Art and Artists

Kristi slid into the bed next to me and we embraced. My body tingled from the tactile contact of skin on skin, and my cock seemed to grow an extra inch, if that was possible.

I rolled her onto her back and kissed my way down her neck, down to her breasts, which were standing up in apparent defiance of gravity.

That was the one thing Kristi had over Shirley, her tits, I thought, and I was a little surprised at how dispassionately the thought came to me. Shirley had a great body, trim and compact, but she wasn't well-endowed.

I didn't dwell on it, though, as I set to work munching on Kristi's globes. They were just about perfect, round and plump, but not excessive. I licked and sucked on the stiff brown nipples as I squeezed the swell of her flesh.

I shivered as I heard the guttural groan that was ripped from Kristi's mouth as I suckled her.

"You have a nice tongue," she whispered. "I guess you've figured out by now that my breasts are very sensitive."

"What woman's aren't?" I said. "I've never met a woman yet who did love having their tits played with."

"Yeah, but I'll bet that tongue can do other things," she said with laughter in her voice.

"We'll never know if we don't try," I said, and ran my tongue down her flat stomach, while slipping two fingers in her soupy box. I worked them in a spiraling motion, in and out and back in again as I kissed and licked her abdomen.

Once again, I found myself in thrall to the pretty pussy that was right in front of my nose, which I used to nudge her clit. That sent Kristi's back into an arch of shivering lust, and I pressed my attack with a broad swipe of my tongue over her juicy slot.

I clamped my lips over her flowing hole and drilled my tongue into her hot depths as far as I could go, trying my best to tongue-fuck her

"Aieeeee! God, Stu, keep ... doing that," she gasped as I gave her the best my mouth could offer. "Ummmmmmm! Yeah!"

Kristi's body was writhing on the sheets as I worked my tongue in a figure-eight, over her hole and up to her clit, and I could feel her spasm every time I brushed her hard little nub.

I knew she was getting close from the way her body was moving and the sounds she was making, and I zeroed in on her clit and added two fingers, working them in her hot pussy in time to my tongue.

That did the trick. With a squeal and a gasp, Kristi went stiff, then shuddered as I felt her passion flow from her convulsing cunt, covering my face with her arousal.

"God, Stu, that was wonderful," Kristi said when she managed to catch her breath. "Now it's my turn."

Kristi climbed onto her knees and rolled me onto my back, all in one smooth motion. My iron-hard cock was leaking profusely as she settled in between my widespread legs. She held it up at the base as she blew on it lightly, sending shivers of lust from my head to my toes.

"Jesus, woman, that feels exquisite," I stammered.

She just gave me a wicked grin, with eyes like sparklers.

"You ain't seen nothin' yet," she purred.

With that, she swiped the flat part of her tongue up the underside of my dick, working it like strokes of a paintbrush, carefully laving my rigid flesh. When she had licked her way all around the shaft, she slowly slid her lips over the crown.

Our eyes locked in a lustful stare as she opened her lips and let the head of my cock pass into her mouth. She kept her gaze on me as she fed my meat slowly, ever so slowly past her ruby-covered lips toward her throat.

She got about two-thirds of it in before I felt the head gently nudge the opening to her throat, and that was her signal to start working her mouth on me in earnest.

I groaned in abject surrender as Kristi worked her lips back up until just the tip was in her mouth, then back down again. With each plunge a little bit more entered her throat and she worked a little bit faster.

As she sucked me harder and faster, her hand was steadily working the base of my shaft, regulating the pace and thrust of my cock into her mouth.

I could feel the tingle right at the fulcrum of my legs, that spot every man knows is the core of his sexuality. As much as I wanted to spew a bucket load of cum into Kristi's mouth, I wanted even more to fuck her again.

No, that's not quite right. I wanted to make love with this utterly sensual creature who was giving so much of herself for me.

So I gently pried her mouth from my cock, and was slightly amused at the dazed look on Kristi's face when I did so. She'd been so into it that she'd lost touch a little bit with what was going on around us.

Again, I rolled her onto her back and got up on my knees.

"I want to love you, like you deserve to be loved," I whispered.

"Oh, please, Stu," she pleaded. "I want you. In every way, I want you."

I paused for a moment and swept my gaze on this woman that a lot of men would give their left nut for: the dark hair that fanned across the pillow, the yearning look in her big brown eyes, the fat tits that were heaving with desire and, most of all, the slick red pussy that was spread open waiting for me, and only for me.

I carefully fit the head of my cock to that juicy slot and slid into Kristi's hot depths with a satisfied gasp.

At first, I kept my pace deliberate, working my cock back and forth evenly, while I gathered Kristi in my arms and we kissed, hot and hard.

Every nerve in my body was on high alert from the touch of our sweat-slick skin, every feeling was magnified by the sense of wonder that had enveloped us. We had been dancing around our feelings for each other for weeks, and now we'd taken the plunge.

There was no going back for either of us.

I can't recall now just what we said during those magical moments, but we talked continuously, just passing little endearments and words of pleasure between us as we strained together in our passion.

I couldn't believe how free I felt! It was like I'd been held underwater and had just broken the surface. I was drinking this new life, this new love like a swimmer gulping air.

And, strange as it sounds, I could sense something in the room with us, a vague presence, and I've told myself ever since that it was spirit of Shirley urging me on, pushing me to grab this life, this love, and to quit looking back.

I laughed then, as I suddenly picked up the pace and began driving my cock forcefully in Kristi's pliant pussy. She looked at me strangely, but happily, and worked her hips right in time with me.

I was gasping now, sweating hard as we hurtled toward an explosive finish. Our voices filled the room with the sounds of love as we worked ourselves to a crescendo.

"Come on, baby!" Kristi panted. "Come on, do it! Make ... me ... yours!"

"I ... I .. I'm ..." I gasped, and that was all I could get out.

Just as Kristi's body spasmed into a powerful climax, I let it loose. I lurched forward, shaking in my passion as I surrendered one of the hardest, most intense cumshots I've ever had the pleasure of giving.

It seemed like my whole insides were coming out the end of my dick as I gave Kristi everything I had, and more.

This time, there was no angst, no tears and no deep emotion. We just floated back to earth, our hands touching each other in odd places.

"Can I tell you something?" I said softly as we lay together in the warm glow of sated lust.

"Sure ... As long as it's good," Kristi said, and she laughed that glockenspiel laugh that had so enchanted me early on.

"I love you, Kristi Golden, and I want you to be mine," I said.

Kristi got a serious look on her face as she pulled herself up onto an elbow and looked at me.

"Stu, I can never replace Shirley," she said. "She was your love and your wife, and she gave you three wonderful children. But she's gone and life goes on, and if you're willing to give me even a piece of your heart, I'll take that gladly. You're a fine man, and I love you."

^ ^ ^ ^

A year has come and gone since that pre-dawn New Year's Day, and my life has changed in so many ways I can't begin to count them.

Kristi and I have been together now for the whole time, and our wedding is in a few weeks – on Valentine's Day, of course – and that's a day after my last day of work at the paper.

After 25 years, I'm retiring and devoting myself to my own writing. Paul was good as his word, and after reading the manuscript I sent him, he helped me find a publisher and I got a very nice advance from a Christian-oriented company.

My first book, "Swimming Upstream," is scheduled for release in a few weeks, and advance reviews have been favorable.

I don't plan on limiting myself to religious work, however. I've got some sports fiction, some romantic works, along with the personal essays that I've written.

Kristi cried when she read some of the love letters I'd written to Shirley after her death, and for awhile she was vaguely depressed about it.

"How can I ever match that kind of love?" she asked a few days later.

"Just be yourself," I said patiently. "You said it yourself. You aren't Shirley. You're Kristi, and you're exactly what I need, and want. Trust me, Kristi, Shirley is up there rooting for you. She spent every day of our married life trying to make me happy, and I know she wants me to be happy now that she's gone. I spent too long beating myself up over it, and you know what? It still didn't bring her back. Life goes on, Kristi. I love you, and you make me very happy."

I knew she was over her funk when she presented me with a sketch drawing for my birthday. She somehow caught me in a pensive pose, my gaze looking at infinity. It was striking in the way that she seemed to catch my soul in that look

That told me that I was on her mind, and in her heart.

Shelby, of course, was tickled to death that I'd found someone, especially someone as "cool," as Kristi, as she puts it. She and Thomas have become friends, and I think we'll have no problems when our family becomes blended.

Often, our dates will simply consist of the four of us hanging out together in Kristi's studio. She'll work on something or another, I'll be reading or maybe writing something in a notebook and the kids may be doodling in a corner somewhere or maybe playing a board game.

Sean and Susan are also happy to see me happy, Sean especially, because he's getting to move back into our old house, which I'm letting him rent for a ridiculously low rate.

I'm not quite ready to sell the place that still holds so many memories, good and bad, and I like the idea of keeping it in the family, at least for awhile.

The only fly in the ointment in all of this bliss was Kristi's ex-husband, who made vague noises about contesting the custody arrangement. But the judge very firmly, and very quietly, told Mel he didn't have a chance in hell of ever getting full custody of his son.

I still have trouble believing he thought Kristi was frigid. She shows me all the time just how not frigid she really is.

I think it's the soul of her ethnic background. I learned early that her parents were both originally from Argentina, which explains her slightly exotic looks, and her hot-blooded nature.

Sometimes I have to pinch myself to think that I was able to overcome my grief and land a woman like Kristi.

But art and artists have a way of finding each other, even in the most trying circumstances.