I escaped to one of the back porches, overlooking a fully illuminated koi pond, but I could still hear the sounds of deals being made and stock tips being bandied around inside the huge bayfront house.
A wildlife artist, I originally got into art to meet women, having heard that artistic women put out. Somewhere along the way, though, I actually got good at drawing. The members of the Art Board had talked me into donating two prints to this fund raiser. Both had just gotten auctioned.
I studied the swimming koi, contemplating drawing them. Then I heard the French doors opening behind me. “Pardon, me,” said a soft, polished, feminine voice. “Would you happen to have a light, Sir?”
She was about 25, beautiful, busty, and blonde, with a smile that grew with the length of my stare. She held a long, thin cigarette between her fingers. As I rolled the wheel on my Zippo she caught my hand in both of hers. The first thing I noticed, when I could tear my eyes from hers, was a wedding ring with a five-carat diamond solitaire sticking up from it.
When she leaned forward to accept the light, my eyes drifted farther south to an even larger rock attached to a gold chain. That lucky diamond was hanging between a pair of young, high, impossibly firm breasts.
She glanced up past the now-glowing tip of her cigarette. Making sure that I knew she was doing it, she gently swayed from side to side, making that chunk of ice swing between her breasts. As the imprints of her nipples grew in her green gown, the diamond slapped against the inside curve of each mound.
“Thanks,” she said as she finally straightened her body. “I need this.”
My husband doesn’t approve of my smoking.” I watched as she took in the first drag, her eyes half closing, her lips caressing the tip of the cigarette. Her deep blue eyes were still locked on mine, her fingers moving along the shaft of the cigarette as she held it. When she pulled it from her lips, her bright red lipstick had marked the tip.
She paused, her thumb rolling around the filter in slow, sensual circles. She smiled again, throwing back her head. She drew the tobacco smoke in deep, licking her soft, red lips once more before exhaling the gray trail of smoke in a long, slow emptying of her lungs.
“That’s nice, Doug,” she said.
“Do I know you?” I asked. How did she know my name?
“Oh, I think we’ve noticed each other a few times at events like this,” she said. She was right.
Her name was Laura, she said, and she was married to one of the City Commissioners, a man rapidly closing in on 50. She was interested in becoming more active in the Bay Area art community, in becoming a patron of the arts, so to speak, “especially with good-looking young artists like you.
“Oh, by the way, Doug,” she added a moment later, touching the cigarette to her lips again,
“smoking isn’t the only thing I do that my husband doesn’t approve of.”
Laura guided me upstairs to an empty bedroom. Our first kiss was long and deep, a wet dance of two tongues twirling together that made me as hard as a rock. That formal, jade-green gown fell to the floor seconds before I pushed her back on the bed. As I suspected, she was completely naked underneath, and those breasts were way too wonderful to be natural.
She was the perfect California trophy wife—young, tall, and thin, a blonde by choice, carrying about $8,000 worth of silicone in her gorgeous breasts, and totally shaved where it counted most. Her body was tight and toned, her navel pierced with a gold ring, a tattoo of a dolphin jumping over her bellybutton.
That baby-smooth, hairless pussy drew me down. I kissed each nipple along the way, then petted the dolphin with my tongue. I spread Laura’s legs with my hands, caressed her thighs.
I ran the tip of my tongue up through the tight folds of her outer pussy-lips. She tasted sweet, the juices flowing as her pussy-lips parted. She was obviously enjoying the oral attention, and I was having a great time. I was all set for some serious pussy-eating, but she stopped me. “Mmmm,” she purred. “No. I want to do you first. I want to suck your cock.”
Laura knew her way around a pair of men’s pants. She quickly had my trousers down around my ankles, and my cock out the fly of my shorts. She reached to the ashtray at the side of the bed, taking one more drag on the still-burning cigarette before crushing it out. She took my cock in her hands, cupping my balls and holding my cock the same way she had just held her cigarette.
She licked her lips, then blew out all that smoke in teasing puffs over the full, throbbing length of my cock. Smiling, she touched the shiny red softness of her mouth against the head of my cock. The tip of her pink tongue came out, wetting the pebbly flesh of my spongy cockhead in wild circles of pure delight.
“Is this one of those things your hubby wouldn’t approve of you doing?” I groaned as her tongue lolled over my achingly hard cock.
“No,” Laura purred as her lips brushed over the head, leaving red lipstick marks and streaks of glistening moisture on my stiff flesh. “I don’t think my husband would approve of my doing this at all.”
“Well, I do,” I groaned. “I like it a lot, so don’t stop!”
Laura moaned appreciatively as her lips parted. She looked up into my eyes and drew me in deep, her eyes rolling back the same way they did with that first drag of tobacco smoke on the porch. Her tongue swirled as she rode my cock, her sweet mouth hot and wet and wild all at the same time.
Laura was one divine cocksucker; an artist in her own right. In seconds I was ready to come, ready to fill her mouth with a hot blast of the juicy white stuff. I ripped off my jacket and shirt. Holding her head in my hands, I pumped her mouth, driving the head of my cock deep into that pretty face until I could feel the back of her throat. She moaned again, showing me how much she was enjoying sucking me. She looked up into my eyes, silently urging me on.
I thought that she was thirsty for my cum right then, and I was more than ready and very eager to provide. But again, Laura surprised me. She squeezed the base of my hard-on, doing a trick to stay my impending eruption. This was a 25-year-old woman who knew exactly how to stop a man from shooting his load.
“Easy, baby,” she groaned, giving my cockhead one last, wet kiss. “I want you to fuck me.”
As she pulled back, a bubble of pre-cum burst against her lips. It strung out, turning that drop into a glistening rope of lust from her lips to the head of my cock. With a grin, Laura licked up the juice and wiggled her finger for me to join her on the bed.
“Yes, Ma’am,” I said to my new art patron.
Laura fell back onto the bed, spreading her legs. Her pussy was open now, the butterfly-like outer lips swollen and shiny with lubrication. As I kicked off my shoes, I couldn’t help kissing it again. This time she let me devour her pussy for a bit longer. Her clitty rose up to meet my tongue, and as I flicked over it, Laura’s hands pulled my face deep into her slippery, wet slit.
I licked her clit until she shuddered over me in orgasm. I caught her joy-button between my lips, lashing away with little flicks until she came a second time. Her hands turned into claws, dragging me up over that luscious, toned, undulating body.
I kicked the pants to my tuxedo free and got my shorts off, staring all the while at that shaved pussy I wanted to ram deep into. Laura grabbed my cock, guiding me into her hot, sweet slit. I groaned, feeling her slippery tightness gripping my driving cock as I pushed all the way into her body.
Her arms went around my neck, her legs rising to grip my body. As she squeezed, she pulled me in even deeper. Inside, the body of this rich man’s trophy wife was as tight as it was on the outside. She was wet and fiery hot, her pussy clutching at my cock as I began pumping it in and out. Laura moaned into my shoulder, kissing and biting my flesh as her breath came out in rhythmic grunts.
“Fuck me,” she kept groaning. “Fuck me. Make me come again, baby. Ooh, god, fuck me!”
I did, and she did, and soon I joined her. Laura’s sweet pussy clamped down over my throbbing cock, sucking the cum all the way up from my balls. As it hit, Laura’s eyes rolled back into her pretty face, and for a few seconds I was afraid that one of us was going to pass out from sheer delight. Seconds later, with her head on my shoulder, I watched as Laura lit another cigarette. I’ve always had a thing about watching women smoke. There is something about that act that pushes my go button. Even though I had just dumped a huge load inside one of the sexiest women I’ve ever known, the sight of Laura’s lips caressing that white shaft, the way her tongue moved over those soft lips, the way she so obviously loved the sensations of smoking, all of that turned me on. To my surprise my cock started moving, flipping over and swelling against my thigh.
But was it prudent to start up again? “Don’t you think we’d better make an appearance at the party?” I said. “We wouldn’t want the host and hostess to wander in here by mistake.”
“Well,” she said as she glanced at the bedside clock. “The host is downstairs, probably in the middle of a fund-raising speech about now. The hostess is watching her new favorite artist’s cock get hard again, and she’s thinking how much fun it would be to make him come in her mouth.”
“Damn,” I laughed. “You live here?”
“Yup, and I’d say we have about 15 minutes before my husband comes looking for me,” she said as she rolled toward me, caressing my chest with her perfect breasts. “Think you’re up for it, big boy?”
“You keeping doing that and I will be,” I laughed.
Laura sat up in the bed, taking one last draw on her smoke. As she rubbed the glowing tip of the cigarette out in the half-filled bedside ashtray, that sexy smile of hers crossed her pretty face again. “Now for some real fun,” she whispered as she crawled between my open legs.