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Message-ID: <41143asstr$1046823003@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: the_panda@hotmail.com (Paris Waterman)
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NNTP-Posting-Date: 4 Mar 2003 17:43:20 GMT
Subject: {ASSM} "The Artist"
Date: Tue,  4 Mar 2003 19:10:03 -0500
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The Artist

By Paris Waterman

Copyright 2002
Revised 2003

Her heart was hammering, banging away against her chest. She unlocked
the car and quickly got inside and slammed the door. She started the
car and turned the AC on high and stuck her face in one of the vents.
Still feeling flushed and warm, she unbuttoned the top four buttons of
her dress, pulled it open, and directed another vent to her chest.
"Jesus," she thought, as she tried to put the memory of the feel of
his inner thigh into perspective. She'd been caught off guard. But
what could she have done? He'd simply grabbed her and they were off
around the room, smiling, meeting, and pretending . . . If . . . if
only he'd continued to hold her hand as they walked from group to
group. But he hadn't done that. Instead, he'd release her hand and
then touch her back during one introduction. Put his arm around her
for another. Take her hand for yet another, each time bringing her
into contact with another part of his anatomy. The hardness of his
chest here, the strong inner muscle of his thigh there; and each time
the renewed contact with her warmed flesh vividly re-created a sense
of what he must be like. Or more accurately, it created a heightened
curiosity, a desire to know . . . or maybe . . . simply . . . a
desire. Fanning herself furiously, she continued the thought. It
certainly wasn't the first time a man had played her; it was more a
part of her chemistry, and partly her age. She was rattled at finding
herself responding to his sophisticated sexuality. She told herself to
stop thinking like this. Too get the car going and in just ten minutes
she'd be home and headed into the shower, where she could . . . She
took a toilette packet from her purse, opened it, and wiped her
sweating forehead and across the tops of her breasts. She put the
towlette in the trash and, leaving her dress unbuttoned, put the car
in gear, only to shift back to park and turn the engine off. He was
crouching next to her window.

"May I join you in the car?" He said. "It looks so invitingly cool in
there."
Despairingly, she knew she'd come to the line. "Oh . . . Sure . . .
Get in," she said weakly, crossing the imaginary line - all the while
deploring her actions. She started the car again as he opened the
passenger door, slid into the bucket seat beside her and closed the
door.

"Uummmm, that's a relief," his voice so calm and confident.

"He's lying," she thought, "but . . . Oh, look at him." 

He continued talking in that smooth husky manner. "You have no idea
how glad I am to have caught up to you before you left. I really had
no way of contacting you."

He reached out and touched her face, one hand lightly on each cheek.
He leaned forward and kissed her twice lightly on the forehead.

She didn't resist. 

He continued kissing her, little butterfly nips here, others quick as
a flash, still others soft and lingering, moving steadily downward. He
brushed her eyelashes, her reflexes caused her to blink; then she
consciously closed her eyes. Almost as a reward, he kissed each one in
turn. His lips lightly skimmed her nose, searching for her mouth,
stopping enroute to suck gently on her cheek; to her chin, where for
the first time she felt his tongue, feather light in a flickering
lick.
"Oh, my God," she thought; as she detected her inner core begin to
throb. "I can't control this!"

Finally, his lips touched hers. Just touching, but lingering, as
though time had stopped. And her mouth opened, tongue touched tongue,
and slowly, softly, the velvet tip of his tongue began to circle hers.
Indicating her surrender, she laved her tongue back and forth across
his while uttering a subdued sigh, revealing her increasing desire to
him.

Abruptly severing the kiss, he looked into her eyes as they opened,
only to teasingly say, "Ah, you liked that, didn't you. Well let's
continue, shall we?" He pulled her head close once again and found her
mouth open, eagerly awaiting his. He sucked upon her lower lip, moving
eventually to the upper lip. Then the two tongues were dueling
frantically. This parrying continued for almost ten minutes. It was
she who broke the kiss, pretending to gasp for air, actually trying to
make a decision she failed to realize was already made. Relentlessly,
his tongue probed the inner recesses of her open neckline. He could
feel her pulse racing, as he tenderly kissed along and down her neck.

"His hands - where are his hands? The octopus," she thought, emerging
from her sensual haziness. "God help me, my dress is wide open. Ahhh,
I did it myself - what a slut I am," she postulated, as if reciting a
familiar lament to herself.

His hands passed smoothly, quietly, and quite undisturbed down the
face of her breasts, stopping only to open the front clasp of her
turquoise bra, and releasing its captive globes.

"Oh, those hands," she thought - as they quickly moved to circle and
cup her generous breasts. She felt his hardness for the first time,
pressing against her thigh. She formed a mental picture; "He's got a
monster. It's huge! I can't take that thing . . . I could never . . .
What's that he's doing? How the hell did he know I . . .?"

With a suddenness that surprised him, she pulled him closer to her and
cried out, "Oh, yeesss! Yes, do that, oh, God . . . Yes! Yes!"

He was licking around the outer edge of her areola. She reveled in the
sensation as he continued dragging his tongue in gentle circles around
the circumference of her areolas. While with his other hand, he gently
caressed the fullness of her opposite breast. Never touching her
nipples, which were now hardened and engorged to their fullest.

Her breathing had become more difficult. She found herself taking
deeper breaths, her chest heaving; realizing suddenly that she
couldn't help herself. "Touch them you miserable bastard," she
screamed inwardly, hating herself for not forcing his mouth there.
"All you mother fuckers want tit, don't you? Mouth me! Mouth me!"

 "Ohhhhhh!" It was the softest of moans. Pinioned between conflicting
emotions, and unconsciously grunting, she reached out to clasp him in
her hand, at the same time seeking his lips with hers. She sucked his
tongue tenderly back into her mouth, only to find his response more
aggressive than before. His tongue suddenly lashed at hers, moving
rapidly in and around her teeth, licking her gums one second, sucking
her tongue into his mouth only to nip it gently with his teeth the
next. This produced a reaction she hadn't expected, at least not this
soon as she felt first her loins, and then her entire being thrill to
his combativeness. She responded by squeezing the swollen member
lodged in his slacks, and began to masturbate him - stopping for a
moment, only to grope for the zipper and free "the monster."

He watched her as she stared at it. 

"Play with it if you like," he whispers, not wanting to break her
concentration at this delicate point. He needn't have been concerned.
Slowly, with an almost morbid fascination, she rubbed her hand back
and forth over the silken skin on the head of his impressive erection.
He shifted position to give her wandering fingers better access. Then
she lowered her head and calmly took as much of him as she could into
her mouth. Only the bulbous head disappeared. He moaned in pleasure,
and continued with his methodical seduction, noting with satisfaction
how erect and hard her nipples were.

She released him and raised her head to look at him. But he ignored
her eyes and concentrated on her breast. And she watched enthralled as
his mouth hovered over one; intently focused as his lips pursed before
softly blowing on it as if playing a flute. She is compelled to draw
in a breath and he notes this as a favorable reaction. But after
giving the nipple a light nip, she can't take it and shoves his head
away from her inflamed teat in order to feast upon his rigid prick
which she sees hovering below. Trembling, she descends upon it,
sucking more of his member into her mouth this time; laving her tongue
around and about the "monster."

"It's my monster," she thinks. "Oh, Christ it's big. But it tastes so
good and I feel so good sucking on it." She can't help but reach down
with her other hand to touch herself and discovers that she is
drenched.

"This bastard knows what he's doing. He's an artist," she concluded as
she shifted into a more comfortable position. "My God, he's only begun
on me . . . Ohhhhhh, shit!" Flashes of white heat raced though her
system from her inner core. Once again taking the "monster" into her
mouth, she gloried in her encounter, and simultaneously cursed her
luck as she realized she was in a parked car on a public thoroughfare.
"Anyone can see in. I'm like a horny high school bitch in heat," she
moaned to herself. Then, as his fingers closed tightly upon her
nipple, she sighed, and analyzing her feelings, concluded she was very
close to coming.

"How can that be?" Confused, she reflected: "It's so soon."

Through a veil of sexual haze she felt his hand begin to explore the
mystery of her lower torso. Down. Down. Down. Across the crest of the
hip, to the front of the hipbones - all the while his lips drawing
tenderly on her nipple - sending sensual shock waves throughout her
nervous system. Abandoning herself to lust, she began lavishing kiss
upon kiss on the "monster" all the while gently cupping the soft, huge
sacs hanging below.

In turn, his hand crept lower and slid under her dress, causing it to
rise appreciatively.
She sighed, and lifted her hips to accommodate him in finding the soft
downy hair above her mons. His fingers traced languorously downward in
tempo with the continued hard plucking on her nipple, into an area
covered with dew slightly thicker than sweat. He samples the dew, and
with careful deliberation, coats the finger bringing it to her lips as
an offering. Removing his member from her mouth she leans towards the
offered finger with her tongue extended accepting his gift. She
recognizes the taste of the bitter vanilla bean flavor of her center
instantly. The taste of his finger is secondary, but she continues
sucking on it until he withdraws it, a smile on his face. Her breath
now knows no regular pattern. His hands are tracing hearts on the
insides of her thighs from the underside of her knee to the crease
where outer labia meet leg. She feels his mouth nipping tiny kisses
along her abdomen, and still holding him firmly in her hand, she rolls
over to her back, opening her legs to allow him access to nirvana. Her
aroma is everywhere, intoxicating him, demanding that he taste and
drink of her. Her first climax hits the moment she feels his lips upon
her. It has been building since she reached the car. He inserts a
finger into her, moving it in small circles. The first climax
continues, producing a flow of translucent fluid from her to trail
down her thigh as she arches her back and moans in ecstasy.

With the contact of his tongue upon her clitoris, the waves of a
second climax break over her psyche. An eternity later, the orgasm
gradually recedes and blissfully comes to an end. Regaining her
senses, she tells herself she can gain control if she proceeds
carefully. But then, she's straddling his lap, her calves lined up
against his thighs and her weight resting on her knees, as she places
him against her center and sinks down upon the "monster."

"I'm lost . . . oh my God, he owns me," she thought before dropping
into an erotic vagueness - out of control - lost to sensual bliss as
his massive member began to fill her. Rising up and down, her wetness
permits the "monster" to fully penetrate her by the third stroke. Each
upward stroke creates a loud sucking sound within the confines of her
car. She finds this both embarrassing and exhilarating. Leaning
forward - her hair cascading down and across her face to his shoulders
- she wonders briefly about tomorrow's bruises from knocking and
bumping into the dashboard and armrests. She tosses her head, moving
the hair from over her eyes. He pulls hard on her nipples, stretching
them to twice their normal length. The pain, the thrill, the joyous
feeling from this action fills her being and her motions shift into a
frenzied pace. Up and down, she rides him. Finally, unable to sustain
a satisfying consistency, she changes to a rocking circular motion;
and moments later to a quick variation to side to side movements. "Oh,
God Ohhh, God!" she spits the words out through froth laden lips as
she exhausts her diversity, thrusting and heaving wildly, in a back
and forth stirring frenzy.

His fuse has burned its entire length and he erupts in a tremendous
explosion. As she senses his sperm heating her cervix, a major orgasm
jolts her system. For a split second she endures an out of body
experience and looks down at the two enjoined bodies below. Then it's
over. She lifts herself off him, and bending slightly, kisses the
limpid "monster."

He reaches for her and kisses her lips tenderly. "That was better then
I ever dreamed it could be," he says.

"Yes," she answers, "like spontaneous combustion." In a shallow
attempt to disguise her fear of rejection, she manages to avoid
stammering and asks, "Will I see you again?"

Secretly relieved that he had evaded the inner turmoil of having to
remain calm in the face of her rejection, He smiled. "Will dinner
tomorrow work for you?" he says quietly.
Smiling for the first time since getting in the car, she haltingly
replies, "Yes. Around eight would be great."

Silently, they repair their clothing. Then, as he'd begun, he took her
face in both hands and kissed her, it was a long, gentle kiss that
would not only end that night, but also serve as a prelude to many
more nights of enchantment.

***
"I knew I'd have her from the moment I held her hand," he told himself
as he sauntered toward to his car.

"My plan to seduce him worked like a charm," she lied to herself as
she put the car in gear and drove away.

The End

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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