The Art of Sex Ch. 07

Chapter 7 -- Assume the Position

Our taxi pulls up to the curb on the 5th Avenue side of the Metropolitan Museum, just off 82nd. I remind you to carefully manage your skirt while climbing the 30-some steps to the main entrance since, as I asked, you aren't wearing panties. You laugh, but then look behind you and realize I'm not kidding. Without panties, if you aren't careful, you'll flash your bare ass (and much more) to any lucky pedestrian who happened to look up the stairs from street-level.

Once inside the Met, I buy our tickets and ask you to grab a map so we can locate the Japanese gallery without wasting time. The museum closes in less than an hour. You point out the Japanese collection is on the 2nd floor, so I follow you upstairs, guarding your rear.

We head up the grand staircase, with you carefully monitoring your skirt. You point in the direction of the Japanese Gallery, but I take your hand and lead you the other way. You seem confused by this, but go where I take you.

We walk around the main stairs and then double back 180º so we can overlook the lobby from the Great Hall balcony. We're looking down from the southwest balcony with our butts facing the Greek room. We laugh at this naughty irony.

Leaning on the railing, I suggest we make a photo essay of our New York adventure. I say that I want you to take photos of the scenery with your cell phone, while I hold my camera at arm's length for a selfie of us as you shoot. You're puzzled by this silly game, but comply.

I direct you to the balcony and suggest you shoot a photo looking down on the expansive lobby. You lean on the railing to frame your shot. Then I lean against you from behind. You instantly realize what I really have in mind. I'm wearing a mid-length coat that hangs down below my pants pockets. Leaning against you, my coat extends below the bottom of your skirt. I look around. The spot I chose for us is devoid of people.

After reaching up your skirt in the restaurant on our first date, I discovered that you are excited by surreptitious public arousal. So, I intend to take this fantasy to another level. And, I want to scare you a little bit too, just to heighten your arousal. My goal is to short-out the conventional connections in your rational mind and leave you with nothing but pure "Id" and crazy with lust.

I want to hold a very special place in your erotic mind -- one of unbridled desire and mild kink that you can safely share with someone you deem safe -- me. That requires trust as I break down your barriers and inhibitions. So far, so good, I think.

I tell you to lean on the rail and pretend like you're shooting photos, and take your time doing so. I unzip my jeans and push up against you from behind. From under my coat I raise your skirt, take out my cock and slide it into your pussy from behind. You gasp and look around nervously. I hold you to the railing so you cannot escape even if you wanted to. But, you don't try to get away.

"Assume the position, sweet," I think to myself. You already know I like rear entry positions. You know to lean forward to provide me access. All I say is, "Perfect," as I push deeper into you. At this point, such faint praise makes you happy. We're learning each other's pleasure preferences. Eros is a subtle art. I want you to think you're "mine" to do with as I wish.

I lean hard into you and whisper in your ear, "I told you to wear a skirt, for a reason. Now take your photo, baby." You shoot your picture with me inside of you. And while you're shooting, I hold my camera at arm's length and snap a selfie of us together. I then extricate myself from you and zip up my pants. We preview my photo. You wonder what kind of man thinks of things like this. You wonder what else I might do. You are a little scared and very aroused. Electrified might be a better word.

Seeing us standing at the rail we just look like an affectionate couple taking an innocent selfie. My photo proves it. I show it to you. You realize this is how any nearby tourists would see us mid-fuck. I've made my point picture-perfect, and you're suddenly overcome with a newfound desire to shoot the entire museum. You are becoming a playful little slut, just for me. I love it.

"This is a very stimulating perspective..." you quip.

"Yes, I noticed a very satisfied smile in your selfie," I reply.

"Don't flatter yourself, I was just enjoying the view..." you laugh. "Smartass," I think to myself.

To be continued...