The Art of Love

"Shit! I'm going to be late again! Crap!" I yelled to absolutely no one. I ran to my tiny closet and threw open the doors. I pulled out a heather grey Theory pencil skirt and lilac silk blouse that I had purchased on my last scouting trip to Italy. I ran around searching for my keys and couldn't find them anywhere. For having the typical small Manhattan apartment I can never find anything. Granted, my apartment is much nicer than my friends' stereotypical Alphabet City three-bedroom, one-bath places with 6 people crammed in. With one bedroom and a Park Ave. South location, I was definitely doing better than the people with whom I had attended NYU. I was proud of what I had accomplished: I was fully supporting myself and the trust fund that my parents had set aside for me at birth was never touched. Regardless, my lifestyle was much different than the one to which I had become accustomed growing up in Bel Air.

I finally found my keys on top of the stove and ran out the door. It was way too late to take the subway so I hailed a cab and made my way to Chelsea. I was dropped off in front of the gallery where I work minutes before opening and threw the key into the lock and ran inside. I threw my Fendi bag down on the desk, turned on the lights and ran to the back and quickly made a pot of coffee.

"Celeste! Dahling, are you here? Where are you my pet?"

"I'm in the back Donata!"

Donata is the owner of the art gallery where I work. She's from Rome and is one of the most beautiful women that I have ever met. She hired me three years ago fresh out of college solely because her name in Italian means "from God" and mine is French for heavenly; she thought that this meant that we were soul mates. Now, three years later, she has put me in charge of her Chelsea gallery and stops by twice a month to make sure that I haven't burnt the place down or run off with a five-hundred thousand dollar painting.

"Dahling, there is a fabulous new artiste coming in today from Munich. I think we should sign him. You decide. OK, now, I make some espresso then I go."

And like a blur she was gone. I exhaled a sigh of relief that I had the place back to myself again and sat down at the receptionist's desk until Katrina came in at 11. I busied myself with some paperwork and greeted the occasional tourist that came by. Most mornings only tourists came into the gallery, evenings and weekends were when the serious shoppers came by.

At 11 on the dot Katrina came in and took over the greeting duties. I moved to my office in the back and flipped through some portfolios that artists had sent in. All of them went in the trash and I started to write some emails when my phone rang.

"Celeste Bouvier, how may I help you?"

"Hey, it's Kat. There's a Johannes Mayer here to see you."

"Thanks, send him in."

I ran my fingers through my hair prepared to meet another one of the horrid artists, which Donata routinely shoved my way. I stood up as the door opened and my jaw nearly hit the floor. Johannes was about 6'4" and well-built with tanned skin and sandy blonde hair, completely my type. At that moment I cursed my b-cup chest and 5'2" frame wishing that I were one of those Amazonian women seen in the Victoria's Secret catalogue.

"Hi, I'm Johannes, nice to meet you," he said with a slight accent.

"Celeste, my pleasure, please have a seat," I said. Thankfully I had regained my composure in time not to look like a blubbering idiot.

"So, Donata didn't really tell me anything about you or your work, would you mind filling me in a bit?"

He talked for about five minutes telling me how he had grown up in a small town outside of Berlin and had moved to Munich when he was 16 to pursue art. His family didn't understand and he had very little contact with them since. He worked odd jobs to support himself and his art until he had a successful show in Germany a few years ago. He's now trying to break into the New York art scene and was lucky enough to run into Donata at an art show in Zurich a few weeks ago.

As he was talking, all I could think about was him fucking me right then and there on my desk and I was getting wetter and wetter. I truly was trying to concentrate on what he was saying but the thought of him taking me from behind kept popping into my head. I cleared my throat and asked if I could see his portfolio.

He flashed his gorgeous smile and nervously handed it to me. I slowly flipped through his work and was greatly impressed. He reminded me of Basquiat with a touch of Schnabel thrown in for good measure. Unlike these other two artists, Johannes' work spoke to me on an even deeper level and I was speechless looking at his works.

I looked across the desk at Johannes who was nervously biting his bottom lip.

"How much do you normally sell your canvases for?"

"Uh, about 6,000 to 8,000 euro. Why? Do you think that's too much?"

I smiled and looked into his deep-blue eyes. "I think that I could sell them for at least ten times that. Herr Mayer, the Donata Pilato Gallery would like to offer you an exclusive two-year contract, what do you say?"

"Mein Gott! Ja! Yes! Thank you! Danke!"

"Perfect!" I laughed. "How about dinner tonight at Buddakan to celebrate? My treat"

"Absolutely," he said. "But of course I have to pay because a woman as beautiful as you should never pay for her own dinner."

"You're just saying that because I want to sign you."

"No, because you... Ok, yes, but you are also very beautiful."

I smiled. "So, how about you come by here around 8 and we'll head over?"

"Wonderful, see you then."

At lunch I ran down the street to Balenciaga and grabbed a great dress for way more than I should probably be paying for a dress. Since my lunch hour was almost over I grabbed a pretzel and diet coke from the hot dog vendor on the corner and went back to the gallery. At 7:45 I changed into my new dress, ran a brush through my hair and touched up my make-up.

8:00 rolled around and Johannes showed up right on time.

"You look wonderful! Wow!"

"Thanks, Johannes. You don't look half bad yourself. Ready?"

We walked down 9th Ave. until we reached the restaurant. Dinner was much the same as our meeting: Johannes talking with me listening and occasionally nodding while constantly thinking about how all I wanted to do was get my brains fucked out by this gorgeous man. I kept telling myself that I had to be professional, this was a work dinner, but I kept getting wetter and wetter thinking about his strong body working my petite one over.

"Is everything ok, Celeste?"

Snapping back into reality I told him that everything was fine.

"Are you sure? You look a little... how do you say? Flushed?"

"It's just been a long few days at work, but it's better now that we're here having dinner."

From there the night got progressively better and I felt more at ease around Johannes. He laughed when I told him stories about going to NYU and sneaking into clubs through the back door because we were underage. Several drinks later we stumbled out of the restaurant. We held hand laughing down the street when I finally got the courage to do what I had been wanting to do all night. I stopped and Johannes turned around.

I pulled him close to me and he leaned down and kissed me. We made out there on the sidewalk for about ten minutes when I pulled away for some air.

"Where's your apartment?" I asked.

"I'm staying with a friend in Brooklyn," he said leaning down and kissing me again.

I pulled away and hailed a taxi.

"Park between 38th and 39th," I told the driver.

A few minutes later we pulled up at my building. Dan, my doorman, opened the door and we ran in. We were frantically pulling off our clothes in the elevator and running our hands all over each other's bodies. The elevator stopped at my floor and we quickly walked to my apartment.

"God, I've wanted you from the minute I saw you," Johannes cooed as he kissed my neck while unzipping my dress.

"I could barely keep my mind on our meeting, I just kept thinking about..."

"Thinking about what?" he asked.

I turned around and smiled while I opened my door. I threw my keys somewhere on the floor while he slipped the straps of my dress off of my shoulders. My dress fell to the floor and I turned around and started to take off his jeans.

"Nein," was all he said as he carried me to my bed. He started kissing my neck and slowly moved down to my breasts. He grabbed my left breast was he sucked on my hardened right nipple. His side hand moved down side and caressed my stomach and hips. His mouth moved to my left nipple as his hand moved down to my thigh. I tried to get up because I really wanted to take his cock out of his pants, but he pushed me back down onto the bed.

He moved his body down, teasing me by lightly tracing his fingers up and down my thighs, each time coming closer and closer to my aching pussy. He moved my legs gently apart and moved his face down between my thighs. He breathed heavily on my swollen clit and gently traced his fingers over me. Suddenly he threw his face down and feverishly sucked on my clit and put a finger inside of me. He licked and sucked me faster then slower repeating this and driving me wild. He stuck a second finger inside of me and started to work quicker and quicker.

"Oh, God, oh, God, I'm coming! Johannes, I'm coming!" He didn't move from his position and kept working me until I came harder than I had ever before.

I sat there laying on the bed for a few minutes trying to regain myself. I sat up and smiled.

"Come here, it's your turn now."

"No, this is all about you tonight."

He pushed me back down onto the bed and climbed on top of me. We kissed passionately for a few minutes when I reached down and was finally able to unzip Johannes. He flipped over and I pulled his jeans and boxers off and lowered my mouth to his 8-inch cock. I couldn't fit it all into my mouth but I tried my best. I teased him with my tongue and lips for a few minutes while he groaned with delight.

"Come here, I want to make love to you."

I crawled up with a smile on my face and he gently laid me on my back. He placed himself on top of me and pushed me in and out of me, using several thrusts before he was finally able to fully fit inside of me. He slowly quickened the pace until we were fucking furiously, knocking the headboard against the wall repeatedly. I pushed him off of me and flipped around and got on all fours. He kneeled behind me and grabbed my hips and fucked me harder and harder until we both came at the same time.

"So," I said, "we should do this again sometime."

Johannes leaned over and kissed me and we fell asleep in each other's arms.