Pictures at an Exhibition

Arthur was standing by the entrance to Met as promised, when Sandy came up the steps, in a flower-patterned, ankle-length, crepe dress that clung to and gently outlined her body. It was June in the city, sunny, and he wore blue jeans and a red polo shirt; the buckle on his leather belt gleamed silver.

"Hello Princess." He smiled with his eyes and mouth, moved to embrace her smiling figure, and she opened her arms and mouth as they connected. Mouth to mouth, lips meshing, their tongues gently entwined as they pressed together. Arthur's hand spread flat on the plain of her back as he shifted weight from one leg to the other, making the couple sway slowly in the warm sunlight. They kissed again, again, and again, tongues probing further, hands moving from neck to waist, Arthur's coming down over the curve of her buttocks, uncovered by any underwear. He gripped her hips with palms and open hands, gently pressing her belly to his, and Sandy could feel the warmth of his rising erection against the tingling heat of her mons.

"I'm so happy to see you." He kissed her again, hands rising up her sides, thumbs easing from the beginnings of her breasts, under her armpits, and then wrapping around her back and hugging her tightly. Arthur tilted backwards and lifted Sandy to the tips of her toes and off the ground as their mouths and lips connected again.

Sandy basked in the contact, all of Arthur's attention focused on her. She swooned slightly with the sensations, oblivious to the passing crowds.

"You do want to see the exhibit, don't you?" She asked as they finally separated.

"Of course." He took her hands and eyes in his. "Look, Sandy, when we're together, whatever we do, I want to touch you, hold hands, hold each other, possess and kiss. When we do things together, I want to love you as a lover does. You're sharp, beautiful, passionate, and this is the way I respond."

Sandy looked at him, her pale blue eyes boring into his brown ones. Yes, she thought to herself, and threw her arms around his neck, pulling his face to hers for another deep extended kiss.

"Shall we go inside?" she asked.

"Yes, let's," and hand in hand, they entered the museum.

They were in a large gallery, a couple among others wandering through. All around them were the golden-framed paintings of full-bodied women, mythical Greek beauties, their many curves filling the canvases. Their breasts were small by comparison with the rest of their figures, nipples a darker pink against the luminous, glowing skin of their bodies. Arthur and Sandy stood in the middle of the room, admiring one recumbent beauty attended by hovering cherubs.

"Gorgeous," said Arthur. "Raphael knows how to appreciate a woman. Isn't she stunning? I'll bet you look like that at home."

"Yeah, right, as if I have floor-to-ceiling drapes."

He moved behind her and wrapped his arms around her, smoothing his hands over her stomach. "That's not what I meant, Princess, mmm," and he nuzzled her neck through her hair, planting light kisses.

Sandy took his hands and pushed them down by her sides. "Stop."

"Why? Afraid of museum security?" And he hugged her again, raising and crossing his forearms before lightly stroking her nipples through the light fabric as he pulled his hands away. Sandy shivered with surprise, sensation, and a smidgeon of fear of being caught.

She saw herself naked and creamy-skinned in a crowded gallery, countless arms and hands moving over her tingling body, grasping, caressing, squeezing, tickling, brushing, pinching, stroking her from face to feet, bum to belly and back again. Sandy's nipples jutted hard, her belly tightened, her loins ran with fluids, legs spread wide as she gave herself to the endless variety of touches...

"Alright, that's enough, let's go." Sandy broke away while taking his hand and heading for the exit.

"Where?" he asked, striding to catch up with her short, swift strides.

"Out. For a walk. That alright with you?"

"If I can keep up."

They strode through midtown, taking in the sights, sounds, and smells of a summer Saturday. At every stoplight, Arthur turned to embrace Sandy and kiss her at length. Sometimes the light changed and passersby moved on, not before offering the occasional whistle.

Overhead the sky had filled with heavy clouds and they had turned down a street of corporate towers with few pedestrians. Thick drops began to spatter the sidewalk.

"Down here," Sandy said, leading Arthur to the patio of a black monolithic skyscraper. There was a small overhang by the entrance but more importantly shrubbery offering a bit of privacy around the corners of the building. Arthur caught her meaning and took her in his arms. They grabbed each other as the raindrops fell on their chests, arms, and heads, deep fierce kisses with tongues plunging past lips and teeth. Sandy gripped his buttocks with her powerful arms, grinding his crotch in hers. He needed little encouragement, pressing forward, trying to feel the heat between her legs as his hands stroked hard over her back and buttocks, curving underneath to play at lifting her against him. The rain, warm and thick, poured out of the sky, water merging with the wetness of their mouths, soaking her dress and his shirt until their nipples, all four tight and hard, rubbed against each other. They stumbled into the corner, hidden from all but an appreciative guard behind the smoked glass of the building's lobby.

"Oooh, Sandy, I want you so much, right here, right now," Arthur murmured in her ear. He moved around her, leaning back against the granite walls so that she leaned back against him, his left leg pushing between her thighs, his depressed erection embedded against her right buttock, her torso twisted around so that she could take his face and kiss him again. Arthur held her left hip with one hand while he stroked down her body with the other, starting from her rain-wet throat, running down to and over her breasts to her belly where the fabric plastered itself like a second skin. She shivered again and again, his hand coming back up to caress her face, stroke back her mane before dropping once more.

"Look up, Princess," he whispered, ‟see how the building rises into the sky, beyond the rain, beyond anything earthbound. That's how you make me feel." And he slid his hand below her waist, down between the soaked folds of her dress. At the same time Arthur lifted his left leg so that his thigh joined in the pressure, from below, flexing against her perineum as his fingers pressed her fabric around and along her slit.

"You naughty girl, you're not wearing any panties! I've a good mind to go down and cover you up personally."

"I'm not stopping you, am I?" and Sandy tried to grasp his penis through his jeans. Arthur had other ideas, however, and he bunched up her dress on one side, exposing her knee, her thigh, her haunch, and finally her hip and buttock. Rain lashed at the skin revealed while Arthur's hand slid and slipped up and down, around and under the crease of her buttock and back out to where her inner thigh joined her crotch.

"Feel how smooth you are, how fresh you are. Look at the creaminess of your skin, Sandy," he crooned. Arthur slipped his hand across her mons, fingers sliding up and down her short hairs.

"Why, Princess, I declare, I feel peach fuzz!"

"I like it short, keeps me cool," she murmured between a kiss and a sigh.

"Why, afraid you'll overheat?" And he leaned back, shoulders against the granite walls, exposing all of Sandy's front to the falling rain. He dropped his leg, the soaked dress dropping with it, but his hand stayed over her pussy, now easing fingers along and in her widening slit. She gasped between kisses, his tongue imitating the flirting penetration below, his other hand grasping her breasts under the wet cotton. Arthur's fingertips ran up and down her labia, from the fuzz-covered join between her quaking thighs to the nubbin emerging at the top of her slickening opening.

"Sandy, you're wet through and through, inside and out, here, in the heart of this, the greatest city in world. Come to me, come for me, give yourself the warm downpour, the full, wet skies, my beauty." And he clutched her head, fingers running through the thick mat of her hair. He stroked faster below the rain-darkened fabric as the thick drops pelted her body, lightly stinging her tingling nipples.

"Ooh," she cried, the tingling joining the shocks shooting from down below her belly, between her hips, inside her pussy where Arthur's fingers dove, circled, and rubbed. "OOoh," she cried again, hips bucking as he held across her waist with his other arm.

"Yes, Princess, look up, say it to the skies, let yourself go to the storm!" And he slid his fingers faster than ever along the slippery sides of her clit, hard against her mound, liquid running down her inner thighs as water flowed between her aching breasts.

"YES!" she cried, nerves exploding at the base of her belly. "OH, YEAH!" Her thighs clamped together, pinching Arthur's hand and her clit between his fingers. The rain covered them, Sandy shouting again and again as her body spasmed in time to the pulses arcing through her. Inside the building, the guard gripped his hardened cock and shot streams of sperm across the lobby floor as he watched the writhing couple in the corner.

As Sandy relaxed, Arthur removed his hand, caressing her leg before bringing it from under her dress to his mouth. She turned and held him around the neck, catching her breath.

"Sweetness," he tasted his fingertips. "Nothing sweeter than you: here, taste for yourself." He inserted his middle finger in her mouth and she sucked on it, her juices as he kissed her cheek, her nose, her lips, pulling his finger away and hugging her close. They clung to one another, heads bent, in the downpour.

"We're wet," he observed. "Are you going to make me go home in this condition?"

"No," she looked up at him. "I drove in. You're coming back with me."

"To the princess's palace? Why, you do me great honor."

"The doing goes both ways." She kissed him hard. "C'mon."