Erotic Tale #5: The Museum Visit

Erotic Short Stories & Vignettes, Uncategorized

She liked to visit the Fine Art museum on her days off. Wandering from room to room, taking in all of the delectable visual stimuli, whether a painting by one of the European masters or a Post-Modern abstract installation, she would smile to herself, and caress the sides of her thighs as she gazed at whichever work of human creativity she found before her.

She adored art. She lived for it. She wanted to see it, touch it, smell it, feel it, be inundated by it. Art made her swell, expand, breathe deeper. It excited her in ways she couldn’t put into words.

She knew what it felt like to make it, and was aroused by the thought of other artists feeling the same way as they created. She could feel herself trickling like a little forest brook… and was relieved to be wearing underwear today as it was absorbing the aromatic evidence of her sensorially-drenched arousal.

As she ambled about the various rooms of her preferred museum, she obliviously caught the attention of a man sitting in a far corner of the room, sketchbook open on his lap and a pencil in his hand. His dark eyes followed her as she criss-crossed the room, moving randomly from one painting to another, going towards whichever painting seemed to call to her.

As she stood in front of the painting he was sketching, he noticed her press her legs together and gently bunch up her skirt with her hand, pulling it taut against her right ass cheek. He wiped his brow as he watched her thumb stroking the bare skin of her thigh. He picked up his pencil, flipped to a fresh page, and began to sketch her curves as a bead of sweat rolled down the side of his stubbled face.

She heard the sound of his pencil etching, and turned towards him, regarding his furrowed brow and his clandestine work. When he looked up to take her in again, their eyes met, his dark as pitch and hers clear as quartz. He tried to cover his sketch with his hand, but her bright eyes were faster.

He could not read the expression on her face. Was it curiosity? Irritation? Expectation? Were her pupils dilated? He was perplexed because he was so used to seeing people as open books. She was a frustration to him, but one that he found more amusing than annoying.

He noticed her skirt had buttons going up from the hemline to the waist line. The bottom two were already unbuttoned. He found it a rather practical but very sexy design feature; he imagined possibilities with that skirt.

Though he was still trying to decode her, she could read him without any doubt: he was rapt. She had often fantasized of someone wearing that exact look while beholding her, and had never seen it until that moment.

It made her clench her secret parts, and push out an audibly laboured breath. He smiled at her blushing cheeks as he flipped to another fresh page, taking care to hide his substantial erection with his sketchbook.

She noticed it, but didn’t give it away. She tossed a glance over her shoulder to see where the security guard was; he was zoning out by the entrance on the other side of the room. There were no other patrons aside from the two of them, so she slowly started to unbutton her skirt from the bottom up. The last button was positioned right below her belly button. She left that untouched lest her whole skirt fall to the floor.

He glimpsed her floral print thong as she parted her skirt, and her legs. Another bead of sweat slid down the side of his face as she pulled her panties away from the overflowing wellspring at the appex of her ample thighs. His hand started to dance the pencil across the page, sketching out the shaded areas and rolling contours of her glistening sex. He couldn’t pull his eyes from her fluttering shell-pink petals as he translated her hidden beauty to the pages of his sketchbook. He could smell her swollen sea as it ebbed and flowed like waves of oceanic desire as she swirled her finger around and around that protruding node of ecstacy peeking out from under its hood.

His turgid rod pressed into his jeans, filling him with a desperate ache and an undeniable need to enter her, infiltrate her very essence, as she slipped her index finger between her honeyed pussy lips. Then she brought her finger to her mouth and licked it clean. His body spasmed and held in a groan as he issued the final strokes of graphite to the sketch. It was finished now. So was he. So were his cum-stained pants.

And now, so was she. She buttoned down her skirt, gifting him with a crooked mischievous grin, not once breaking eye contact. He dropped his pencil in his waking reverie, and leaned over to retrieve it. As he rose up, pencil in hand, he watched her swaying hips as she walked away, and he was frozen stiff with unyielding lust. He was too much of a mess to pursue her… but they both knew this would not be the last encounter.


Playtime in the Snow


I had myself little fun this past weekend. Up in the country, there is still a tonne of snow. Mountains of the white shit blocks the view from most of our windows. This year was a doozy in the snow department.

So I figured I would make the best of it, and enjoy some temperature play of my own.

It started with a strip tease…

Then me reclining directly on the snow. Yes… I would have to be crazy to do this. And luckily, I am!

The photo looks delicious, yet I was feeling anything but! My ass was frozen!

See the redness? Like I said… frozen arse. But begging for a spank.

There is nothing quite as liberating as nudity (or partial nudity) en plein air. Mmmm! Can’t wait for warmer weather. I have a feeling a lot of naked outdoor adventures await.


Body Part Painting #2: My Electric Butt Cheeks


I am being guided towards more creative and spiritual pursuits as of late. Mainly meditation and self-questioning (this is a struggle but a worthy one) and more visual art.

My Kandinsky piece really got me excited to make more art with my body.

For this one, my ass would be the palette and applicator. Like my canvas, it was pristine and really to be sullied for the sake of art, self-expression and body positivity.

Here goes the first cheek! I used my hands because I am a savage like that.

Now the other!

Both cheeks are ready for their impression on the canvas.

I tried sitting on it. It was pretty funny to behold… and not efficient at all. So I just put myself into Goddess pose and pressed the canvas onto my ass. I wiggled around on it, and totally turned myself on while doing it too. Tee hee!

My ass looks like an assymetrical butterfly. Makes sense.

I applied paint to the cute part of my ass that curves in towards my pussy. You know which part…. And pressed the canvas into that… or rather rubbed myself onto the canvas. 😈

Then I poured paint onto my hand and flung it onto the canvas where my pussy would be… ish. I made sure to make that nice and messy. A pussy explosion, if you will.

There you have it. Sexy ass art. It will happen again.

I think I want to do a pussy impression. Not sure how to go about that but I will figure it out.

I want to use my belly to make art as well as that is my biggest point of (healing) self-consciousness and self-loathing.

Art is a soul saviour.