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The Art Gallery

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I lean in close to you, giggling, and whisper “Guess what I’m wearing!”

You raise an eyebrow as you look me up and down, taking in the sensible and demure charcoal grey coat that ends just above my knees. It’s zipped up to just below my chin, because it’s chilly out as we walk to the art gallery. You observe my knee-high boots, the bare skin that flirts with your vision between where my boots ends and my coat starts.

“A new skirt? No, a dress,” you say.

I shake my head, grinning, and skip ahead of you while you continue calling out guesses.

“You’re not even close,” I call back over my shoulder, running up the steps into the gallery. It’s late, a last-minute decision; the art gallery closes in 40 minutes, barely enough time to make it worth it … if I planned to look at the art. But I have other plans for you.

You catch up to me, and we enter together, observing the different exhibits. Your hand rests casually against the back of my neck, your thumb rubbing idly against the sensitive skin under my ear. I shiver under your touch and wiggle a little as a breeze sweeps up under my jacket and over my bare legs. The gallery is almost empty, one or two other people here and there. I wander around idly, but slowly working my way in the direction I want to go. I’ve been by a few times already, so I know where everything is and the busier times of day.

“Brat,” you whisper in my ear, biting lightly and laughing when I give a surprised yelp. Maltepe Escort “Tell me.”

I shake my head at you and frown with mock sternness.

“It’s a surprise!”

I gasp when you pull me against you and kiss me deeply, blushing because I know even though it’s mostly empty, there are still a few people watching. Your hand slides to the bottom of my coat and under, along the bare skin of my thigh; I feel your surprise as you pause, realizing that there is no skirt, no dress, there to stop your wandering fingers. You roam higher, and then chuckle when you touch the smooth fabric of my panties.

“Oh, you bad girl,” you tsk, pulling away from me. I duck my head shyly, still blushing, and grab your hand in mine, tugging you forward.

“This way,” I say. Bemused, you let me pull you along and smile broadly when you see the public washrooms sign and the absolute lack of people anywhere around. I hesitate, and then duck into the men’s, you following close behind me. I slip into the far stall and you shut and lock the door as I turn to face you, my fingers fiddling with the zipper of my jacket. As I hesitate, you take charge, brushing my hands aside to pull the zipper down. Your eyes widen with surprise as inch by naked inch reveals itself and you realize that I’m wearing nothing but the panties you felt earlier and my knee-high boots.

“Bad girl,” you say again, your voice rough with lust as you slide my jacket off. You lean down İstanbul Escort and suck my nipple into your mouth, your hands rough on my hips as you pull me into you; I can feel you, already rock hard, and grind my hips against you slightly. You feel the moist heat, and your fingers quest down to investigate, and slide into me – you breathe sharply in surprise, and realize that the panties I have on are crotchless.

“I bought them just for you,” I whisper against your shoulder, the words dragging out of me as you caress your thumb across my clit. You push me back against the wall and fuck me hard with your fingers; my knees tremble, and your hand wrapped around my throat is the only thing that keeps me standing as I start cumming from your relentless assault. You bite my lower lip, suck it into your mouth and then kiss me, thrusting your tongue between my lips as I grind down on your hand.

You give me a minute to catch my breath, and bring your fingers to my mouth for me to lick and suck them clean.

“You taste good, don’t you baby,” you whisper to me, and I nod wordlessly as I wrap my tongue around your fingers and wish it was your cock. As if reading my mind, you push me down to my knees in front of you. I’m pinned between your body and the wall, kneeling on my coat. You slap your hard cock against my face, and say “Beg for it. Tell me how much you want my cock.”

I nuzzle against you, my tongue flickering out to taste your skin Anadolu Yakası Escort as my nails draw idle designs over your flesh.

“I want your cock so bad, please baby, please let me suck you … I want you to cum all over my face. Let me be your little cumslut,” I plead. You groan and in one long, slow, smooth motion, you slide your cock between my lips — you shudder as I swirl my tongue around the tip, and then take your entire length. I gag slightly as you reach the back of my throat, but maintain a slow tempo and lavish your cock with attention from my tongue. When your hips start to keep rhythm with my motions, I move faster; sucking the tip, I use my hands on the base of your shaft and tease the underside of your head with my tongue.

“Oh fuck,” you mutter, and slap my hands away and grab my hair, shoving yourself as far into my mouth and throat as you’ll go. My nose is buried in your groin, and I moan around you, digging my nails into your thighs. “You like that, huh? You like me fucking your throat like a little whore?” I whimper and look up at you adoringly, cupping and fondling your balls in one hand as you fuck my face. “Good girl,” you hiss. You slow your motions, and once again I reach up to jack you off as I suck the last few inches of your cock.

You reach down to play with my tits, pinching my nipples — gently at first, and then with increasing pressure. I moan around your cock and increase my tempo, bobbing up and down on you with enthusiasm. You pound into me now, thrusting your hips with increasing urgency.

You pull away suddenly, and wrap your hand around your cock, jerking rapidly as your cum jets out and covers my face. I smile up at you brightly and lick my lips, savouring the taste of your cum.

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