Art is So Subjective

"I'm going to dry you off now," I heard Kyle say, before I felt a towel rub harshly against me. I could have sworn I also felt my nipples touch skin, perhaps Rita's breasts, aimed directed at my own? I wasn't sure, but it felt good.

"Hey, is that you?" I heard Rita yell.

"Not so loud," said Kyle. "People are already beginning the tour. Yes, your tits kind of touch. Miss Amanda's stick out like goddamn rockets."

"It doesn't help that the hole is so small," I objected.

"Squeezed like that, it makes them even longer, and pointier than normal," chided Kyle. "Don't move around too much. You're almost touching... uh... what is your name again?"

"Rita!" I heard my colleague shout.

"Yeah, there's less than two foot of space between you two, so you girls be careful and stay in place, no matter what!"

Easy for him to say, I thought. We didn't see it, but we could hear Kyle duck under our breasts, as he made his way out of the exit. He didn't even say goodbye. Finally, I heard Rita call out, "You gonna be okay over there?"

I was surprised by the small talk, and replied, "I think so. You?"

"Yeah. Isn't this exciting?"

"Are you nuts?" I laughed. "It's embarrassing."

"Oh, come on. What's embarrassing about it? No one even knows who you are. People will forget this a year from now. Live in the moment!"

It was kind of shocking to get life advice from Rita, but she was making sense. Considering I had no option, I should have as positive an outlook on it as possible, but it still seemed so degrading in some way. "I don't know. I don't think you and I are made of the same..."

"Of course we are. We all are. People should have fun, Amanda. Just loosen up, you're always so uptight. This will be our little secret."

"And Patrick Hennegy's and Winston Danley... they know. And they are bound to see us, Rita."

"So what?" she scoffed back. "Just let it go. Hey, we better shut up, before someone comes by."

"I think you're right," I said. I thought I could hear some people echoing through the halls.

I stood quietly in that narrow space for at least ten solid minutes, thinking the first patron was bound to drop in any moment, when all of a sudden the panel door opened, and I saw Kyle wiggling through. He popped up next to me, squeezed tightly in the narrow chamber.

"Dropping something off for you."

My tits were pushed through the other side of the wall, but Kyle saw my ass clearly. It wasn't exactly comfortable. "What? What are you doing?" I asked.

Kyle held up a nine-inch tabloid. On the screen was video streaming of the view in the hall. I could clearly see my huge tits, bolting out of the holes on one side, while Rita's poured out the other. My nipples were centimeters from touching Rita's breasts, just above her own nipples.

"What the fuck? A camera?"

"Yes, it's been painted to blend in to the walls and is very small, invisible to the eye. I'll be leaving this for you. It mounts right here." Kyle quickly snapped the tabloid in a fitted slot I only now noticed on the wall. It swung towards me, giving me a clear view of what the camera was capturing.

"Why are you doing this? Are you recording this?"

"Just watch the show!" retorted Kyle, knowing I was stuck.

Before I could protest more, he popped down and crawled back through the access panel, closing it behind him. I briefly heard Rita say words as well. Apparently, she was getting one, too. Just as I heard them quiet down, I heard a voice. it was faint, kind of far away, but close enough.

"Oh wow, look at that!" said the voice.

The screen in front of me displayed two images now, as a smaller one popped into view. The main live video feed showed our breasts, covering about half the screen, yet I could also see clearly down the hall. Right now, there were two men coming into view, one behind the other. On the top right corner of the screen was the smaller embedded video. It showed Rita, mirroring what I was doing, looking at live events on the screen, while positioned behind the wall. Our eyes popped open wide as we realized we both could see each other, as well as the men approaching. The high definition details made everything so clear, even on the small screen.

Rita and I shared glances, almost able to communicate through expression alone. She was obviously as surprised as me by this change of events. I caught her eyes bulge wider, just as I caught sight of the two men get close.

It was utterly strange that I was watching a live feed of my tits being pulled through a hole in a wall. It was stranger to see the reactions of these men who approached them. They were wearing dark suits, looking respectable and professional on the surface, but they were both pointing at our tits, and openly gawking at them, making gestures among themselves. They had no idea they were being filmed. They whispered to each other, but it was easy enough to make out what they said. "I think I found my favorite part of the ride," said the taller man.

The first one got closer, not a foot from our tits. I could see his eyes, blue and wide open. He didn't even blink. I felt a dampness suddenly. It caught me by surprise. Seeing someone sexualize me, in such ways, would normally turn me off. For whatever reason, being protected behind this wall, and to be objectified just for the sake of it, was kind of exciting. Both guys were giggling and awestruck. They continually checked behind them to make sure no other patrons witnessed their lewd actions and gestures.

Rita looked into the camera as if to say, "Are you seeing this?"

I was nodding, agreeing with her, but then I felt my body twinge, an involuntary shake. It sent a ripple through my breasts, and on the screen I witnessed my nipples brush against Rita's skin. Instantly, they got harder. The men smiled even wider and finally, one of them said, "Well, uh, how do we get through here?"

"Door's right there, my man," said the other, pointing, his finger just inches away from my left breast. I saw everything so clearly on the screen. Then, he reached under my tits and lifted them up, as he knelt below them. He had his groping hands on both mine and Rita's tits, as he over-exaggerated the effort it took to pass under them. I almost screamed, before remembering to keep my cool. I glanced at Rita on the screen. She was biting her lower lip and her eyes were closed. Really? She liked this?

When Rita finally opened her eyes, she caught me staring at her and blushed. This time, finally, she was the embarrassed one. But then she seemed to regain her composure. She smiled and mouthed, "This is fun."

More and more people began to pour in and since most were in groups, many of them feigned more instant in the distortion of the room, rather than the obvious elephants in them.

"Oh, this is interesting," some would say. Another, "Wow, you can't see where the floor ends and the walls begin... or even the ceilings... just those... uh... down there."

"This is insane," said one woman. "I have to keep my eyes on the boobs just to make my way down a straight line."

The younger guys tended to stay more quiet, strolling nervously closer to our breasts. If I looked hard enough at the screen, I could sometimes make out bulges in some of the guest's pants.

Almost everyone ducked under our breasts, but some got more handsy, like the first two that came through. One man tried to slide through, before discovering that was impossible, but not before rubbing all over my tits and Rita's. It was clear to me he was abusing his stay.

And I loved it. I couldn't believe so many people had ogled at my breasts. By the time the patrons had made their way through all those halls and rooms of tits and ass, they were no longer shocked by seeing them. Instead, they were more confident and brazen, taking long stares, some pulling out their phones to take pictures. None of them seemed to know they were being filmed, though.

Juices ran down my left, inner thigh. I was hornier than I'd been in months, maybe my entire life. Now, I was biting my lip, and I noticed Rita squirming in the monitor, perhaps more aroused than me. I shook my hips, squeezing, impromptu kegel exercises, and I felt my clitoris tingling.

It was an hour and a half into the exhibition when I had my first orgasm. At least forty patrons had come and gone. I was pretty sure Rita had already cum twice, and watching her on that screen only got me hotter. Not to mention, all the people ogling and touching us. Rita looked directly into the camera now, as if pleading for help. I mouthed, "Hang on," and that's when I came.

Juices squirted out forcefully, hitting the floor beneath. I bore down on the handles, while sweating from my brow, as I climaxed a second time. I let my body shake, succumbing to the pleasure. My hard nipples rubbed up and down against Rita's breasts, on the opposite side of me. Locked in place, we had to endure the experience.

But then I heard it. That voice. My brother's distinctly loud and deep voice. "My lord, what do we have here."

Instantly, my eyes shot to the screen, focusing. He had come to the museum by himself, but there were people in his group now, lined up behind him. Quinton tended to draw attention to himself. He turned to the woman directly behind him and said, "You gotta give the artist some credit. I think this whole piece represents something obvious, but very perceptive."

"Oh, what's that?" asked the woman, gleefully eager to hear my brother's critique.

"That we, as people, are bombarded my sex... in advertising, fashion, sports, consumerism, everything. We become numb to it. And yet, at the end of the day, it's what drives us."

As he spoke, he walked towards us - or rather, our tits - and continued his assessment of Patrick Hennegy's work. "It's rather fascinating, isn't it? To put a message in such a form like this?"

Now, my brother stood not a foot away from my tits, looking right at them. I saw everything so clearly. I briefly glanced at Rita who had her eyes on the main screen, watching my brother. It would have been less embarrassing if she didn't know who he was, and how he is related to me. I stood in horror as I watched my brother reach out with both hands. He gently grabbed, and lightly pinched, the two closest nipples to him, the one on my left and the one on Rita's right. This time, Rita looked into the camera and opened her mouth aghast. She couldn't believe it, any more than I could.

"They do have amazing breasts," said the woman behind my brother.

Quinton turned to her. "I'm not sure it matters what the breasts look like, but yeah, smart choice putting these at the end, I guess." He turned back, gawking over our tits and pinched them again. More juices rushed down my leg.

I don't know whether it was the taboo nature that got me hornier, or just a culmination of being exposed to this whole weird experiment for so long, but watching my brother squeeze my nipples between his fingers soaked me entirely. I came again, this time harder than the first two times. To think, I'd never cum before without stimulating my clitoris, but I was so intensely horny, I had no problems achieving climax now.

Finally, my brother and his entourage ducked under our breasts, a handful of them reaching out to touch our flesh as they passed. I was almost ready to close my eyes and just let the remaining guests pass through, when I caught sight of Guy Loudon, the mayor. His wife was in front of him as they approached in the narrow hall. They stood close though, sharing as much space as possible.

"I don't think I'll ever understand art," he said.

His wife giggled and whispered back, "Does it matter? I'm pretty sure you enjoyed this, whether you understand it or not." Then she poked him in his side. Apparently, they had a genuinely good relationship.

If things went as planned, I knew I would be shaking hands with the mayor within the hour, after we closed the exhibition. It was surreal watching him ogle my breasts in the meanwhile. Would he ever suspect he'd seen and touched my flesh?

I struggled, but managed to refrain from cumming again, just as the final guests passed through, including Patrick, Winston and other members of the board. I watched Winston closely. On at least two occasions, I caught him looking in the direction of the hidden webcam and smiling. He knew we were being tormented... toyed with.

It was almost 10:30 p.m. when lights went up in the building, and I heard voices calling, "That's a wrap! Everyone can come out and we'll bring your clothes to you.

I would have darted out there, but that was impossible. It took strength, diligence and patience to wrestle my breasts out of the opening. There was a pinkish ring where the flesh had met at the walls, but otherwise they looked fine. My nipples were raging hard, though.

I squeezed around the grip handle and pushed myself through the access panel. Just as I was getting up, the worst thing imaginable happened. My brother rushed towards me.

"Holy cow, it was you!" he screamed. My face went instantly red. "Amanda, I had no idea you were so brave. Your boss let me come back to the exhibit to find you. I wanted to congratulate you two on such an awesome job well done tonight."

Rita had also managed to come through her side of the exit, and now stood as naked as me in front of my brother. "That is so nice of you to say, Mr. Stanwyk!" she said, hopping on her toes. Her tits didn't look quite as beaten as mine from the experience, probably because mine had been positioned slightly above hers, and got more attention. It now dawned on me that all that video footage was likely saved somewhere.

Quinton started laughing and said, "Oh, man, I bet you were really hoping I hadn't seen that."

My brother knew me well enough. "Well, no, it's not the first thing I would want," I giggled back.

Rita stepped forward. "Mr. Stanwyk, I just wanted to say, I am such a huge fan of yours. When I heard Amanda was your sister, I got so... well... jealous, I guess. To be so close to genius all the time."

Wow, she was pouring it on, I thought, and my brother agreed. "Oh, please. I appreciate the flattery, but no need to go that far. You did a tremendous job yourself tonight. For both of you to go through that. You'll have to tell me about the experience."

If Patrick had his way, Quinton would likely be able to see it for himself, as Rita's and my actions were clearly recorded. I'm sure the focus of the cameras on us, was far more the "performance art" of it, than the patron's perspectives. Really, when I thought about it, this was perhaps the most genius performance art piece Patrick Hennegy had ever created. It was a study in humanity, really.

"I'd love to tell you all about it," said Rita. "If that would be okay with your sister?"

I wasn't offended. I was amused. "Rita, my brother is free to-"

Quinton interrupted, "I intended to stay at my sister's place tonight and catch up, but maybe another time."

"It's okay. She can come over," I said. "I'd like to talk about it, too."

"Really?" Rita gleamed.

"Of course, if my brother doesn't mind."

"Not at all," he said.

Finally, our clothes arrived, sent by one of Kyle's messenger boys, and Rita and I got dressed, joining the rest of the crowd in the foyer. Sure enough, the mayor and his wife were still present.

"I just wanted to say you've been doing a fine job this last year," said Mr. Loudon, as he shook my hand. "We've been hearing so much from the public and the amount of tourism you draw..."

Funny, how I had only just heard the mayor admit he didn't understand art moments ago. I accepted the compliment and smiled. It was empowering knowing he'd seen me exposed, and yet didn't know it. Well, that is, unless he sees the video footage of my face. I had to find out what Patrick intended to do with it. Unfortunately, I hadn't the time to track him down, before he left, but I did manage to find Winston.

"You didn't tell me there would be cameras," I said.

My boss shrugged. "I was told not to. Bring it up with Patrick."

"I will."

"He won't be back until Monday, to start breaking down."

"What's he going to do with that footage?"

"He'll let you know when he finishes the project."

"Finishes?" I wanted to argue more, but knew it would be hopeless. My boss wasn't listening to me.

"Again, go to him, not me," he said. "I'm going home."

I scoffed and turned, grabbing my brother and Rita in tow. It was midnight by the time the three of us made it back to my apartment, but we were still energized from the experience.

"How did you end up doing that?" Quinton asked me. "I know that isn't something you typically volunteer for. Was it a dare? A lot of money? What?"

I quickly ran down the sequence of events, and my brother found it hilarious how I had legitimately been put into such a predicament. "Well, you two are good sports. Congrats to pulling it off."

"Amanda, you have to tell him," said Rita, looking to me.

I wasn't sure what she was getting at, and asked as much.

"What happened to us behind those walls." She quickly turned to my brother. "It's hard to explain, but we both had orgasms back there. And they filmed it!"

My brother's eyes popped and he stood silent, pausing. "Fucking brilliant," he finally whispered.

I wanted to bop Rita on the head. "Really? Did you have to tell him?"

"Well, they did film it. I just think..."

"Oh, now it isn't such a great idea, is it?" I asked, putting my fists to my hips. It was then I felt a slight pinch to my chest, and I winced. "Oooh," I said.

"What's that?" asked my brother.

"My bra," I responded. "After squeezing my fucking tits through that opening all night, they're kind of sensitive, and the bra rubs up against the skin."

"Yeah, me, too," said Amanda.

Of course, my brother laughed again at our predicament. "Well, you can probably guess, I don't care."

"That's not nice to say," said Rita.

"He means he doesn't care if we take off our bras, Rita. My brother, even growing up, always had a thing for big boobs."

"Likely due to growing up with you and mom," retorted Quinton.

Before Quinton was a successful artist, he was a pervy guy just like any other. I caught him peeking at my bras every now and then, especially throughout college, when we shared an apartment together.

"Well, if you don't mind, I'm doing it," said Rita, who instantly reached under her shirt to unsnap her bra. Instead of unraveling it out of her shirt, she just lifted everything off in one motion, leaving her breasts fully exposed.

"Jesus, Rita, you didn't have to go there," I exclaimed.

She winked at me. "Why not? Sure feels better."

I glanced at my brother, who tilted his eyed, raising a brow. "Interesting friend you got there."

I took a deep breath. I knew where this was going. On any other day, it would have been easy to resist, but after having been fawned over, objectified, and fondled, I wanted more. I stripped myself. Of everything.

Rita followed and we approached my brother. I pulled his left hand to me, placing it firmly on my right breast. Rita bent down, tackling his belt and pants.

"You're crazy," Quinton whispered.

"I know. Please... just go with it. This one time."

Rita laughed, but tried to hold back. She slid his pants down, removing them, coming back up to a large bulge in his tight briefs. "Wow, Amanda. Your brother has a nice package."

"Unwrap it," I said. "And give it to me."

I pulled down from my brother, kneeling beside my colleague. Our breasts hung similarly in this position as Rita took Quinton's shaft in her hand, and pointed it toward me. I opened, taking it in my mouth, my tongue wet... willing.

"Save some for me," said Rita. "He can cum in your mouth after he fucks me."

I was surprised she was taking the initiative, but I nodded as I continued to pump my brother's cock back and forth across my tongue. A minute or more passed, before I let go, giving Rita her share. She went after it faster, striving to get it harder. Suddenly, she jumped up and bent over. "In me," she shouted. "Now!"