Chapter 23

The art museum named after the heiress's family had a unique and interesting modernist design, rounded, almost circular with galleries flowing together instead of walled in. The crème of Manhattan society attended the opening. I searched for artists and found few. I only knew fashion photographer. He introduced me to his beautiful new boyfriend. We chatted long enough to let him know where I lived and about the photography teacher who had seen our show. He abandoned me to the crowd, and I introduced myself to a couple distinguished couples. Neither interested me, but seemed nice enough and intelligent. I bumped into an ex-client, the old rich shy one. We chatted briefly. She finally divorced her queer gold digger husband and remained unattached. Her delicate fantasy destroyed, neither of us wanted it restored. She looked sad and lonely, but had friends including the pixie accompanying her husband. The pixie winked and smiled at me unembarrassed at my presence, but didn't risk conversation.

And then I saw the blonde beauty. Without her husband there, a queer couple surrounded her. When she spotted me spotting her, she waved me over. After introducing me to her handsome middle aged friends, they continued their amusing, cynical discussion. I felt left out and began retreating. She noticed and excused herself.

We found a less busy spot to chat. We stood in front of one of the Estonian's paintings. I asked her what she thought and felt relieved she liked it. I told her about my relationship, the conversations and the funeral and wake. I expressed concern about hogging the conversation. "We can talk about me later," she said. "But before you continue, let me tell you I talked to our friend." She meant the old flapper. "She told me about your book, the diet book, and that the co-author stays in Montauk with her. You know when we moved here from Belle Air, we moved to the Hamptons. I live only a short distance away!"

"How are you getting home?" I asked.

"I have a room at the Plaza. Have you ever been there?" I hadn't. "Would you like to?" My penis hardened instantly.

"I'd love to," I said. We looked into each other's eyes and back at the painting.

"Tell me about it," she said. Daringly, she took my hand.

I explained the power of the gesture, and let it take me through the painting to another painting from the previous century in the next room and then to my epiphany and how it made me want to work with film and inspired the Vase.

"You know I never slept with an artist before," she whispered.

"Why not?" I asked.

"I've never slept with any man since I got married and only one before him."

"You're so beautiful," I said. "You could have anyone."

"I don't want anyone, and any man in my life has been interesting but queer. I can pick them, that's for sure. Like I told you, my husband and I still have sex. It's enough I guess, though it's been longer than usual." She squeezed my hand. "I'm afraid I'm not as attractive as I once was."

"You're the most beautiful woman I have ever seen," I said.

"Thanks, but my body needs to be taken care of. I never exercise and I eat too much. It's catching up. I want to meet your friend. I'm told her body is exquisite."

"It is," I said.

"Lucky boy," she said.

"I am, but not like you think," I said.

"You mean being in love," she said.

"You remember."

"Why does she let you do this? I'd want you all to myself." Her eyes looked hot. I smelled her desire. It made me harder. "Let's go," she said.

We passed through the throng. I looked for the secretary, spotting her in a group of strangers. "Just a second," I said to the beautiful blonde.

"I'll meet you outside," she said.

Pulling the secretary from her group I asked about the heiress. "She's extremely busy," said the secretary. "I don't mind. I'm enjoying myself."

"I'm glad. I'm going."

"So soon?" she asked.

"I have a date."

"Always working, aren't you?" she said smiling. "I wish I could join you. I've been promised fun later, the whole weekend in fact. By the way, your dress is a hit. I told the women a friend made it for me. They wanted your number." She giggled.

"Did you give it to them?"

"I didn't know if I should."

"You could tell them about our fitting, how I measured inside and out, and how pleasurable the measuring got and if they needed such a pleasant measuring, then they could call me."

"Do I get a finder's fee?" asked the amused secretary.

"What do you suggest?"

"Free sessions?"

"Okay."

"Okay."

"What about the heiress? She can't know," I suggested.

"I'll tell them to keep the secret or else it wouldn't happen."

"Don't do it if it makes you uncomfortable."

"It'll be fun."

"Naughty girl," I said, and gave her a quick kiss. "Gotta go."

"See you Monday. Thanks for ... everything."

I bowed. She chuckled.

"Sorry," I said to the blonde beauty.

"That's fine. It's beautiful out. I needed cooling."

"Don't get too cool," I said as the Morris pulled up. "Should I tip the valet?"

"He won't mind," said the beauty entering the passenger seat. I gave him a five which seemed plenty gauging his reaction.

We headed to the Plaza. She seemed nervous. "So you want to come to Montauk with me tomorrow?" I asked.

"Please," she said.

"Are you okay?"

"This is new."

"We don't have to do anything. I'd still like to see the Plaza." Amusing her helped.

"You better do something," she said unsteadily and grabbed my hand. I had to shift so it couldn't last. Despite its cool dampness it felt good.

At the Plaza, I handed the keys to a uniformed gentleman to park. The beauty headed quickly inside. I followed several fast paces behind but slowed when she gestured to. The elevator arrived and my timing had me there seconds afterwards. She told the operator her floor and I said as if surprised, "Me too." When we got off we went opposite directions until the elevator closed and then I followed her to her room.

"I didn't need a suite," she said, entering the small but opulent room.

"Cheapskate," I teased.

"Should we have room service?"

"I'll hide in the bathroom," I said.

"I'm sorry about that. I stay here a lot. The less they know the better. Room service is used to anything, so no." She handed me the heavy menu. I rested it on the Queen Size bed and we sat close sharing it.

"A T-bone sounds good," I said. "I need my strength." She giggled. I nuzzled her ear,

"Mmm," she said. "I better start my diet. Antipasto I guess and some red wine." She flipped to the wine section and picked one that cost more than a week in a regular hotel.

"Antipasto for two sounds perfect," I said.

"You can have whatever you want," she said.

"Can I?" I said, and kissed her. She kissed back, tossing the menu onto the floor and pushing me on the bed and straddling me. I reached behind and unzipped her haute couture gown. Her arms came out and I undid her bra and she let it flop off. My hands caressed the two treasures, heavy and full and holding well.

"Yes you can," she said, undoing my shirt. I unbuckled my pants and unzipped, pulling them down but leaving the boxers. She rose up, let the dress fall to her feet and stepped out. Her midriff appeared thick and loose with fat, not unpleasantly but enough to notice. Her breasts stood proud though, two pale orbs at the bottom bringing a pear to mind as they curved up to her chest, a couple of extra large pears. She knelt down and removed my shoes and socks and pants. She stood and we resumed kissing. My hands found what pleased her breasts. She liked a bit of pressure squeezing them and her nipples. She liked it a lot. Her panties and my boxers remained hiding our sexes. She moved her groin against my hardness, pressing harder each stroke. I broke the kiss and began tentative nibbles at her nipples. I found her threshold when she flinched and worked within it. "Oh god," she said, and pulled down my shorts and hers and threatened to climb on.

"Wait," I said. She kept climbing. I tossed her onto the bed and dove right for her center, sucking her clit while mauling her nipples. She climaxed seconds later, bellowing her pleasure.

Bouncing off the bed, I fetched a condom, rolled it on and sunk in. Her thighs slightly dimpled with fat wrapped around me and I held her giving butt and pushed deep inside, enjoying the twitter of her inner flesh and the heat. Then I fucked slow, gazing at her remarkable face until she pulled me down for another endless kiss. Rising high with each stroke, I ended up straddling her thighs and she squeezed them together to give more friction. Her hips rolled under me, setting a faster tempo. My hands released her buttocks and grabbed her breasts and played hard with them, causing her to squirm and releasing our mouths to breathe shallow breaths. We climbed together to orgasm, hers arriving first as I stabbed through it and surged forward and ejaculated deep.

Lying on top of her, her thighs opened and my legs between, she sighed and said, "You don't have to wear a rubber. I got a hysterectomy. My daughter nearly killed me coming out."

"I like to be safe."

"Are you clean?"

"Except for two women, my girlfriend and our friend, I always wear a rubber."

"I haven't fucked my husband in months," she said. "He gave me gonorrhea once. Blamed it on me. I told him if he keeps fucking whores, he should be more careful. It took us awhile to recover from that. And you're not a whore."

"How do you know?"

"Because I can see the love in our friend's eyes. You make love, you don't just fuck."

"What we just did..."

"Was exactly what I needed. Let's order room service. I'm going to need my strength too."

She ordered two steaks and two salads and the expensive red wine. Tossing me the hotel robe, she pulled a light slinky one from her luggage. She could have lost a few pounds, but I liked watching her move naked and the robe hid little. Her body accentuated everything. I felt my penis rise and she saw it. "Mmm," she sighed and her mouth engulfed it. She proved brilliant at felatio and had me rock hard in a minute. I placed her pussy at my mouth to return the favor. We leisurely built the pleasure until a knock on the door delayed it. She chickened out and had me hide in the bathroom while the room service guy did his thing, ignoring the suspiciousness of two dinners and two glasses. I guess she had to keep my identity a mystery.

Somehow we concentrated on food. It and the wine tasted wonderful. We toasted our meeting and chatted easily. I got her to laugh a couple times, enjoying her rolling breasts.

Halfway through my steak I pushed it aside and got down on my knees and performed cunnilingus. She pushed her chair from the table and held me with her hands, staring down into my eyes. "Fuck me," she demanded, spreading her legs wide. I knee walked between them and rose a couple inches. She guided the head and once targeted I pushed in. She moaned throughout my steady fucking, cumming again as I chewed on a nipple. "Bed" she muttered, her legs and arms clinging to me as I lifted her. She carried weight, but I managed to get to the edge of the bed and we scooted on it with remarkable choreographic skill. My finger slid into her anus feeling my cock thrusting. My other hand abused her breasts. She kept clutching me around my neck so our breaths blew hot and fast into each other's ears. When she reached another climax she let go of me and bellowed, allowing my ear some distance. Her last cum triggered a frenzy of piston like movements as my testes filled with sperm. I kept it going for longer than I thought I could, waiting for her next big orgasm. When it arrived I shoved deep and pushed pubic bone against pubic bone and my whole body throbbed with my throbbing penis.

"Oh god it's so hot, your cum, oh fuck," she wailed and collapsed, breathing heavy. Her fair chest and face blushed scarlet. After recovering we smiled and chuckled. "Let's finish eating," she suggested.

"I wish I could have you all to myself," she said after a long kiss. The dinner plates sat empty except for bones and we swallowed the last of the wine. She straddled me and stared into my eyes. My penis remained flaccid, pooped out for the moment. It didn't bother her. Her mouth's restorative ability had been proven. "When you stopped eating and ate me, my heart burst with joy. I felt so sexy and desirable. My husband knows how to make me cum. He's a handsome man, not beautiful like you, but absolutely handsome. Do you mind me saying that?" I shook my head. "But you ... I never experienced a better fuck. Do you know why? Because not just my eyes and my heart and my body experienced pleasure, my mind felt it too. And yes, my heart loving you. I know we're strangers, but to communicate at so many levels, I can't help it. I love you."

"I can't..." I began. Her finger gently pressing my lips, followed by her mouth stopped me.

"Promise you won't abandon me. I know I can't have you all to myself. I mean I could I suppose offer you anything you want. Anything. I am obscenely rich. But I can't buy you. I can't be that selfish. You love someone and you don't love me."

"I don't love easily," I said. "Only one person and that's all I can. I can't stop you loving me. I know our friend does. I can promise enjoying our time together thoroughly. I really like you. You make me hard just looking at you. And talking makes me feel close and loving. I know what you're saying. It makes everything else stronger. I feel that rush just talking. It's a feeling I get when conversation flows naturally and beautiful and brilliantly rich. I've felt it with men and women; mostly women because my friends are mostly women. It feels like love, but it's just a moment. Having it connected to sex makes sex fantastic. I've had that too. I have it with my girlfriend and its definitely part of my love for her. But I won't love you, not in the total sense. I can't.

"But I want you to promise me you won't abandon me."

"What do you mean?"

"I want you in my life. I want this. I want to call you and talk for hours like kids do. I want you to be with me often. I don't know how often. I don't want a routine. I want it to be spontaneous."

"You know I live upstate. I'll be in the city every Friday and probably Thursday too. You can come visit me. Or we could meet in Montauk."

"Where are you staying in the City?"

"I'm not sure. Probably at the princess's apartment, although sleeping on the couch will get old."

"Stay here," she said.

"What about..."

"I don't care. My husband sleeps around. I have proof. I'll get an extra key."