Artist at the Arts Fair

She fell silent. Slowly, I saw her begin to back up again, head hung low. Moving slowly enough to make sure I saw her coming. Something told me to stay put, though. When she bumped into me this time, she didn't bounce off instantly. Or at all. Her sweet little ass, given her height, just rested lightly against the front of my jeans.

My cock, suddenly and belatedly realizing that this was a situation it really ought to be interested in, began to rise to the occasion. Underneath the loose front of my jeans, she had to feel it swelling against her butt.

She still didn't move.

With a sigh, she asked quietly, "Do you seriously think you could make me look half as good as any of these people?"

"No," I said honestly. Her ass stiffened against me, but she still didn't move away. The rest of her just began to sag. "I only sketch people as they are," I went on. "And to make you look only half as good as any of these women, I'd have to ugly you up considerably."

She barked a quick, pained, rasping laugh, but did not move. She might have pressed back microscopically. "Any of the women?" she asked, the first glint of merriment in a while appearing in her voice.

In response, I found myself lightly resting my hands on her small but elegant hips and said quietly, "Yeah... You and all these women are only about half as good-looking as he is."

That got me a genuine laugh, and more to the point, it earned me the feeling of her leaning back more fully against me, leaving my hands happily where they rested. "Oh I see," she said, half-teasing, half despairing. "He's more your style."

"I am an artist," I replied firmly. "I can hardly not notice that every inch of him is as spectacular as his face." I rolled the dice on my next words. "It doesn't mean I want to screw him."

"So you screw you female models?" Ellen asked, her mood improving, but still looking for something to be unhappy about.

"I do not screw my female models... as a rule," I declared.

"As a rule?"

I thought instantly of Sophia a few weeks prior, but I was not telling that story. Instead I hesitated, then just admitted, "Lee, up there on the left." I pointed to the reclining brunette with the largest chest of any of the subjects.

"Oh. So you are a tit man," she nearly accused.

"I am," I said. Then I added, "I love tits. I just don't much care about their size," and as I did so, I slid one hand up the side of her torso, pausing momentarily at the base of her rib cage to detect any resistance. With none forthcoming, I moved it on up to cup one of Ellen's own, petite but hardly absent breasts.

She groaned happily, and I moved up my other hand to further reinforce my own happiness with what I held.

Full confession, I really do love large tits, especially medium-large tits. But smaller tits, especially really good examples like Ellen's, have a firm flexibility that fascinates me in their own fashion.

Ellen groaned more, and I felt her little ass grind slightly against me. "I'm so sorry, but please don't stop," she moaned.

"The only thing you would have to apologize for would be telling me to stop," I found myself saying with complete honesty.

"No... fear of that," she gasped. Her own hands snaked back behind both of us and clenched my ass, pulling me forward, her own ass still pushing herself back against me.

My cock was in no danger of missing out on anything now. I leaned in to nuzzle the softness of her hair where it pulled together in her ponytail.

"Robert?"

"Yes, Ellen?"

"You have got at least let me suck your cock. I haven't touched a man in three years," she gasped. "I haven't come in three years."

Despite my cock's demand that I step back and rip my pants open instantly, I kept my happy hands where they were, exploring and massaging Ellen's chest. I did indulge my cock at least by grinding it against her butt while I asked her incredulously, "You mean you haven't come from a man's touch in three years..."

"I don't," she said, squeezing my ass harder. "I don't get myself off very satisfactorily. I'm a shitty self-lover. A shitty lover overall, I guess."

At least she didn't sag away when spouting that bullshit.

I looked up for a half second, pondering the unrelenting din of the rain drumming on the taught canvas of my and the surrounding tents. Walt could have Kylie bent over that enormous urn of his next door right now and I'd never hear it, despite the fact that I was somehow sure that Kylie was a huge screamer.

That image would have had me lunging out in even this rain just little while ago. Now it just turned me on a bit more. Besides, despite Walt's manifest untrustworthiness around Kylie, I honestly didn't actually see that happening.

What I said was, "Well, with this din, no one would hear us."

"I... you won't regret it," Ellen said desperately, and tried to turn and pull away from me.

I was having none of that. I kept my grip on her, and held her up until she stopped trying to sink down. When she stopped trying to move, I lent down to nuzzle her bare, still damp neck. "I hope this rain lasts long enough to take your offer. I really do. But," I said, sliding to my own knees behind her, keeping her standing, "you need it way more than I do." I gently kissed her suddenly quivering little ass, back and forth on either side. "And I really, really, really want to give it to you."

I had zero idea of who this woman was. I'd talked to her for all of ten minutes in our lives. But I knew she was genuine, for good and bad. And I knew she had been ill-used and needed some reinforcement. And I knew that she was oh so aesthetically appealing. And she was horny.

I knew that she was getting carried away in the moment. I knew that I was selfishly happy to take advantage of the opportunity to make a truly awesome memory. I knew I just had to make sure that she in no way regretted it...

I kept my lips caressing the soft denim over her ass and I let my hands slip down the backs of her thighs, then wrap around their outside until my fingers nestled between them in front. Then I slid my digits upward until they dragged gently along and then up from her crotch. She only groaned quietly, giving herself to my lead, as my fingers tugged open the five buttons of the fly in whatever brand of jeans these were.

They were tight, and I worked to get them off her hips, pulling my lips from her backside long enough for the jeans to pass down below my face before I nestled my lips back again her bare buttocks.

She wore a thong.

But just like the bra I still knew about only through surmise, this was a utilitarian thong (They exist). It was there to prevent the most important of chafing issues with the jeans, while making sure no dreaded panty lines could mar the perfect smoothness of the back of those jeans she had been wearing.

Ellen might have been emotionally down on her appearance, but she sure knew how to make what she had look sensational.

I helped her kick free of her jeans and the espadrilles she wore on her feet, then slid my hands slowly the whole way up the back of her legs, then her ass, before tugging that thong out of the way and down to rest on the damp ground with her jeans. They would get wet, but I was very much counting on all our clothes getting wet before we were done. Regardless, after this deluge no one was going to notice. I had a water-resistant rug laid down in my booth, usually to provide a little cushion for my legs against days on end standing on concrete. Now it critically meant our clothes wouldn't get gravel or asphalt particles on them.

I pressed my cheek against her very different one, and dragged my hands up the front of her legs this time, fingers again between her legs. I let them linger just a bit this time at the top, then ruffle the wonderful fur I felt where those legs met.

"Sorry," Ellen almost moaned. "I haven't a reason to do much housekeeping down there in a long while.

"I. Love. Bush," I growled, grabbing her hips and at last spinning her to face me, burying my face instantly into the glorious mess of delicate pubes. I felt her hands nestle into the hair atop my head.

"You have got to be kidding me," she sighed her hips pressing involuntarily forward.

I only nuzzled harder, and she giggled in acceptance. She didn't need to know that I also loved smooth skin...

We would get wet, but that didn't mean I wasn't interested in hauling her downward so one, the other, or both us got soaked lying on the ground. For the moment, however, I merely lifted one of her delicate legs and rested it on my shoulder, opening her to me.

"Oh God, yes," Ellen gasped. "I can't believe you are going to do this," she squealed. "But I'm little precarious here, can I safely hold on to anything?"

I refused to remove my mouth from where I was tonguing around in her triangle of hair, still away from all the good spots. Instead, I raised a hand and snapped for her attention, then pointed firmly at the closer of the two inch galvanized steel poles, fixed in wide, iron bases, that held up the ends of my little inner back wall.

Then I slid the hand on the side beneath her draped leg up once more to her gates. My tongue could reach no further than her clit in this position, but why would I want it anywhere else? I dragged my fingers along her slit, damp from things other than rain, and as I slipped one inside her, I tongued her bud for the first time.

"Oh fuck," Ellen gasped, and I heard the rod tremble.

I delved deeper with my finger, curling it back toward me, and tickled the ridged area inside her. My tongue flicked relentlessly but gently over her surprisingly prominent bean. Everything else about her was so tiny...

"You are not fair," she wailed quietly, apparently less sure than I about the privacy of noise.

I didn't give a shit about being fair. The woman needed an orgasm or three fast, and she deserved them, and I was gong to give them to her. The fact that once I did, she might get on with giving me that cocksucking that she had evidently been so eager to provide was genuinely incidental.

"Not fair. Not fair. Not fair," she repeated like a breathless mantra. Suddenly she gasped, and her hand on the pole leapt back to cradle the back of my head, words abandoning her. Her squeal rose, and when it crescendoed, I relaxed my movements. She hung there mindlessly before my face, but when she at last relaxed and began to slump, I instantly resumed but my oral and digital stimulation.

Shit, she tasted good.

"Fuck you," she gasped. "You bastard. You absolute cheater! You are too good, Robert. You are unfair. Don't you do... Don't you... Oh fuck! Don't you stop. Don't! Stooooooop!" She shrieked, doubt about sound's travel gone on her part too. Her body bucked harder against my face than even before, until she again froze in climax.

This time, when she regained muscle control, she quickly yanked her leg off my shoulder and stepped back a determined step. "No, no!" Ellen said swiftly. "I can't... It's been too long. I can't take any more of that!"

"Yet?" I asked smugly.

She looked at me in surprise, then grinned. "Okay, yet," she panted. "But right now you just stand up there, and take off your shirt," she ordered staring at me intently.

Why the fuck I would hesitate for a millisecond was beyond me, but hesitate I did, for about three milliseconds, before I peeled my Tommy Hilfiger off over my head. Ellen stepped carefully closer and ran her hands over my chest. I am hardly sculpted granite, but she clearly relished running her hands over what lean musculature I possessed. I am quite strong, I just do not much look it.

She leant in to nuzzle my chest, and her hands tugged at my fly. The second she had the least trouble with my zipper, she abandoned the effort and ran her hands up my back. Still nuzzling me, she ordered, "Drop 'em. Everything." Then she began suck on one of my nipples.

I desperately worked to get my pants and briefs off without dislodging those lips from my practically shrieking nipple.

The instant she sensed my cock bob free, she let go of me with a final kiss. I would have been upset at the loss of the unusual but erotic sensation, except that I had become desperate for her to do just that and move lower instead. And that is what she did.

Now it was Ellen kneeling before me, and she looked up at me with a look of pure intensity in her eyes. Her hand grasped my cock eagerly. I caught her sneak a quick look at the painting of fucking Patrice before she bent her head over my cock.

I felt a pang at that, but I supposed I couldn't blame her. At least I was fully hard as a rock, so size-wise I almost matched up with him in the portrait. No, he was not hard in the portrait, and I had never seen Patrice with a hard-on, thank the lord. The universe is an unfair place when a man with a face like that is also hung like a donkey.

More importantly to me at the moment, the end of my newly-freed erection was sticky from anticipation, and Ellen bent and with a trembling tongue licked me clean. I shuddered in response.

Ellen just groaned and licked her lips. "Fuck I love that taste," she muttered to herself, and engulfed my cock in her mouth, taking a good two inches instantly, sucking hard and circling my intrusion with her tongue.

It was almost immediately clear that this was a woman completely uninterested in going very deep on my cock, which I absolutely did not give a shit about, as she bobbed up and down on me with a ferocious intensity that had my knees weakening already. Her hand squeezed and massaged my shaft as she sucked.

Once or twice, she released my cock from her lips and bent further to lavish long, wet licks over my entire length, pausing after each lick to suck just a little on my tip. After the second such 'furlough' for my imprisoned cock, my dick was soaked as the carpet under us, and she added furious strokes of my shaft to the energetic suckling on my tip.

I had been showering her with praise the whole time, unable to shut up had I wanted to. Now I groaned, "This is crazy. Crazy good. And you've got me ready to come already!"

She popped me free for another good lick, then glared up at me. "Come in my mouth. Come hard. I need a mouthful. I haven't had one so long!"

Her renewed efforts shattered my dam and I almost screamed as I flooded her mouth with just what she had asked for. My back stiffened, and the dull throb of my feet, always an unconscious part of my life after a four day show, morphed weirdly into a fire of pleasure. Emma just sucked harder. She refused to stop until my knees buckled from the ecstatic pain of overstimulation and I almost pushed her away.

I stared down at her and she looked up at me with an almost fey smile of satisfaction. "Good enough for you?" she asked with a fierceness that shocked me. I had wondered how any man could have divorced this lovely creature, telling her she was sub-par in the sex department. But now I had to consider the possibility that he had eventually just fled out of self-preservation...

But the look faded from her eyes swiftly, though she did not rise, staying kneeling before my half-softening dick.

The intensity of the rain hitting my tent slowed audibly all of a sudden, and we both looked upward, only to hear a burst of even higher intensity than had been the average for a while.

Ellen almost flinched at the renewed intensity. Then shook her head, turned as if addressing a third person in the tent, and growled, "Chief Doppler Nine Meteorologist Dirk Tennenbaum, you are so fucking incompetent I could kiss you!"

For my part, I fumbled for my phone, and swiped open my radar app. Unbelievably, the whole screen remained blanketed in the unrelenting dark green of steady, strong rain. I swore as the animation ran and I saw a huge blob of yellow with a red core form and move toward us.

"Fuck! It's going to get harder," I exclaimed, showing it to Ellen. She shook her head, then smiled at me. Her hand reached out to grasp my mostly softened cock and said, "I certainly hope so!"

Her innuendo had me firming up again immediately. The delicate softness of her massaging fingers had nothing to do with it, I'm sure.

I'll admit, I indulged myself just then. I closed my eyes and listened to the thrum of the rain as it pelted the washed out show, the inexplicably perfect rhythm of thousands of random impacts massaged my brain as Ellen massaged my cock.

Suddenly she let me go and stepped out into the larger front of my booth. I blinked, coming out of my sound reverie while my cock suddenly felt unloved. My body was involuntarily drawn in her wake. When she paused in the center of my space, with the three-sided display tower right before her, I stepped up again behind her, as we had started.

Her small, rounded ass immediately resumed teasing my cock, her tight little cheeks brushing to and fro against my sticky, currently barely swollen member.

She grabbed my hands and pulled them around her, placing one on her still clothed breast, while she lifted the other to suck on first one finger, then a second.

I chuckled. "That radar map says we have some bonus time," I murmured, plotting how to get my face between those ridiculously long, slender legs.

"Time to fuck me, I hope," she growled.

Ouch. "I have no condoms, I'm afraid," I said reluctantly. There was little hope this woman had any, and less that she was still putting up with the side-effect of the pill.

"No fear," she said, the sadness returning only in trace amounts. "Nathan was a hard birth. You need not worry about any show souvenirs... If you are good, I am certainly safe."

I was happy that I had gotten a precautionary test after my time with Sophia, and could say honestly, "Well, I don't really know for myself how good I am, but I have gotten some positive reviews..."

She bit my finger. I yelped a little as she spun in my arms. "Fuck you," she giggled.

"Please?" I replied.

In answer, she tugged her top off. Yep, that bra was exactly as I had expected--utilitarian and perfect. She reached behind herself and let slip the hooks. Then she let it slide away.

Her breasts, though yes, modest, were about the most extravagant curves on her delicate physique. Their pert shape naked was almost exactly a match for how they rode with the shirt on. The bra was the sort just to provide support against the added weight of her outer clothes.

We both began to sink down to the carpet, trying to kiss at the same time, which didn't happen that well. "Oh please, Robert," she sighed. "Please tell me you screw as well as you lick."

I really did have a lot of responsibility here...

We came to rest with her beneath me, and I twisted to devour her nipples. They were large and hard. The bra had also disguised that fact. She groaned happily for a brief moment, then grabbed at my dick impatiently. I let her guide it and me over between her legs. She pointed it at her opening and moved as she rubbed me up and down along it. I was groaning too.

Unable to restrain myself, I pressed up and while I found a wellspring of moisture, I had to work to make my way into her depths. She was obviously tight, but I also felt her inner musculature clamping desperately. I could take my time.

Did I want to, though? Hell, no. I wanted to have sex with this oddly gorgeous woman right now, extensively, with no further delay. But I was still fighting the idea that I was taking advantage of her. She was unhappy, and horny, and trapped, if you will, with me here, by the rain.

But that was bullshit. She had seen some naked pics and promptly applied her body against mine like a poultice. Fuck you, but I was not going to feel guilty here. I mean, I still did, I just wasn't going to let it stop me.

She whimpered happily as I began to thrust into her, taking stroke after stroke with smooth, gentle effort. Her arms clenched around my back in much the same, involuntary way her insides clutched at my invading cock. The sodden carpet on which we lay squelched with our synchronized movements, somehow audible through the thunderous drumbeat on the tent above.