I watched her. She walked slowly around the gallery her eyes fixed on the canvasses displayed on the walls. Occasionally she would stop and examine a brush stroke or technique and even less stop and gaze at a piece absorbing the artists' work. She stood out from the crowd of attendees at this small gathering in this small town, her long black red hair caught in a loose pony tail with a large wooden clip moved on her bare shoulders. Her dress, so much more daring and bold than any other was like that splash of technicolour in a sepia toned crowd scene. It showed off her breasts well and it was obvious that she wore no bra as her breasts moved as she bent over or moved and if you studied her closely as I was you could see the shapes of her nipples against the cloth. I wondered if she was wearing any underclothes as there were no evidence through the material. The dress would have fallen open but for a belt of twisted leather which evidenced the swell of her hips.
I was not alone in looking at her, I could see from my vantage point others looking. Men looked openly lustful and the belt did nothing to stop them undressing her with their minds. Their wives gave different looks both hostile and admiring, some wishing they too could dress so well, both beauty and sex together.
One man, bolder than his fellows and free to pursue was tracking her around the room, keeping a distance but always within watching distance and his eyes never wavered. As they continues this strange dance movement round the gallery he began to get closer and she became aware of him. Her shy glances at him as she pretended to look at the art were subtle enough for others to miss but the stranger and myself missed nothing of the meaning of the look. She started to be more overt in her movements showing more and more as she bent and lent. Upon entering a new gallery that was almost empty she moved to a seat off to one side and separate from the main room. As she sat she flicked the back of her dress up so it would not crease and she settled onto the cushion and crossed her legs. The stranger strolled into this alcove and turned so he could watch her and look at the art. I saw his eyes flicker as he saw what the subject of the pictures were. From every canvass sex pored if they had been photos it would have been hard core porn...he smiled as his eyes took in the scene.
She moved slowly extending her limbs and as she did so her hands moved slowly caressing her body her head tilted back. Over her breasts and down her body across her pubis and down each thigh. He had turned toward her and moved quickly silently to position himself in front of her spread body, kneeling now his hands pushed up her dress meeting her hands as her hem exposed her thighs and as he moved between them she allowed her legs to part her hands surrendering the control of her dress as she moved them up his arms drawing him in and allowing this stranger to expose her sex. He could see clearly now her neatly trimmed hair and the pinkness of her exposed lips which were even now swelling and opening with her arousal. His arms round her waist as he lowered his head to her, his tongue teasing and tasting her, she moaned softly and spread her legs wider holding his head onto her. I could see her legs trembling has his tongue flicked and probed, her back arching as she began her arousal. He stopped and kneeling up against her sort out her mouth and she kissed him hungrily tasting her own juices as they kissed. Her legs locked around him as she sought to get his body to contact hers.
