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Out of the shower, they dress and got ready for the exhibition of her work in the gallery. She dressed in a black dress, loosely form fitting, bare shoulders, and had a slit up her thigh. Her hair tied back, and a necklace that brought out her eyes lay right on her chest. She was gorgeous. Chris, dressed more conservatively, wore a navy blue shirt, black slacks, and leather jacket. His hair was slicked back, and his silver necklace brought his emerald eyes. They left the apartment, and clambered into her car. Driving all the way back to the Harbor, they made small talk to ease the stress that was about to embark on her mind. Arriving at the gallery, they made their grand entrance, capturing the eyes of the crowd. Low murmurs spread around the room, and Monica's body trembled slightly. He stopped her, whispered some comforting words into her ear, and they set off with a new determination.
Making their way around the room, Chris marveled at her work. It was most inspiring and showed a sense of depth. Occasionally he would be interrupted by an introduction to her agent, or another one of her friends, but as they made their way around the room, he gazed into a painting that resembled himself quite strongly. He scrutinized the well-cut figure, leaning upon a mop gazing dreamily into the sea. She followed his stare, and whispered into his ear,
"I hope you like it. I painted it when you sent me your picture. I just couldn't stop thinking about you, so I visualized you in Guam looking into the ocean. Thinking of me." She blushed slightly, embarrassed by her obsession with him. He nuzzled her ear reassuringly, whispering,
"It's exquisite, as well as all your other paintings. You needn't be ashamed of your work." He smiled at her, and her at him. He gave a small kiss, and secured his arm around her waist, silently promising to protect her.
As the day turned into night, and the exhibition almost over, she led him into a narrow hallway, and kissed him passionately. His arms wrapped around her body, his hand creeps up into her dress and caresses her pussy and ass. She lingers for a moment before she pulls away quickly, and scolds him gently.
"Not now, later when we get home. Tonight is important, and I don't want to be discovered." His hands reach for her, and nods in understanding. She kisses him again, and leads him back out to the crowd.
At dinner, in Chez La Fleur, they sit in a corner, quite secluded from the rest of the crowd. They ordered their meal and had some small talk. Her hand reaches down to his knee, and rests it there, before trailing it deeper to his now responding cock. He checks the tablecloth length and is relieved when he sees that it reaches the floor. She smiles wickedly at him, and continues to unzip his slacks easily. His shaft springs out into her awaiting palm, where she starts to give his monstrous cock a hand job. Careful not to move her arm so much as to attract attention, she hold the pulsating cock in her palms, where she strokes the gigantic thing until it has reached its maximum length. Glancing around to see if anyone was watching, she ducked under the table and hid, where she took it into her lips and started probing his cock for his delicious cum. She sucked voraciously, like a mini-hoover, and wrapped her tongue around it giving it a trapped feeling. Chris tried to keep his face looking calmly, scanning the room for any watchers, his marine training had given him the advantage of keeping his composure, and cool. He could feel the strain at his balls and his cock, tightening, ready for release. He warned her quietly, and the result was her sucking it harder than ever. He groaned as he shot load after load of his milky cum into her mouth. He had tried to disguise it as a cough into his napkin. Then the waiter walked up with the tray of food,
"Where may the madam be? I do not want her dinner to become cold." Chris reassured him that she was taking a stroll and would be back in a minute. The waiter nodded and strode off. He handed her his napkin to wipe off any cum on her face or dress. He tucked his cock back into his pants, as she came back to the surface. She smiled, and glanced at him. He looked at her in disbelief, and then slyly.
"Well, did you like the appetizer?" She tucked her napkin into her lap, and made no comment. Throughout the dinner, they made suggestive looks, and touches occasionally. Rubbing her leg against his, having the fork move in and out of her mouth slowly, or his tongue flicking around his spoon.
As dinner was finished and the tab payed, they retreated out of Chez La Fleur, and headed back to her apartment. In the car, their hands or lips could not keep off each other. In the end, when they could not hold it in any longer, Monica stopped the car on a deserted dirt path, and they clambered to the back seat. There, they tore off each other's clothes, flinging them aside, and engaged in a long passionate kiss. They had moved the seats so it was more spacious, however it was still a bit cramped. Therefore Chris maneuvered his body so he was on top, and his tongue, like a snake, slithered down her body to her pussy. His tongue flicked in and out, loosening the walls a bit. His hands also fingering her clit passionately. She laid onto the edge of the seat, propping herself up so she could see him. He focused intently, on her tight pussy, and tickled her lightly. She groaned. She wanted his large cock inside her, filling her with his essence. Giving into desire, he forced it into her in one push, and started to slam it in like there was no tomorrow. She whimpered in pain, yet she begged for it harder and faster. She wanted his colossal cock ramming into her at full speed. She screamed louder and louder, but the slap of flesh also crescendoed. Finally, she couldn't hold back any longer, and her cum splattered out of her and onto his ever slamming cock. Still begging for more, he rammed into her harder than ever before. Her body convulsed with another orgasm, and his release almost approaching also. One last slam, he unloaded another sling of hot cum into her pussy, and she let out another load also. He relaxed, letting themselves regain their breaths, and finally he retired onto the seat beside her, also still inside her. He took her in his arms, and held her tightly, as they both drifted off into peaceful sleep.
Later that morning, Chris awoke. Sunshine peaking into his eyes. He got up, wrapped Monica up in a blanket, got dressed, and drove back to her apartment. He carried her up, and laid her on the bed beside himself, where they finished their sleep.
