against the sensitive underside of his dick. She moved her head quickly back and forth, one hand on his ass and the other around the base of his cock. She swirled her hand as she moved back and forth. He loved watching her bright red lips encircle him. She looked up at him, the head of his dick in her mouth, and jerked him off, never looking away. The docent came suddenly and forcefully into her mouth. She swallowed it all and danced the tip of her tongue just beneath the tip as more and more spilled out.

He collapsed against the table. She stood up and straightened her clothes. They held eyes for a moment and she grabbed his cock on last time, softly tugging as his erection faded.

"You'll pick all of this up then?" asked matter of factly.

"Y-yes. Yes, I will take care of that."

"Very good, docent. Don't forget my panties."