Message-ID: <2790eli$9708100050@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: taria29c@aol.com (Taria29c) Subject: RP Ancient Taria: Art Appreciation Part Three (#3/3) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-Id: <19970810020100.WAA27385@ladder01.news.aol.com> (Continued from #2/3) As soon as we got into the back of the cab Mark attacked me, pausing only long enough to give the driver our address. I let him have his way with me for a little while--a process I thoroughly enjoyed--but before too long I called a halt to the proceedings and pulled away, a little mussed. "Mark," I hissed, "the driver!" "Let him get his own girl," he responded, unsuccessfully reaching for my breasts. "He's *watchinnnnngggg*," I protested, giving Mark a little shove, and indeed the cabbie was falshing glances at us through the rear-view mirror, a broad grin on his face. Mark sighed and settled for squeezing over next to me so we were huddled together in the back seat. The annoyed expression on his face revealed his frustration at his wife's anti-exhibitionism. He was wrong; I really could've cared less about the driver. I just wanted to keep Mark at a peak level of anticipation and desire. I looked at my reflected image in the side window and smiled, knowing that I was succeeding. When we eventually did get into the house Mark made as if he was going to jump on me and wrestle me to the ground on the spot. But I headed that off at the pass too. "Honestly, Sweetie, I just feel too disgusting to do anything just yet. I haven't bathed in days, and I bet you haven't either." Mark was looking at me as if I were a little green Martian who just landed on the planet in front of him. "Whaaaaat?" he expostulated, sputtering that he had just showered, and what the hell-- I stepped close to him and put a finger across his lips. "Please, honey. Just a little while longer, I promise. You go in and shower first, nice and squeaky-clean, inside and out." He looked puzzled. "Inside and out, that's right. And then I'll go and take a bath..." He looked apoplectic; whole months have gone by with me in the bathtub. "...a *short* bath, and then I promise you'll get what you deserve." Mark was melting, but he manfully tried to stand his ground. "Remember," I hushed him, "you *did* promise me whatever I wanted on Thursday, and it's Thursday now..." He had the good grace to look a little shamefaced. I gave him a light smack on the butt. "Off with you, then...hop in the shower. Spit-spot!" My husband looked confused--he hadn't expected Mary Poppins after all that foreplay, and he was worn out after all my teasing him. But he dutifully entered the bathroom and started his showering process, sending reproachful looks my way until he finally shut the bathroom door. I knew it would be the shortest shower on record, so I lost no time in running to the bedroom, stripping, jumping into a bathrobe, and grabbing the biggest towel I could find. Just as he was exiting the bathroom I bundled a few vital items into my towel, concealing them within the folds. I brushed past Mark as he was entering the bedroom, a bundle in my arms and an innocent smile on my face. He was naked and still wet, his cock at half-mast as he stood there dripping. I saluted it with my free hand and tenderly stroked his chin for a second, saying "I'll just be a little while." As I neared the bathroom door I reached out and spanked him smartly on his rear end--SMACK--jumped into the bathroom, and locked the door behind me. I hadn't been kidding. I did bathe quickly, but thoroughly, washing my body and all of my orifices with soapy, slippery hands. Although I had been trying hard not to show it, I was as worked up as Mark and maybe more, since I knew what was coming and he didn't. After muttering a quick "I really hope this works" I got myself together, dressed, and covered up with Mark's oversized terrycloth bathrobe. Quivering slightly I unlocked the bathroom door, pulled it open, and made my way to the bedroom. When I got there, everything was perfect, better than I had hoped. During the day Mark had neatened up the bedroom and made the beds, which beckoned to me to muss them up. The lights were dimmed to a decidedly romantic level, and fresh flowers--the white roses he had sent me when we were first dating--adorned the room. Somehow my husband had even found the time to light some candles while I had been bathing, and their strategic placement around the room added to the evening's romance. The object of my affections was resting on the bed, propped up on one arm like the night before. But this time he was on top of the covers, and I breathed a little faster as I gazed at his nakedness, the body I knew so well. I approached him and took his hands in mine, raising him up to kiss me deeply as we stood beside our bed. I held nothing back; I gave him the soul-kiss I had been yearning to share with him all evening, the deep searching comingling of our tongues, our lips, and our passion that I had missed for months. We stood that way for a long while, our mouths bound to each other in a deep, unhurried embrace that made up for all the separations we had endured, all of the long, lonely nights we both had hated so much. When the kiss finally broke our eyes remained locked together, mine misty and welling up a little in the passion of the moment. "I love you," he said, simply and sincerely. I could not speak, but my eyes spoke volumes. "So," he said, breaking the spell, "what shall we do now, hmmmmm?" He waggled his eyebrows in impish glee, and I grinned back at him savagely. "Well," I retorted, "that depends." "On what?" he snapped, the impishness giving way to outright deviltry. I took a deep breath. "On how far you want to go...and how much you trust me." After a long night of surprises, Mark was clearly taken aback by this final challenge, which must represent the climactic shock of the evening. He narrowed his eyes and gave me a sharp, searching look. I looked right back, promising much and pleading for him to take this chance. He smiled, enjoying the way I unsuccessfully tried to hold my anticipation and excitement in check. "Well..." he drawled. "I *did* promise you anything you wanted..." I pushed a little to sit him back on the bed. "I have a little...present for you," I said, and spread my arms wide in front of me. "All you have to do is unwrap it." He looked at me quizzically, a half-smile on his face, and reached out for the knotted bathrobe belt around my waist. As he loosed the knot I shrugged back with my shoulders and dropped the heavy terry robe to the floor behind me. My husband stared. I stood before him in a pale green demi-bra I had bought the day before at a specialty lingerie shop, one which fitted me perfectly, lifting my breasts up and out, my nipples clearly visible through the thin material. Around my waist was a matching garter belt that was clipped to thigh-high stockings, a touch designed to appeal to my husband's ideal of beautiful, intimate femininity. And where my panties should have been was the cock I had purchased so long ago, gleaming slightly after the soapy scrubbing I had given it in the tub, wisps of my dark pubic hair escaping from behind the black leather patch that held it in place. Mark's eyes widened in disbelief, and I imagined that he had turned a shade paler in the dim light. I spoke to him caressingly, soothingly in the sexiest contralto I could muster up. "I love you so much," I said in a low whisper, "and I love your entire body so much. I want to love you, to make love to you everywhere, every way, to do things together that we never imagined." I was running out of steam and genuinely worried now that I had gone too far. "But...if you don't want to..." His gaze shot up, away from the cock jutting out of my pelvis, and locked with mine. I saw heat there, and hunger, and Mark rose to stand before me, crushing my body to his, the springy latex of the cock I wore pressed up against the sudden rock-hardness of his own erect member. I tilted my face upwards and searched out his lips with my own, and then we were kissing again, not the deep soft passion we had shared before but a hungry savage assault of lips and tongues and teeth that startled both of us by its fury. I broke the kiss first and looked sharply at him for signs of any hesitation or discomfort; there were none. I grinned at him, letting the full force of my rising excitement show through. "Lie down, Mark," I said, "on your front." He crawled onto the bed and did so gingerly, carefully positioning his erection as he lay down facing the foot of the bed, his legs on our pillows. Once he was down I stuck a pillow under his head to raise it a little, and then sat down on top of him, my butt resting on the small of his back. I then commenced a long back rub, beginning with the firm circular rubs he likes so much and then tapering off to a more feathery touch. My rubs turned into caresses, and I heard him groan softly, deep within his pillow. I smiled, and wiggled back a little further until I was sitting up on his legs, just beneath his buttocks. My caresses moved up and down his muscular back, down his arms, across his broad width, and then down the sides of his waist. Softly at first, I rubbed the back of my hands past his waist to the top of his crevice, and then across the width of his ass. He moaned again, and I scootched down a little further. Using both hands, one on each cheek, I began to massage his buttocks, my rubbing getting firmer. Waiting for a reaction I spread his cheeks apart, noticing as his muscles clenched almost involuntarily. I had never played with my husband's ass sufficiently, I thought with a smile, realizing with a shock that no one probably ever had. I rubbed some more and then snaked a hand around underneath, moving between his legs and under to the front. Instantly his reactions became more pronounced, and his hips lifted off the bed as my hands hugged his balls, hefting them slightly, rubbing all over them and beneath them, putting firm pressure on the area between his testicles and his anus, massaging his prostate. My hand moved upwards and found the shaft of his cock and encircled it, and with firm pressure I held it tightly. I pulled up and down, emulating the masturbatory strokes I had seen him employ the day before. He moaned loudly and spread his legs wider to give me greater access. By now Mark was almost on his knees, his head still ensconced in the pillow I had given him, his body now mimicking the rear-entry position I had lain in on that bed so often. I continued to stroke his cock, occasionally letting go of his shaft to run my open palm downward over his balls again to knead them and caress them, causing Mark to groan further out of the pleasure he was obviously experiencing. As he rose to his knees I moved around until I was sitting directly behind him, my hand between his legs and on his cock. Without breaking my rhythm I leaned forward and peered at his anus, at the small, dark opening that seemed so tightly shut. Hoping that Mark had heeded my request for a thorough internal washing I let go of his cock, spread his asscheeks apart, and began to run my tongue down his crack, to the tip of the entrance. As Mark squirmed a bit I ran my tongue around its puckered surface, poking in a little with the tip. As I tongued him I returned my hand to his cock and was rewarded with a violent jerk, as it stood up stiffer than I had thought possible in response to my touch. Mark was pushing his ass back against me now, swaying a little as I licked at his ass and pumped his cock, his head now raised and tilted back, his eyes closed. I stopped what I was doing and moved my mouth close to his ear. I whispered, "I love you and I want to fuck you, Darling. I want to fuck you and enter you and fill you the way you do to me..." "Yesssss..." he hissed, his consciousness swirling in a haze of anal pleasure I never expected from him. I turned to my nightstand and found the tube of K-Y Jelly I kept there, pleased at the discovery that there was still some left. I squeezed some onto my finger and applied it to his entrance, massaging it in to the area. I added a more generous dollop and saturated the area, rubbing around the rim of his hole and then slipping a finger inside, causing his hips to buck momentarily. I made little circles inside, making sure that he was well-lubricated, and then glopped a larger amount onto the cock I wore, rubbing it around the head and underneath, and then onto the shaft. Mark spread his legs a little wider, opening himself fully to me. "I love you so much," I murmured, reassuring him with my words and my tone that I only wanted to give him pleasure. Moving very deliberately I kneeled behind my husband, who was positioned with his ass in the air and his head in his pillow, reminding myself of me lying there and of Kathy, who had lain in that very position a month before, waiting for me to enter her with my cock. Using my hand I placed the cock's tip at his entrance and moved it around the opening to ensure that there was enough lubrication to ease its entry into Mark (there was--I must've used half a tube of KY). Resting one hand on Mark's back I moved closer and began to push the cock into him, using my hand at first and not my hips. Mark gasped as the cock pushed into his ass, and I pushed further until the flared crown of the latex cock was inside. Remembering my doctor's band-aid removal techniques from my childhood I kept pushing, determined to get it over with all at once. Mark gasped again as the cock plunged deeper into his virgin territory (though maybe not--how did I know what had been in there when he was alone today?), and I rolled my hips forward until I had pushed it all the way within him, my pelvis up against his backside. He was on his hands and knees again, having raised himself a little to a better angle, and I was overcome with a sense of strangeness, of altered states. How many times had I fucked Mark when he was behind me, pressing back against him as he pushed his cock deeper and deeper inside my body? Here we were with roles reversed in a way I had never imagined. I pulled my hips back slightly and the cock moved with me, pulling back out of Mark's ass most of the way. I pushed back inwards; Mark gasped once again, and then emitted a low moan; I pulled back; I thrust forward; Mark moaned again. Slowly and gradually I began to fuck Mark with the cock I wore, in and out of his ass in a deliberate but steady rhythm. Mark began to moan in earnest now, his anal passage becoming accustomed to the length and width of the cock. The stimulation of my fucking motions was getting to him, and his hips began to move in rhythm with the thrusts I made. With one hand he grabbed hold of the bed's footboard, to steady himself. With the other he began to pump his cock, his hand picking up speed rapidly. I stopped moving and rested my hands on his waist, just above his hips, the cock buried in him to the hilt. I spoke to him slowly, with urgency: "No, Mark...slowly...let's make this last." Mark's hand slowed its pumping, and I resumed the rhythm of my thrusting moving the cock smoothly forward and back, in and out of his ass. I spoke again, expressing the excitement this was causing for me. "I'm fucking you, Mark. My cock is moving in and out of you, in (I pushed forward a little harder) and out (I pulled back)...fucking you like you fuck me...do you want me to *fuck* you? Do you like it when your wife *fucks* you?" "Yes," he moaned, "fuck me...yessss..." We were both as far into this as we could be, and although I wasn't the one being penetrated I was getting more and more excited, the outside of my vaginal area being stimulated by the rubbing of the harness I wore. I pushed the cock deep into my husband again and kept it there, pushing my pelvis firmly up against his ass so that the harness pushed back against me. I began to move up and down, masturbating myself with the leather patch over my pussy as the cock's movement inside my husband's ass stimulated him. He grunted in a little pain as the cock drove deep inside him, but he was getting close as his hand frantically pumped away at his cock. I grabbed his hips harder with my hands, pulling him back against me as I rubbed myself up against him, and he felt me fucking him and holding him as I fucked him and my thighs were pressed against the back of his thighs as we rocked together and he groaned and shouted "Oh yes fuck me oh I love you fuck me fuckme" and I felt him jerk as he started spurting and I was burning and rubbing and I was cumming at the sound of his voice and I fucked him and came and came and came and came-- I came so hard my arms and legs were twitching afterwards as I subsided. Mark was hanging against the footboard, exhausted and limp, his hand and belly and knees damp with his ejaculate. Wary of hurting more than I had to I put my hand around the base of the latex cock and began to withdraw it slowly, slowly, ever so slowly. It slid out smoothly, still lubricated even after our furious fucking, and with a final careful tug it emerged from Mark's ass, none the worse for wear, and I leaned back. I fetched some tissues and wiped the lubricant around Mark's anus, discovering as I did so a drop of blood; I must have cut him at some point. Worried, I pulled Mark back to me and apologized for hurting him, saying I was sorry for not taking it easier, asking if he was all right. My husband smiled at me, his eyes still half-closed, and caressed my chin with his hand. "That may have been the best orgasm I ever had," he said dreamily, "and I bet it was the noisiest, that's for sure." I laughed, blowing out my breath with a little whoosh. "The last thing I ever wanted to do was hurt you," I said. "This wasn't some kind of S & M thing where I raped you or anything..." He shushed me with a finger on my lips and said "I know. It was that picture, wasn't it? The two blonde kids in that art catalogue? Isn't that what gave you the idea?" Mutely, I nodded. "I liked that picture too. I didn't think much of a lot of the other ones, especially the one with the lady and the horse..." I giggled, remembering Kathy's reaction to that picture. He added, "But your picture..." "Christiaan and Rose," I said. "Yes, Christiaan and Rose. They looked like they really loved each other. And this was a way they....made love to each other." "Yes," I breathed, and I brought my face up close to my husband's. "And we did, too." I leaned forward and reached for his nighttable, snaring the Andres catalogue and yanking it out from under the pile of clothes where he had hidden it. "I saw you looking at it yesterday morning," I said, forcing the words out over my hesitation. "I saw you...pleasure yourself while you looked at the picture, with the cock I bought." He froze up a little beside me. "You were so...beautiful," I went on. "So excited, so aroused...I love it when I can see you like that. And I love it when I can help bring that out of you and give you that much pleasure. I love *you*." He held me tightly against him, and we stayed that way for a while, both of us gazing at nothing. And then both of us looked at each other, and then down at my pelvis, where the latex penis still hung from the straps around my waist and hips. I looked at it fondly. Imagine...so much pleasure given to so many people by this one hunk of rubber and leather. I smiled contentedly and looked at Mark. "Hmmm," he murmured, speculatively. "Chicks with Dicks?" "WHAT?!?" I said, glaring at him. He still had that faraway look on his face. "Oh, you know, "Chicks with Dicks. Like in those porno movies. You know, "Big-Breasted Babes. Video Virgins. Anal Annies. Chicks with Dicks. Like that." He went on, oblivious to the fact that my glare was growing stonier and stonier. "And your *point* is what...?" I queried, and edge to my voice. "Oh, nothing..." he trailed off meekly, looking up at the glint in my eyes. "I see," I said. "So I'm a titillating liitle porn queen freak show to you, am I?" He chuckled, and I attacked him again. "And where do you know so much about Adult Videos, anyway? We've never rented any." He reddened noticeably, and I stared at him. "Well," he said, still red-faced. "I never said you knew *all* of my secrets." "I'll say," I answered. Which ones did you like best?!? Chicks with Dicks? Ohh--I know. I bet it was Chicks with Chicks! Wasn't it?!? Wasn't it??!" I poked him in the ribs with my elbow. "You men...you really Are all perverts!" He gave me a leering grin. "Takes one to know one honey, especially after what you put me through today. Besides, what's wrong with having lesbian fantasies. Haven't you ever...?" Now I was starting to blush myself, my neck prickling as I reddened at the roots. "You know...the softness of another woman's body (my cheeks were reddening faster)...that intimate knowledge of a woman's pleasure (I was flaming now)...that chance to see how much fun it can be to pleasure another woman (I had to shut my eyes, I couldn't look at him). Say! Look at you!!!! Who is it? Who's your fantasy girl??" I was silent as a tomb, which only got him going further. "I know who it is!! I bet it's...no...probably not someone from work...hmm... OH!!!!" I couldn't bear this. "KATHY! That's who!!!" I was going to die. That's it. The bed was going to swallow me up and I was going to die. I had to save face somehow, so I lifted my chin and said defiantly, "you don't know all of my secrets, either!" Mark was laughing at me. After a moment, I was laughing with him. But as the chuckles died away we looked at each other, deep in thought. "So you say there's more going on in that head of yours than we've ever tried before?" he said. "You don't deny it?" "Well," I said, "you don't either." Mark ran two fingers down the curve of my left breast and pinched the nipple between two fingers, over my flimsy bra. "Sounds like a challenge to me," he said. "Is that so?" I said, facetiously. We looked at each other, both of us hatching plans within our evil little minds. Then Mark laughed, and grabbed my waist. "Take that thing off," he ordered. "It's served its purpose tonight, and the night is still young!" "Yes, Master," I said, meekly, and began to wriggle out of the straps in eager anticipation of the lovemaking to come. Even as I melted into his embrace, I did not forget about the plans I began to form that night. As it turned out, neither did my husband. But that is another story, for another time. ______________________________________________________ THE END of "ART APPRECIATION" For more stories, check out Slowhand Luke's website: http://www.superior.net/~poopsie or M!KE HUNT's: http://members.aol.com/mrm1ke -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | \ .../assm/faq.html> /