JENNIE

The greeter who stands by the front entrance gives me an appreciative look. Because I'm dressed for attention, I don't mind it. He wishes me a nice afternoon after I slip cash into the donation box.

The Nelson is impressive and beautifully designed. The tapping of my heels echoes in the foyer, and I smile at the sound. I enjoy wide open spaces for that reason. I make my way down the long hallway and wander into the room of Italian Baroque artwork. I sit on the bench and lose myself in a giant Caravaggio painting. I don't know how long I've been sitting here, but a person drifts into my peripheral vision, interrupting my concentration on Saint John the Baptist in the Wilderness.

"They say he killed a man."

I look up and see the most gorgeous woman standing in front of me. My irritation at the interruption fizzles once I look into eyes so beautifully brown they render me speechless. I can only smile. She looks at the painting. "It was a cop. So even hundreds of years ago when cops were probably more corrupt than they are now, it was still a really bad idea to kill one."

She's confident and borderline cocky. I lean back and look her up and down. I like what I see—tall, attractive, and very interested.

I wait to answer her until I see a flash of doubt that she's read me wrong cross her face. She hasn't. Delivery is key. I smirk and tilt my head. "I have a lot of cop friends."

"So do I," she says.

Game on. She rocks back on her heels and turns. "Any other favorites here?"

I nod at a Rubens on the other wall. She walks over to it and studies the information plaque, which gives me time to look at her.

She is tanned and fit with an energy brimming off her that I'm drawn to. "He's very sensual," she says.

I stand and purposely slow my step so that she takes the time to notice me. The clip of my heels echoes in the room. My approach is unmistakable. I don't stop until I'm in her personal space. She bites her bottom lip and stares at my mouth. I wonder if she likes my lipstick. I look at the painting. "He's known for adding color when others dared not to." She makes a noise as if agreeing with me. I lean closer and whisper, "I want to touch it."

She looks surprised at first and whispers back. "If the guard wasn't there, you could touch anything you wanted to."

Heat flashes across me as her warm breath brushes my cheek.

I want to touch her. I want to put my hands on her broad shoulders and feel her strong arms around me. I touch her forearm instead.

Her muscles instantly tighten under my fingers. I've never been this bold before.

"Maybe if you distract him, I could get away with it." I put my hands on my hips and lift an eyebrow, challenging her.

She looks at the guard and back at me. "What if the alarm goes off?"

"Then we run." It probably isn't a good idea for me to get into trouble the day before I take the bench, but our chemistry is off the chart, and doing something wrong feels right with her.

"In those?" She points at my red heels.

"You'd be surprised what I can do in these."

"Do tell."

"There isn't anything I can't do in my heels. Sometimes I wear them and nothing else." I don't know where my boldness is coming from. And how does this woman pick up my fuck-me vibe so quickly?

I look at the Rubens again. Touching something so beautiful that's hundreds of years old would be a dream come true. The stranger nods at me and walks to the guard. I watch them interact and realize she's distracting him. I look around and once the proverbial coast is clear, I reach out and quickly brush my fingertips across the corner of the painting. The texture is both rough and smooth. I wink at her and shiver at the look she gives me.

She returns to my side. "Was it worth it?" She smiles, and straight white teeth peek out from behind full lips.

I hold my dress out and curtsy. "Thank you." I lean in because she smells fresh and woodsy. Her dark hair sweeps across her forehead, and I have an urge to brush it back with my fingers. She looks at me with hunger, and I swallow hard at how intense her stare is. "Let's go to the next room. They all can't have guards."

She motions for me to go ahead of her. I walk slowly and deliberately, knowing she's watching me. Although she's playful, she's tense. I feel her energy behind me. I swell with excitement at the possibilities. She passes me and directs me into a room.

"What's your favorite wing here in the museum? I'd love to see it with you." She slides her hands in her pockets, drawing my attention to her crotch. She's packing. The unmistakable outline of her strap-on is visible behind the zipper of her khakis. I feel weak in the knees knowing that I'm going to get fucked soon. I lick my lips and turn my gaze to meet hers.

"I like it all," I say.

"All of it?"

For a moment, she seems unsure. Her sexy smile is crooked, and her eyebrow is slightly hitched, as if she's waiting for my consent. I don't hesitate. "Every last inch." Her smile grows, and she bites back a small laugh.

"Well, then we have a lot more to see."

She follows me out of the room, only this time she's closer. I can feel her body heat. I lead her to the American colonial wing, where the rooms are dark, with roped-off displays. I bite my bottom lip and follow the makeshift wooden path that's there to add authenticity to the room. It leads to a cut-away of a typical American homestead log cabin featuring a table with two chairs, a fireplace with a large cauldron hanging over it, and a bed covered with animal pelts. Her mouth is inches from my ear as we take in the scene before us.

"Not a very comfortable bed," she whispers.

I bend down to pretend to read the information on the plaque and feel the full length of her dildo as my ass brushes her crotch. I don't move. Neither does she. I close my eyes and try hard not to push back into her, into her cock, so I stand instead. This seduction is a marathon, not a sprint. I feel her warm hand on the small of my back. "Life back then must have been…um…hard." I can't look at her. I'm too close to dropping to my knees to satisfy her, and this is a very public place. I move on to the next display. She touches me this time, running her fingers up and down my arm. I lean over to read the plaque, and she holds my waist and slowly pulls me against her.

Her fingers are long and dig into my hips. I hear her moan softly, and my confidence grows. She keeps me flush against her when I stand.

"What does it say?" she asks.

I reach back and touch her thigh. Her breath hitches at my touch, and her muscles twitch under my fingers. I turn my head so our faces are close, but she doesn't kiss me. "The diet of the early American settler was rough." I silently beg her for a kiss, a touch, her hands on my body, but she's teasing me. Fine. Two can play this game."Let's go to the next one."

I break the connection, missing the heat of her body against mine. I turn and can't help but look at her crotch. I swallow hard.

It's big, and I'm growing wet just thinking about her deep inside of me. She walks to me, her eyes never leaving mine, and stands behind me again. I lean into her this time as she snakes her arm around my waist as though I might flee. I'm not going anywhere. I grind against her, hard. She splays her fingers on my stomach just below my breasts.

"What does this one say?"

I feel her tongue tracing the outside of my ear. Her mouth is hot, wet, and I want it all over my body. I moan out of desire and frustration and rub up against her. "I have to bend over to read the plaque." She places her hands on my hips and unabashedly grinds into me. We both moan. Damn, she feels so good. I try to tell her what the plaque says, but I can't. We've crossed the line, and we either need to create space or find somewhere to fuck. She must be reading my mind.

"Perhaps we should find a more private place."

She releases me just as an attendant saunters into the room. We nod at her and slowly leave the colonial wing as if we were in there admiring the art when, in fact, I can't remember a single thing about it. She walks behind me, and I catch her looking at my ass and legs.

I smirk at her and lead her into one of the Impressionist rooms. She stops at a Monet and smiles. I'm curious as to what she's thinking.

I'm thinking about sex. Maybe she's not done looking at art.

"Is this your favorite?" I admire her strong jawline and the corded muscles of her forearms. I notice tiny beads of sweat at her temples even though it's cold in here. I can't wait to mold myself against her and feel her sweaty body against mine.

She seems embarrassed by my question. "If I said yes, that would make me like every other person." She slides her hands in her pockets again, and my eyes are immediately drawn back to her crotch. I almost lick my lips in anticipation.

"You smiled when we walked in here."

She stares at me. "I smiled because the view makes me happy."

Oh, she's good. My heart speeds up at the unguarded look of pure lust she shoots me. The energy inside me bubbles up. I have to expel it, so I walk into the next room. She follows, but instead of walking with me, she sits on a bench. Her eyes never leave me.

The other patrons in the room nod at me as we cross paths and smile cordially at each other. Once they leisurely stroll into other rooms, and it's just me and her, I lean over her, putting one hand on her thigh and the other on the armrest. My cleavage is inches from her face, and her appreciation of it is obvious.

"It's too bad the contemporary art wing is under construction," I say.

She touches my neck and runs her fingers over my full bosom.

Her touch is so light, but each finger delivers a delicious shock that races through my already charged body. When her finger brushes my bottom lip, I suck it into my mouth and twirl my tongue around it. My intent is obvious. I see the delight in her eyes and how her hips twitch with each suck on her finger. She moves my hand from her thigh and puts it on her cock. I feel how long and thick it is and want it inside of me.

"Shall we go make sure that it's still under construction?" She stands. I don't move. My hand is trapped between us, and I stroke her. She slips her hand into mine and leads me away. I'm done with the teasing. I want her inside me. I take charge and march us to a staircase that's closed to the public. She pulls me back to her.

"I need to taste you," she says. She touches my cheek softly, then crushes her mouth against mine.

She tastes warm and like spearmint. I don't even try for control. I'm ready for anything she wants. Her body vibrates against mine as though she's struggling to restrain herself. She's sexy and demanding, and I know I'll do anything to satisfy her. Her fingers slip under the straps of my dress, and I silently beg her to rip them down and free my breasts. My nipples ache from straining against the tight fabric.

I hear footsteps getting closer and pull away from her, panting hard. We freeze and stare at one another. She's disheveled and sexy as fuck. Two buttons are undone on her shirt, and I don't know if I unbuttoned it or she did. She unclips the Do Not Enter chain barrier, and we quickly but quietly descend the stairs. She's several steps behind me, obviously watching me.

There's a powder room down here that I've always thought would be the perfect place for a tête-à-tête. I find the bathroom and pull her inside. I'm relieved to find the couch, chaise, and wingback chairs weren't moved during the construction. "There are cameras down here, but not in this room." I know because this has always been my fantasy—public sex.

She cups my elbow and walks into me until my back is flush against the door. I almost swoon at her command over me, over us.

I look at her expectantly. She rubs my lipstick off with the pad of her thumb so she can kiss me again. Before she can, I turn and place my hands above the door in a gesture of surrender. I gasp when she drops to her knees. Her fingertips press into my calves. I inhale deeply as her warm hands move higher. I whimper when she reaches the back of my thighs and automatically spread my legs.

My panties are soaked. I don't know why I wore any today. I hold my breath and moan when she rips them down. She holds my hand while I step out of them. I rest my forehead against the door and watch as she slips my panties into her pocket. I can only imagine why she wants them, and the thought of her touching herself while smelling me is hot. Her hands slip to the front of my thighs while she flicks her tongue over the back of them. Her hair lightly brushes my ass as she moves closer to my pussy. I push back because I want her tongue inside me or on my clit. She surprises me by spreading my cheeks apart and running her tongue up and down the sensitive strip. When she enters my pussy with two fingers, I moan and clutch the door the best I can. I'm tight at this angle, but I want more of her.

She deepens her thrusts, and I gasp.

"Yes, oh yes." I don't recognize my own voice.

"Do you like this?" Her voice is a growl. I whimper. "Are you ready for my cock?"

"Yes."

She finger-fucks me a few times more before she pulls out. I turn and sag against the door. I watch as she licks me off her fingers, then touches my lips. I suck them into my mouth and moan as I taste sex. She takes my hand and leads me to the chaise lounge, where she sits and moves me to stand between her legs.

"You taste incredible," she says.

"What do you want?" I look at her flushed skin and swollen lips, and the only thing I can think about is her mouth all over my body. My heart speeds up at the lust I see in her eyes. Heat pools between my legs, and I squirm at my body's neediness.

"Turn around."

Excitement leaps in my chest. I lift my eyebrow at her and slowly turn. She unzips my dress and turns me to face her again. I'm afraid to touch her, as if this fantasy will vanish, and I'll be standing alone in this bathroom.

"Now take down your straps."

Her voice is low but commanding. She settles back on the lounge as if I'm going to give her a show. Truthfully, I'd do anything for her. I slowly lower the straps until my breasts are bared. A full smile settles on her lips, and I know she likes what she sees. I massage my breasts and pinch my nipples to relieve some of the ache. It's not enough. I groan in frustration and close my eyes, pretending she's touching me, but it's not the same.

"Open your eyes."

I watch as she leans toward me and sucks one of my erect nipples into her mouth. The shock of her hot mouth sends electricity through me with every pull of her lips. I rake my nails on the back of her neck and push her into me. I need more. She bites, and I hiss as pleasure and pain hit me at the same time. I move her mouth to my other breast.

"Again." It's the only word I can form. She sucks and bites even harder. I cry out as pain and pleasure collide throughout my body."Did I hurt you?"

I cup her chin and make her look at me. "Only in a good way. You have the perfect mouth. Beautiful shape, fantastic ability." I touch her mouth. It is a wonderful instrument, and I'm torn between wanting her lips on my pussy or kissing me. I'm shocked by how much I want her to kiss me, how much I want that connection. It's never been my thing.

"You haven't even experienced the best part yet." She's sure of herself. I am, too.

"I can't wait." I hear her breath catch when I reach for her zipper. I'm trying to go slow, but we both know that's not going to happen. She's already wearing a condom, but I've never liked the flavor of latex, so I peel it off and kneel between her legs. Her mouth is slightly open, and her eyes are almost closed, but I know she's watching me. I look at her before my tongue flicks over the tip of her shaft. Her eyes widen with appreciation, and I feel her shift her hips slightly. I lean my breasts on her thighs and work my mouth up and down the dildo. She smells like sex. "Will you please fuck me now?" I don't even care that I'm begging.

She pulls me into her arms but doesn't kiss me. She points to the chaise instead. "Lie down."

I lie down and spread my legs as far apart as my dress will allow me.

"I want to see your beautiful pussy. Pull your dress up," she says. I do what she commands. I'm naked except for my dress, which is pushed down and pulled up to gather around my waist. She stares at me for a few moments before she adjusts herself between my legs. The head of the dildo glides up and down my wet slit before she presses into me. She is too gentle. I guide her inside and gasp at the thickness. Her body vibrates with what I imagine is anticipation as she waits for me to adjust to every inch. It's big, but I don't want her to stop. I arch my back as she pushes to the hilt, and I cry out.

She holds me steady, carefully, and waits for me to relax.

"Are you okay?" It's sweet that she's worried about me. Her mouth moves down my neck as she waits for my answer.

I stroke her hair and start moving my hips in a circular motion.

"You feel so good." She moans when I push into her. "So good."

She picks up my cue and starts fucking me harder and faster. I feel myself letting go. I need more. She sucks the sensitive skin on my neck and bites down more the faster my hips buck against hers. I cry out with pleasure several times, and she stops. I look at her with confusion.

"You're going to have to be quiet. We don't want anybody catching us."

"I promise I'll be quiet." I'm lying. "Just don't stop." I grab her ass and tilt so she can move faster and harder. I push at her legs and she stops again. I groan with disappointment. My thighs are quivering—a sign that I'm close to orgasm. "Why did you stop?"

"Is this too hard? You're pushing against my thighs." She kisses me deeply, and I whimper with desire. She doesn't know that I like it rough.

"It's so you'll fuck me deeper." That does the trick. She pulls out of me, grabs my hips, and turns me so I'm on my stomach. I smile. She lifts my ass in the air and plunges into me. It's so perfect that I cry out. Tears form in the corners of my eyes, and I brace myself against the arms of the chaise. She pushes deep into me. I feel her sweat drip onto my ass as I push back. My knees rub back and forth against the textured fabric of the cushion. I know they'll be raw, but I don't care. I push myself up on my hands and throw my head back in pure ecstasy. "I'm going to come. Don't stop, don't stop." Our eyes lock in the mirror beside the chaise, and my stomach drops at the look she gives me. I watch her fuck me, and when my orgasm tumbles over me, I yell with abandon and sink onto the couch, gasping for breath. She strokes my back. I stretch out and wait for the aftershocks to roll over me. I have no words to describe what just happened. Amazing, incredible, stunning, unbelievable. I don't know what I did to deserve her, but she's perfect.

"Roll over."

I can't imagine moving right now, but something is so commanding about her that I oblige. She pulls me closer and hooks my knees over her shoulders so her face is inches from my pussy. I should be embarrassed by how wet I am, but I'm proud. She kisses a trail from the inside of my knee to my slit and latches on to my swollen clit with her warm mouth. I tense and focus on not coming immediately. I want this to last, but she can read my needs like nobody I've ever been with before.

She pushes my legs so my knees are up to my chest. I cross my arms under my knees to give her access to every part of me. She touches me everywhere. Her tongue is on me, her fingers inside, and I'm finding it hard to process the pleasure. I don't care who hears me. I don't even care if somebody walks in and watches us. My legs quiver and I tense up. I try to halt my impending orgasm, but I fail. I ride my second orgasm with her face pressed against my pussy. She doesn't stop, but after the third, I give out.

"I can't. I want to, but I can't." I don't recognize my own voice. My legs and arms are too heavy, and I drop them onto the couch. She slides up my sweaty body until we're face to face. She's so beautiful. I touch her flushed cheeks and run my thumb across her bottom lip. Her gray eyes are hooded with passion and her lips swollen, almost bruised. "Kiss me." I don't know why I want her to kiss me so much. She gives me what I want, and for a moment, I allow tenderness to slip inside. Today has been amazing and is still going strong.

"Do you know what I want?" she asks.

Just the question makes my stomach drop in anticipation. "I know what I want again. Are you sore?" I ask. She'd fucked me hard for a long time. Her stamina is amazing, but I'm worried she might be too sensitive.

"More important, are you sore?"

I answer by pressing against her. She smiles at me and readjusts her strap-on. It dawns on me that she hasn't orgasmed. Everything up to this point was for me. The next several minutes is for her. I lift my hips, and she teases me with the tip. I hook my legs around her waist and wait for her to penetrate me. The second she pushes through my tight opening, she moves fast and hard, so fast that I forget everything other than hanging on to her. I watch as she climbs higher, moves faster. When she's close, I pull my knees to my chest to allow her to move freely. She moans her appreciation and drills into me. I'm surprised when my orgasm explodes. She drops on top of me, panting heavily. I run my fingers through her short, sweaty hair and place a small kiss on her forehead.

"I'm squishing you," she says.

She tries to pull away, but I hold her in place because I need her warmth and a tender moment. "Stay. Just for ten more seconds."

"You were very loud. I expect the guards to come busting in any moment."

She makes me laugh, even though the noise I make doesn't sound like myself. "Oh, I was loud? I believe you're the one who just howled." I release her, and she pulls me into her arms and adjusts my dress.

"Do you think we got away with this? Or do you think we're being videotaped and are somebody's entertainment tonight?"

I tamp down the panic that squeezes my chest at her questions.

Tomorrow, I take the bench as an honorable judge, but today? I'm a woman who just had incredible sex. I walk to the mirror to adjust my dress and check my makeup. I smirk at her in our reflection.

"We were definitely my entertainment." She winks and puffs out her chest at my compliment. She hands me my purse and adjusts her package and her clothes while I pull out a cigarette and matches. I light the cigarette and inhale deeply.

She quickly masks her surprise. "Share?"

I hand it to her. She takes a few drags and hands it back. We smoke in silence. I'm lost in the recent memories. She's quiet, too.

I catch her staring at me several times. She looks like she wants to say something but remains quiet. It's probably for the best. We don't need to complicate this incredible afternoon with words or promises we won't keep. She runs her fingertips over the swell of my breasts.

"So soft. So lovely," she says.

The flutter in my stomach at her appreciative words makes me uncomfortable. I need to get away from her. I extinguish the cigarette under a stream of water and throw it away. "Shall we?" I don't wait for her. I open the door and walk out. She follows me but is a few steps behind. Before we reach the foyer, I feel her fingers gently grasp my elbow, and I stop.

She pulls me back against her body and rests her hands below my breasts. Her thumbs rub the bare skin of my cleavage.

"Thank you." Her words are almost a whisper against my ear.

I turn in her embrace and look at her as though I'm seeing her for the first and last time. Her strong jawline and disheveled hair tug at something inside me, and I know I need to get away from her right now before I do something dumb like give her my name or phone number. "No, thank you." I run my fingers down her shirt and walk away. It's the perfect afternoon and exactly what I needed.