Petit Palais, Friday 7:15 PM. Scooter parked. Heart hammers. Will she come? Florence, married, kids, but she called. Tailleur skirt suit, gray. White blouse. Black heels. I wave. She hurries. First kiss, cheeks, no choice. Tickets bought. Downstairs icons first. Dim halls. Few people. I lead. Stand behind her. Watch her more than art. ‘What do you feel?’ She speaks: rigid faith, gold inspiring Klimt. Close now. Hand on waist. Pull to next painting. Hands on hips. ‘Arch your back.’ Skirt brushes my cock. No panties line? Ass out, tits forward. Mouth to ear. ‘Undo two buttons.’ Fingers obey. One, two, three. Lace bra, areola shadows, nipples tenting. Press her ass to my bulge. Bite earlobe. She shivers. Cock swells. She pulls away. I follow. Hand on hip, fingers under skirt. Neck massage. Finger to lips. She sucks, wet heat. Pull away. Want her chasing. Heels click. Breath on neck. Hands on my hips. Tits crush my back. Nipples harden on jacket. ‘Kiss me.’ Hot lips. Bites ear. I throb. Guide her hand to cock. Stroke it. ‘Feel what you do?’ She sucks lobe harder. Flee to corner. She follows. Turn. Grab waist. Kiss. ‘Eyes open!’ Tongue invades. Suck hers. Bite lips swollen. Guard hums disapproval. Upstairs. She sways hips. ‘Stockings or tights?’ Lifts skirt. Dark tops, white thigh. Hand in my pocket. Cock pulses. She teases. Old woman glares. Femme aux Gants. Like her. My fingers slip corsage. Hot belly skin. Hers quickens on me. Under panty elastic. Silky pubes. Nervous jerks. Bite neck. ‘Want you now.’ Head nods. Hand grips cock hard. Close to cum. ‘Wait in big toilet.’ Eyes lock. She flees heels echoing.
Door scratches open. Push in. Lock. She devours mouth, tongue wild. Jerks cock frantic. Lost to lust. Bite lips. ‘Turn.’ Arch. ‘Lift skirt.’ Stockings, white panties. Hand molds ass. Firm. Spread legs. Palm cups pussy. Massage. ‘Turn. Keep skirt up. Eyes on me.’ Docile. ‘Panties off. No, eyes here.’ Slides down thighs. ‘Give.’ Pocketed. Touch mound. Wet slit. Finger dips. Taste her sweet. ‘Turn. Arch.’ Kneel. Legs spread. Blonde bush, thick lips. Mouth full. Chew. She quakes. Juices flow. Tongue deep. Thumb clit. Fingers ass. Milk her. Legs buckle. Orgasm hits. Suck clit. She cries, reels. Hold firm. Drain her. Stand. Turn. Deep kiss. Hands lift ass. She probes eyes. Soul bared.
The Fever
Out. Scooter. Helmet, gloves. ‘Victor Hugo?’ Straddles. Tits mash back. Skirt hikes. Bare pussy on seat. Drivers stare? Arms caress chest. Lights blur. Arrive. Helmet off. Furious kiss. Tongue revives dead. Hand under blouse, bra. Heart pounds under palm. Time stops. She buttons, memorizes face. Waves into night. Home. Clic. SMS: ‘You melted me. Revenge soon. Florence.’ Skin still burns. Heart races. Owned her. Unforgettable.