Chapter 4: Museum

Breakfast flew by in the hotel restaurant, where Jackie had another Bailey’s and coffee. I don’t think she intended it but the coffee animated her already perky nature. Her hand wrapped about my arm we left making it to The Smithsonian American Art Museum as it opened. Inside the building Jackie let me lead, unlike at the zoo.

The initial blast of cool air gave the floral dress Jackie was wearing points at each of her tits as well as goosebumps on her otherwise smooth skin. I loved the little shake of her ass as she shivered two steps into the lobby. Two rooms into the museum saw many of the men and some of the women start looking at her and not the artwork on the walls. I couldn’t blame them she was a walking work of art.

I don’t think she noticed the attention as her hips swung while walking down the halls into the different galleries. I did though observe the looks we received. When we got to the next gallery of Greek-inspired artwork and stood in place looking at the first exhibit Jackie shivered slightly. But, she didn’t pull out the shoulder wrap she’d brought. Instead, she stood between me and the exhibit leaning against me. She took my hands and wrapped them around her mid-section pulling them tight. Her body sucked up my heat everywhere we were in contact.

With each theft of my body’s heat, my cock got a little stiffer. I should’ve asked Jackie to stop once my shorts started tenting, but the harder I got the more she innocently wiggled her ass against me. Soon my hard cock and her wiggling ass had stuffed part of her flowing skirt into her ass crack. Ready to move on from “Illusions” by Fuller and “An Eclogue” by Cox I slipped my arms from around her, “Give me a second and we’ll go to the next room.”

I adjusted my hard cock in my shorts as discretely as I could. Jackie nonchalantly yet just as discretely did the same with the lightweight fabric between her cheeks. She teased, “So pictures of naked and nearly naked Roman women get you hard? No wonder you like museums.” She was again compensating for her uneasiness about what we had done.

“Thanks. That is exactly it, paintings as porn. Come on let’s continue. Who knows I may bust a load.” I said. I took her hand leading her forward, despite the red my face filled with embarrassment from talking about cumming.

I was enthralled by the picture on the far wall while Jackie quickly scanned all the paintings. Like she had done in every new gallery room. “We better keep going if you don’t want a mess in your underwear. There is another painting by Cox back here.”

I glanced back at what she was talking about, laughing to myself, “What makes you think I’m wearing underwear.” If she could play at sexual innuendo so could I. She was right it was “Echo” By Cox, which became the first painting I contemplated.

I sat on the provided round cushion facing Jackie’s painting of interest, while she stayed up close to it. I saw her shiver again at the chill in the air. Once again her quake and ass shake captured my attention for a few seconds. She came over and sat in my lap after seeing I wasn’t there to lean against. My hands and arms once again made to encircle her. She said, “I like it.”

“Why does she remind you of you?”

“Right like I’d be naked sitting on a hill.”

“What she’s you. Well change the hair and make it a bit darker and shorter and make her about ten to fifteen pounds lighter and give her better cheekbones and a bit more of a button nose, and she’s you ... On second thought she isn’t you.” I joked

Jackie surprised me. Her hands on the back of mine that had directed my arms around her, moved my hands to cup her breast, “Well she does have my breasts for the most part. See.” Her boldness was not something I had even contemplated. I didn’t know the protocol for what I was allowed while comparing real tits to that on a painting. I gently squeezed the real ones in my hands feeling the firmness of the covered flesh in my hands. As I squeezed I thought I could hear her as she went, “Mmm” though I couldn’t swear to it. She left my hands on her tits and her nipples pressed into my palms even as other people came into the gallery.

My dick hardened to steal at the sensations of her breast. Jackie did little in the way of helping to have it shrink or soften. No, instead she wiggled her ass down on my rod embedding it deeper in her ass crack. And when I wanted to turn to the next picture putting my back to the door blocking the sight of her movements in my lap, she stayed basically attached with my dick in her ass’s fissure and my hands on her tits.

She let out a deep sigh and shivered in my arms once again, though I doubted it was from cold. As I was putting out double my usual heat. Casually she got up without acknowledging any part of having my dick wedge in her ass crack, looking one more time at all the exhibits on the wall, giving my cock time. I appreciated her doing this for us. What I didn’t understand was a lot. She had made me promise no sex. Yet she was doing everything just shy of having me put my dick in her. She didn’t even seem to notice the people in the gallery or care if they just glanced our way they would have seen my hands on her tits. It didn’t make sense to me.

Little did I know it was only the first of ten times she would do this. Sometimes while I was sitting other times while standing, she’d gently grind her ass into my dick in a less than sexual manner and have my hands cup her breast even with other visitors there witnessing what she was doing. It also could have had an innocent reason like staying warm or it could have been an intentional way of getting her tits stimulated. The odd thing was it happened each time there was a nude or we’d just left a nude exhibit when she had gotten a chill. On the times the chill came, and no nudes had been present for a while she would lean into me or sit on my lap, she kept still and my hands down on her stomach.

Having promised no sexual advances before we started the trip, the times my hands were placed on her stomach they never went higher. I gently stroked the woman’s solid mid-section and wrapped my hands around her tiny waist. Only when she placed my hands on her tits did I get to feel the magnificence of them, gently compressing the dress’s fabric into the hot flesh, below. Every time before she lifted my hands away she let out a diminutive moan, while I held my disappointed groan in.

In the nine and half hours we’d gotten through I guessed a little over two-thirds of the museum not once stopping for lunch only drinks. On the walk to the hotel, I stated, “I’d planned on a nice dinner, but my feet are killing me. So I’m thinking I’m gonna order a pizza in. You’re welcome to go out if you like.”

“Oh hell no. I was hoping you wouldn’t want to go out. My feet are killing me as well. I hate that your last night you’re going to stay in though.” She said taking my arm and letting me drag her up the hill.

“I can always come back, right?” I asked, the girl reminding me of my daughter when she was little complaining of her feet hurting and wanting me to carry her.

I was a little surprised, she gave a single-word answer, “Yes.”

The beer selection in the hotel canteen was slim and outrageously expensive, but six of them went up to the rooms with us. The pizza and beer were good but the conversation was better. In the end, she said, “Thank you, again. I didn’t know I’d like a museum so much. It was so interesting and not near as stuffy as I expected.”

“I’m glad you came with me. You made it fun. So thank you.” I said, keeping it G-rated with hints of PG. Putting the empty pizza box outside her door, I headed to my room, freeing her up for a shower, alone. She strolled into my room not bothering to knock on the open door. It was a good thing she came in when she did because I was about to strip down and jump in the shower.

She was still in her floral dress tip-toeing in on her bare feet. The three beers she had went to her head and she was acting childlike giddily. The goofy smile made me ask, “What?”

“What ... What?” she snickered staying on her toes, going over to my bed.

“What is with the goofy smile and the tip-toeing?”

“I was sneaking up on you.”

“Why?”

“Because I could. Plus I remembered something Karen said.” Her hands shot out to my mid-section. Her small hands and fingers actively slid under my un-tucked shirt tickling my bare stomach. Her fingers danced on my skin in her attempt at tickling me. Her attempt was more rambunctious than I think she planned and we ended up on the bed her hands still running up and down my flesh.

“She told you, I’m not ticklish,” I stated, aware of what she had been told but not why she thought to prove it now. And while enjoying the touch of her hands along my skin I pulled them away. “But you thought you’d try anyway.”

“Yes,” She airily laughed not giving up the fight. “I wanted to prove her wrong.”

Jackie didn’t give up easily or quickly. Still holding her hands I said, “Even if you did, you couldn’t tell her. And you forgot one thing.”

“Shoot, what did I forget?” She asked twisting her arms this way and that to get free.

“That while I’m not ticklish, I’m betting you are.” I reversed my hands going out from my body. The mistake registered on her face before she started laughing at the first touch of my hand on her ribs.