Art Lovers

The grand tudor estate of Charles and Marsha Goodwin occupied five and half acres of the exclusive Cliffside Villas on the eastern edge of Heathwood's city limits. Our occasion for donning black tie and cocktail dress was to celebrate the acquisition of a recently discovered Vermeer for the Heathwood Art Museum, of which the esteemed Mr. Goodwin held the post of Director. The party also offered an opportunity for major museum donors to meet one another and stare slack-jawed at the impressive private collection on display throughout the house.

My wife Wendy dressed in the traditional black cocktail dress women wear when they are uncertain how a different color will go over. This particular dress broke with tradition by sliding around her body as if it alone was trying to dance the twist while she more demurely gyrated her hips and breasts in that uniquely and uncontrollably feminine way of walking in three inch heels. A single strand of akoya pearls expressed her exquisite taste and appreciation of natural beauty while avoiding the sins of fabulously expensive and nauseatingly inappropriate jewelry. The pearls were of dazzling whiteness with a rose undertone that complemented her long wavy dark brown hair. Her hair shared a joke with her pearls by also hiding an elusive red undertone among its tresses.

"Oh, I see Penelope, off I go. Find me if you need something, otherwise mingle. I know you hate these things. Just think of it as a chance to find things to complain about for the rest of the weekend," she said before cutting a path through the crowd.

"I'm not that bad, am I?" I asked during her departure. She cast a knowing glance with a crooked grin over her shoulder and winked her playful little wink. She silently mouthed, "I like it when you're bad" then cut into the deep throng of guests to make her way to Penelope. I was still watching her through the jungle of bodies when I felt a set of fingers run across my stomach.

When I turned to look, I saw those fingers attached to a body that was trying very hard to burst from a practically sheer evening gown. Her gown sparkled with gold flecks barely concealing her intimate features through a stretchy fabric colored somewhere between nude and sunshine. The voluptuous curves of her flesh pushed against the seams of the flimsy tissue of a dress. Atop that body was the golden mane and canary-eating smile of an heiress who had grown so accustomed to getting what she wanted, that social convention escaped her long ago.

"I'm Marsha, your hostess, and who might you be?"

"Hanson Halifax, but unless you like formality as much as my parents, you can call me what everybody else does, Hand."

"Hand? Why Hand, I wonder. Are there special tricks you do with your hands that a girl might like?"

"It's a nickname. I picked it up in college, but mostly I just tell people it is short for Hanson. There is nothing special about my hands." Marsha grasped one of my hands between hers and examined it, palm and back.

"Well, they aren't unusually big, which was my first guess" she said with a smile after glancing down to my belt. "But, they are well manicured, strong and flexible. Are you sure you don't want to tell me the whole story?"

"It's not something that can be explained. So how many people are invited?"

"It isn't so much how many as whom. Most of our guests seem to be dried up old bitties, harbor seals floating in from suburbia, or pudgy accountants who think of depreciation tables and estate taxes when it comes to art. Are you an artist?"

"If I were, I wouldn't be here because I wouldn't have the money to be a major donor to the museum. Actually, I'm an architect, which means I'm half doodler and half salesman. What do you do?"

"I own a formal dress shop downtown, not for the money, just something to do. It drives me a little crazy sometimes though; helping half-naked women into and out of dresses all day long. Sometimes I help them tape their breasts for strapless numbers, you know, for cleavage. It never fails to amaze me how important a little bit of skin is. Do you ever feel like a little piece of skin is very important?"

"It depends on the owner and location I suppose."

"Sensible answer. Are you always so sensible or do you think I could convince you to take a trip outside ho-humsville for an hour?"

"Ho-humsville, is that near Gateway Park?"

"Naughty me, my mind just slipped to somewhere else as if you had just asked me to park near a gateway, like I'm your schoolgirl sweetheart and you want to take advantage of me in some secluded spot. Maybe you would convince me to get in the backseat and then you would convince me to let you do something small, but clever? Eventually you would convince me to do all sorts of things. But, what am I thinking? That isn't what you asked at all! My mind goes on these erotic errands right out of the blue sometimes. Does yours?"

"I think it's on one right now."

"Oh, how delightful. It reminds me of daydreaming in my shop. Sometimes groups of girls come in with a bride-to-be looking for bridesmaid's dresses. I can end up with five or six girls in thongs or panties or damn near nothing at all slipping into one dress after another. It's enough to make me want to spend my lunch with a vibrator. Knowing how uninhibited they are in my store, I sometimes picture what those girls must do at the bachelorette party. The gag gifts alone must be something to behold, don't you think? Don't you also think, Hand, that we can make my party more fun than my lunch break at work?"

"Do you have something special planned for later?"

"Do I? Hmmm..." she trailed off. "Have you noticed that how much fun you have often depends on others?" She paused to let her eyes delve into mine. The almost constant swinging of her flirty little body stopped. "Would you like to join me for a dip in the hot tub after dinner?"

"That will depend on my wife."

"Don't worry" she said as she brought her hand up behind my ear and feathered her fingers through my hair. Pressing her warm body against mine, I felt her breath, a gentle breeze of late summer, blow across my neck as she whispered in my ear, "she can come too."

My penis inflated with astonishing speed. Rather than embarrassing myself with a full grown branch in the middle of the main ballroom floor, I changed the subject by clearing my throat and asking, "Where's your husband? I'd like to thank him for inviting us here tonight."

Marsha stepped back and twirled around on one heel like little girls do when they pretend to be ballerinas. "A ha! There he is over by the bar with his friend Ben flirting with those two girls" she announced while pointing across the room. I followed the line of sight from her extended arm and saw the backsides of Charles and Ben along with Wendy and Penelope who were laughing and pushing at the men at every opportunity to touch them.

Watching her from a distance reminded me of how much I enjoyed looking at her. I could sit entranced for hours watching her do anything at all; grouting a tub, separating laundry, reading a newspaper. Her presence always absorbed all my senses from the perfumes she hid among her curves, the flowery aroma in her hair, the softness of her skin, and silkiness of her clothes, to the lilting aria of her speech.

Penelope contrasted sharply with Wendy. While Wendy presented an elegant and sophisticated image draped in black with modest jewelry, Penelope bedazzled onlookers with brilliant bursts of red, fiery diamonds shimmering about her fingers and neck, and her skirt parted the full length of her leg leaving only guesses about the cut or even existence of panties. She wore dangling earrings off her slim lobes beneath platinum blonde hair that she wore up in a fantastic display of the skill of her hair stylist. I had to admit the emerald green of her eyes magically complemented her attire.

Charles waved about his champagne flute with the easy charm of that most rare specimen among men who are comfortable enough to golf, dance, and probably nap while wearing a tuxedo. His deep tan from sun that also bleached his hair to a light brown added a weather worn ruggedness to his face not usually seen among men of leisure. The forty something years of his life had been good to him, though he had been good to himself.

His slender frame looked like it could be broken in half by the linebacker build of his friend. Ben was young, perhaps twenty-six or twenty-eight. His black hair and fair skin had seen little of the sun Charles seemed to worship. He looked desperate to shed his tuxedo, like most men, but also appeared mature enough to stand in discomfort for hours, if it was socially expected of him.

"Would you like a tour of the house Hand?" Marsha asked as she gingerly grasped my fingers. I agreed and she proceeded to show me a varied collection of art they had accumulated through years of auctions. Their collection included many genres from photography and Realists to sculpture and Surrealists. Their home too was most impressive. After wandering through its many rooms and alcoves, she brought me to a set of double doors.

"This is where the party ends, for this is the south wing and home to our private rooms. We don't let the regular partygoers investigate where we spend most of our time." She led me through the double doors and down a long hall to the billiards room. She closed the doors behind us and turned on a dim overhead light. The walls held many bookcases filled with old editions. A large mirror occupied one wall while a mosaic filled the opposing wall. In the middle of the room rested the requisite pool table. She wandered over to the mirror to adjust her hair.

"Do you play pool?"

"No, not really. Charles sometimes entertains in here, but this room is more a repository for our book collection than an actively used game room. What do you think this is?" she asked as she looked closely at a spot on the mirror. I walked up and stood behind her, unavoidably drawing in her sweet scent. I couldn't see any smudge or flaw in the mirror.

"I don't see anything."

"Maybe this will help." She reached over to the edge of the mirror and turned off the light switch. It was a trick mirror. We could see through it to a bedroom. While my eyes adjusted to the lighting, Marsha unhooked the neck strap of her dress and let it fall to the floor. She wore no panties or bra, just a few token pieces of jewelry. She pressed her ass against me, urging my growing penis into her.

When I looked through the mirror, I once again saw Charles' backside, but this time in its natural state as his buttocks swung forward with each thrust into Wendy. He held Wendy's naked hips while he fucked her on all fours like an animal. Penelope laid next to them on her back with her legs slung around each of Ben's arms who pounded into her from above. Wendy and I had discussed her being with another man while I watched before, but now that I witnessed it, I didn't know what to do. Her almost angelic beauty still enraptured me. There were few things in life as wonderful as watching her cum.

"What...I...but, how?" I stammered.

"We saw you two before, at the museum and hatched a little plan. Do you like it?" Her hands rubbed my crotch as she slid up and down me slowly.

"I don't know what to think."

"Then don't. Just enjoy me."

Marsha guided me over to the pool table and hoisted herself onto it. She positioned herself so her head fell over the side of the table allowing her to see the action in the next room.

"Give me your hand." I reached out to her and she took my hand forcing it to her pussy. "Give me your hand, I said." I got up on the table and inserted a finger into her. Her warmth and wetness invited further exploration.

I looked up in time to see Ben cum while Penelope savored the pressure within her. He backed away from Penelope and began to remove the cum filled condom from his penis. She laid helplessly panting while exposing the blossom of her delectable pussy between her outstretched legs. Her breasts rose and fell above her flat muscular abdomen with each passing breath.

Wendy started to alternately arch and flex her back in the familiar movement of her whole body orgasms. That was sufficient stimulus for Charles to unloaded into her. I could discern Charles' spent member was entombed in a shroud of latex. Wendy rolled over next to Penelope where they held hands and smiled to one another.

Charles said something to them, but all I could hear were the moans of Marsha below me as I continued to push additional fingers into her. Penelope and Wendy responded. Charles made an additional comment through an enthusiastic smile before heading to the night stand.

"Do you think Wendy would like to fuck me or does she prefer to be fucked?" I couldn't think of an answer. I had four fingers easing their way in and out of Marsha. She spread her arms out and shoved her hands into the two corner pockets of the table. Her legs wrapped around me as she said, "keep pushing into me. I want to feel all of you in me."

My penis tingled. I wanted to pull it out and cum all over her, but I needed one hand to support my weight and my other hand was deep inside Marsha. I looked up to see Penelope unclasping Wendy's pearl necklace. She held it by the end and allowed it to snake down Wendy's front until it fell between her legs. Then she grabbed it by both ends and drew the necklace up and down against Wendy's delicate parts.

Next I saw Charles remove a dildo and wand style vibrator from the night stand while Penelope played with Wendy. He tossed the vibrator on the bed and plugged it into a convenient outlet. As a final gesture, he offered them a small bottle.

Penelope replaced the necklace around Wendy's neck before Wendy took the bottle and coated the dildo with its liquid contents. She proceeded to rub the dildo with her hand covering it with lubricant. I almost came as I watched Wendy insert the dildo into her friend. Charles and Ben each sat down in their own chairs ready to witness the erotic display of my wife and Penelope performing for them.

I continued to push my fingers deeper into Marsha while I watched my wife slowly fuck Penelope with the dildo and kiss her way up Penelope's stomach. Wendy's mouth sucked Penelope's nipple while her tongue made several laps around its base.

Wendy descended to Penelope's pussy and licked in unpredictable paths around the plunging dildo. She pleased her friend for several minutes with simultaneous fucking and licking. I mimicked Wendy by dropping to Marsha's pussy and licking around my hand. Marsha came with a drizzle of cum running between my fingers. I twisted my hand with the extra lubricant and eased my knuckles past her opening like a woman putting on solid bracelet until my hand massively filled her. She came again instantly from the tremendous penetration. I could feel every muscle inside her squeeze my hand with each passing wave of orgasm. Having pushed my hand into several women before, I was amazed at how quickly Marsha took to it. I imagined her screwing men of different sizes, sometimes more than one at the same time. She must have enjoyed a lot of sex, forceful sex with large cocks to so well prepare her for this moment.

My eyes returned to Wendy in time to see the so far unused vibrator in Wendy's hand at the front of Penelope's opening. Wendy repositioned herself so that the two girls met crotch to crotch with intertwined legs. When she turned on the vibrator, both girls jumped at the force of its pulsating. Wendy pushed the dildo deep into Penelope using her own body until both their clits met the rumbling head of the vibrator. Their bodies wiggled and rode each other while the hand held tool worked its magic. Penelope came first, followed by Wendy, then another round for both of them.

"Cum on me Hand." Marsha demanded. I carefully removed my hand from her and pulled off my pants. She grabbed my penis with both hands and pumped.

My wife moved away from Penelope still holding the vibrator against the base of the dildo. She turned around and straddled Penelope who happily obliged her with ready tongue and lips. Wendy rolled the vibrator around Penelope while rolling her own hips around Penelope's face. Ben suddenly got up and approached the bed.

Ben slipped on another condom and offered it to Wendy. Without so much as looking at him she opened her mouth to accept him. Charles followed suit by covering himself with another condom and moving in behind Wendy. Penelope dropped her head back on the mattress giving Charles the room he needed to shove his manhood back into Wendy. The two men fucked Wendy at both ends while Penelope continued to cum from the constant attention of the vibrator on her clitoris. Wendy wasn't capable of concentrating on Ben's dick, but Charles screwed with such reckless abandon that he came almost immediately. When Charles backed away, Wendy discarded the vibrator allowing Penelope the chance to recover. Ben, still determined to cum, flipped Wendy over and pressed one of her legs against his shoulder. He entered her with her legs split apart like opened scissors.

"Do you want to fuck me the way he is fucking your wife?"

"I want to fuck you my own way. I want to fuck you while you go down on Wendy."

"You have to cum on me first." I couldn't hold on any longer and came on her breasts and across her belly. She massaged the sticky gel into her skin.

Charles and Penelope dressed while Ben finished. He kept fucking Wendy until Charles and Penelope were completely dressed. Charles left the room. Marsha and I began dressing to make our reappearance.

I watched Wendy reach down and feel Ben's hairy muscular chest. Her fingers caressed his pubic hair. She smiled at him, pleasing herself with the feel of her lover as he thrusted. In an inspired moment, Penelope grabbed the vibrator, turned it on, and held it to Wendy's pussy. Both Wendy and Ben felt it hit them like a rock. Wendy came again, red-faced, practically hyperventilating, until Ben unleashed himself.

Marsha slid her dress back on and headed for the door. "Are you ready?"

"Do I look like I just came on the hostess?"

"You look like you'd like to again" she said with a giggle. We ventured out into the hall and touched up each other's appearance as if we were a freshly groomed couple primping one another before a night out on the town. As we finished, Wendy and Ben entered the hall from the bedroom door.

Wendy saw me in the hall with Marsha and made her way down to me. Marsha distanced herself from me briefly so I could speak with Wendy. When Wendy reached me she furtively spoke in a hushed tone, "I've got to tell you something."

"Yes?" I asked innocently.

"First of all, you know how much I love you."

"More than any one man deserves."

"I hope you won't be angry and if you are that you'll be able to forgive me. It's not love or some serious affair or anything, but I just had a fling. It was safe and lovely. I wish you could have been there. I wanted you there."

"I was. I saw the whole thing through a fake mirror."

"You saw us!"

"Yes, and as long as we are confessing, I was just playing around with Marsha, the woman you just saw me with." We were always honest with one another. We did not have to tell each other, we wanted to. Most people would have said nothing, but we told each other everything and that is what made us different.

I took up both her hands and shared a moment in her eyes. "I love you without limitation, without owning you, and without controlling you. I enjoy watching you have pleasure as much as you enjoy receiving it. I ask only to share it with you. That you promise to make each new experience something we share, so we will always grow together and never apart. In return, I promise the same to you."