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Sue's 5th: Louvre Love (m/f)
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
don't think you can be mature about it. Reading and writing these stories
should be acts of fantasy, and I hope that you can keep your notions of real
and fantasy life seperate in your mind. I know I can. If you would like to
let me know what you think, or if you have a follow-up fantasy (which is
something that I REALLY like), you can reach me at [email protected] ... but I
can't promise to return your emails... I do have some other things to do in
my real life!
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LOUVRE LOVE
by Sue
Across the wide marble floor of the art museum, I think I see your face
again. It's too much of a coincidence! I saw you earlier, I'm sure at the
fountain in the park. I was watching the cute little stone cherubs peeing
into the water, while you were staring up at the muscular nude goddess
towering above the main geysers. And I'm pretty sure that was you last night
standing on the bridge over the Seine, gazing dreamily into the churning
water. Now, here at the museum, our paths intersect again.
I decide to follow you for a while. First you are drawn to a huge painting
that depicts maybe a dozen nude men and women cavorting in a Springtime glen.
Next you stop in front of a realistic sculpture of a nude man and woman in a
deep embrace. Their polished granite surfaces remind me of the sheen of sweat
that would be covering my skin if I was in such an embrace. My curiosity
about you started as an interest in the coincidences. but now I am feeling
the very first tendrils of desires snaking up through my muscles. These
desires seem out of place here in this public place.
Finally, there you are in front of a gigantic abstract painting that is
filled with massive swirls of intense colors. I'm not sure if this is what
the artist had in mind, but the power of the painting is, for me, absolutely
sensual and even erotic. The crimson reds and flesh colors evoke images in my
minds eye of all sorts of body parts: open vulva......rounded
buttocks.........erect penises...........rubbery nipples...........wet lips
and tongues.
It was obvious to me what was on my mind, and as I pulled my eyes away from
the magnetic image, I turned to look over to see if you had moved on. No, you
are still staring up at the gigantic tableau. I can't help but to let my eyes
travel down your body. You too have sex permeating your experience of this
painting, for the front of your khaki trousers is taughtly stretched over an
upthrusting erection. In staring at the result of your interest in the
painting, I almost think I can see your cock pulsing slowly inside your thin
pants.
I've never been a particularly brave or upfront person with strangers. But
here I am alone in Paris. Nobody knows me or will scold me for being brazen.
So I take a deep breath and move quietly towards you. Paying no mind to the
dozens of art lovers wandering around the gallery behind us, I sidle up
silently beside you and turn my face up toward yours. I say in a husky
whisper "the painting is having the same effect on you that it is on me". And
with that, I let my head turn slowly downward and give an obvious stare at
your tented crotch. I can't believe that I am doing this, but what the Hell!!
When I look back up, you have turned towards me and we stare into each
other's eyes for what seems like hours. Part of me wants to run away as fast
as I can, but instead, I take your hand in mine. I know my palm is moist, but
yours feels even hotter. I start to lead you across the floor, but you seem
bewildered. When you start to ask a question, I reach over and put my finger
over your lips to silence you, and then I press the tip of my finger between
your lips, against your teeth. After a moment of resistance, your teeth open,
and I slide my finger in over your tongue and worm it around slowly. The
surprise in your eyes melts away, and I can see that you are willing to trust
me about this. You know that I have your pleasure in mind, as well as mine.
I take your hand again and continue to lead you, till we stand in front of
the elevator. Getting in, I press the lowest button, which takes us down to a
dark vaulted hallway. It seems like we have gone back in time to the Middle
Ages. But I know my way around, having been an art student in Paris many
years ago. In the dark, we shuffle down the hallway, and I open a door into a
huge storeroom, lit by bare bulbs way above us in the echo-filled arches
overhead. It's so eerie and mysterious, and I tingle with excitement. Just as
we pass through the door into this room, I circle behind you and reach around
to cup your crotch, quickly confirming that you have not lost your erection.
A quick squeeze, and then I push you forward from behind, 'til we stand in an
area surrounded by erotic paintings and sculpture. This is where the museum
stores away the masterpieces that are considered too libidinous to show to
the public. The museum staff keeps them on display for their own research (we
know why they really keep up the display, don't we?).
You stand in awe, body rigid with curiosity and shock , and I don't feel any
more inhibitions about what I'm doing. I drop suddenly to my knees (the cold
hard concrete is such a contrast to the feelings coursing through my veins)
and pull open the button at the top of your fly, then rapidly yank down the
zipper. And without wasting a moment, I hook my fingers into the waistband of
your tight designer jockey shorts and pull down your pants and shorts all at
once. Your cock thrusts up into the air, arching up toward the faraway
ceiling. I tell you to step out of your loafers and pants, and then I blow a
stream of air onto your cockhead, which is fat with your hot blood engorging
it. I tickle you balls and you spread your legs. You almost seem to be in a
trance as I purse my lips over the tip of your cock and gently milk your
balls. When I take one hand and press the tips of my fingers up behind your
balls and press upwards and forwards right in front of your asshole, I push a
dollop of precome up through your rigid cock, and it drools out onto my lips.
The taste is so salty and enticing. When I draw my head away, a thin string
of your come stretches between my mouth and your throbbing cock. It's clear
and glistening, like a glass-blowers string of hot drawn glass. Suddenly, I
thrust my head forward and suck your cock in as far as I can stand and give
you a series of short, hard sucks that make your knees shake. Then I pull
away.
You look down at me in seeming disappointment; but I smile broadly, lips
still wet with your come. And then I lead you over to a large stone sculpture
depicting two figures that are maybe twice life size. The man is sitting on a
smooth stone, and the voluptuous woman is seated on his lap, her back against
his muscular chest. She is impaled on his cock. Actually , all we can see are
his balls, but it takes little imagination to picture his penis far up inside
her belly. Her face is turned upward and she is obviously is in the throes of
ecstasy.
I pull your turtleneck up and over your head, and then tell you to climb up
onto the sculpture and seat yourself on the woman's lap. The marble must feel
icy cold on your sweaty ass, for I see you squirm and your cock bobs around.
As you finally settle into a comfortable position, I tease you with
striptease that is not in the least subtle. I feel so absolutely brazen and
wild, but not a bit guilty about it. And I love the feeling of being so much
in control. Not once have I given you any choice about what is happening. Not
that I think you are complaining. Far from it.
Naked now, I caress my breasts and push them up toward my face. I can just
barely stretch out my tongue to flick at the tips of my nipples, and they are
stimulated into blunt points like large pencil erasers. Then I drop my right
hand down onto my thin cunt hair, and squat down. My knees spread wide, and I
watch you watching me, as I make long strokes up and down between the lips of
my cunt. My right hand continues to milk at my breast, pinching hard on my
nipples. My head swings back and forth splashing my long blond hair around my
shoulders. Behind me, I know that there is another sculpture of a nude life
size male, standing straight up and with an obvious erection. He is
uncircumcised, and the ridges of his skin are polished yet textured. He is
made of glistening bronze. Without looking back, I shuffle my feet, gradually
propelling myself backward until I feel the cold hard metal phallus on my
rear. I lean forward and grasp my knees, then ever so slowly let my weight
shift backwards, and the bronze cock of this ancient god gradually spreads my
labia and then penetrates up into my vagina. Again, the extreme contrast of
hot and cold. It sends shivers up my spine, and one hand reaches down to
stoke my clitoris. I can feel allof the hard folds of skin and the raised
veins on this god's magnificent cock.
When I look up at you, your fist is around your hard cock, and you are
jacking yourself off. Sternly, I command you to stop doing that, that you
must save all of that for me. Although you seem surprised by my
determination, you nevertheless follow orders, and you place your hands on
the outside of your thighs, gripping the stone thighs of the woman you are
seated upon. Your cock glistens from the precome that you have drawn out and
onto your cock. I make a few slow thrusts back and forth on the god-cock and
it feels so good. The metal is warming and is so slick with my watery juices.
The smell of my sex is all around me. Then I pull off of the cock, and lean
over to it and lap up some of the wet coating.
Now I come over to you, and climb up the sculpture. Facing away toward the
silent god the that I have just finished fucking, I straddle your legs and
drop down all at once onto you cock. It seems to be just as hard as the
god-cock, but it certainly is not as cold. I'm still wide open from being
fucked by the god (no -- I guess that I fucked him, didn't I?), so your long
cock goes all the way in without any real resistance. There is now stopping
me now, as I've got my second wind. Your hands grasp my hips firmly, and we
work together to lift and drop me, up and down, in and out. My breasts are
swinging around wildly. My hands are on your knees for balance, and I look
down to see your beautiful wet cock revealing itself and then hiding away,
again and again. My swollen cunt lips wrap themselves around it, trying to
pull you back in each time you pull out. Below are your hairy balls, covered
with my dripping juices. And below your balls are the stone balls of the man
underneath all of this frenzied action. Another contrast: the absolute
stillness of the sculpture, and the abandonment of our coupling above.
Since your grip on my waist is obviously firm, I reach down with one hand and
start fondling your balls, and with the other I go back to rubbing and
pinching my nipples. Your balls are wonderfully sensitive, I discover,
because after only a few seconds of my treatment, you are already orgasming.
As you start bucking around in ecstasy, I need to reach above me to hold
onto the head of the woman above us. I pull myself upward and hold my
position as you thrust upward several more times, and then fall backwards,
your cock slipping out.
You look dazed, but I still haven't gotten to have my orgasm. I'm certainly
not going to leave that situation remedied, so I pull you up and take up a
new position on the sculpture. I lean my torso forward onto the woman's
thigh, and my head rests just in front of the commingled crotch, my lips
almost within reach of the stone man's balls. My rear is positioned just over
the woman's knee, and I tell you to let your mouth pleasure me. You stand on
the floor, and your head is right at the level of my cunt. As you stare at my
swollen cunt and imbibe the strong aroma of our juices, I squeeze my cunt
muscles a couple of times, and I can feel your pearly semen slipping out and
down onto the stone. But I don't want to wait, and I insist that you get to
work.
Your first few licks are hesitant, and I realize you aren't as used to
tasting a man's come as I am. But it doesn't take you too long to get into
the swing of it, and pretty soon you are lapping in long swipes that start on
my clitoris and end up all the way up to my coccyx. It's a dreamy feeling,
but eventually I ask you to concentrate on my clitoris. Which you do eagerly.
Our combined juices are still dripping down onto your tongue and then I feel
two of your fingers push into me. I can hear the squishing sounds as your
fingers probes around, and I describe to you where my G spot is. After a few
attempts, you find it and I encourage you to rub it firmly with a circular
motion. I reach behind me and pull my ass cheeks apart so that you can have
total free access. Your thumb lightly caresses my asshole. My clitoris, my
cunt, and my asshole are all being stimulated at once, and I add to this by
massaging my breasts into the stone woman's thigh. I stare ahead into the
joining of the woman's cunt with the man's balls. As I stretch my tongue out
to lick at the cold juncture between the two of them, you nibble down hard on
my clitoris and suck my labia up into your mouth. That's perfect, and I
immediately go over the edge and into an incredible orgasm. I'm coming and
coming. I squeeze down hard on my ass cheeks with my hands. Wave after wave
washes over me, and your fingers vibrates over my g spot. I gulp in air
between the electric pulses of each pounding wave, and my cunt clenches down
on your fingers. I feel my asshole palpitating around the tip of your thumb.
My orgasm lasts for so long,......... until finally it subsides, and I take a
moment to get my wits about me. Then I push your face and hands away and
give you a deep kiss, sliding my tongue deep into your mouth. Then, I
quickly hop down off the sculpture, and while you stand there in shock, I put
on my clothes and walk away, through the door. Just before I step into the
elevator, I shout back to you that I'll be in Geneva all next week and I'm
guessing that we'll meet there. It will be your turn to be in control.
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