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A Day at the Museum

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Redhead

Before I met Kat, I never viewed museums as sexual. Now I can’t walk into one without getting an erection.

It was a simple enough place, a small two story house of historical significance, run by a small foundation. I was just killing time. I had a meeting in a few hours and nothing to do in the meantime. I was walking the streets and noticed the museum. It was only five dollars, so I decided to go in and look around.

It was nothing special. At first. Nobody else was around, so the tour guide took her time, letting me look around and enjoy the rooms as long as I liked. She also didn’t seem to mind me enjoying her low-cut period dress. Somehow, every question required her to bend over right in front of me. She was picking things up, pointing things out. Always close. Always bent forward. I could see right down her dress. I could almost see her nipples.

I could see her watching me watching her. It was clear that she was enjoying my reaction.

It would have ended there. It almost did end there. I finished the tour, thanked her and, as I started to walk out, she put her hand on my arm.

“Please. Come again.”

She put just a little extra emphasis on “come”. Anyone who overheard her would think nothing of it, but the way she squeezed my arm at the same time made it clear what she was implying.

I paused. Looked at her for a moment.

“Will you be here to guide me?”

“I just might be. I work every Tuesday.” She laughed. She licked her lips. A toss of her head. “I’m here right now.”

Her hand was still on my arm. Never breaking eye contact, her other hand slipped up to her neck. She began to caress herself, just above her collarbone. You know the spot.

The invitation was unmistakable.

She began to breathe a little harder as she gazed up at me. I allowed the moment to stretch. Finally, I let my eyes fall to her neck, then down to her cleavage. She noticed and let her hand follow. She began lightly stroking her upper breasts with her fingertips. First kurtköy escort one, then the other. Drawing little circles that captivated me.

I moved closer to her, my right arm naturally finding her waist. She smiled slightly as she melted into me. Watching my face intently, her fingertips dipped under her dress, then out again. Deeper with each repetition. The show was spellbinding.

I felt when she first touched her nipple. It was almost as if an electric spark jumped between us. I pulled her body closer to mine. Hers eyes began to glaze over a little as she touched herself. She was keeping her hand in her dress now, on her nipple. I could see her teasing herself lightly, then pinching and pulling. As she began to squeeze her breast, I lowered my hand to her ass. Even through the skirt, crinoline, and god knows what historically accurate panties she was wearing, I could feel how tight and firm her ass was.

I slipped around behind her, taking her hand out of her dress.

“Isn’t that my job?” She giggled in agreement.

I reached over her shoulder, put my hand inside her dress, and began to tease her nipple. She was soft but firm. Peeking a little, I could see her hard nipple as I worked it. I found the same rhythm she had been using. A little caressing, stroking, and then a pinch, a pull. Caress some more. Squeeze the entire breast. Repeat. And repeat. And repeat.

Her head fell back against my chest, her breath quickening. Her eyes closed.

Through the front window I saw a car pass on the street outside. With a start I remembered we were standing in the foyer of a house, a public museum. I began to back away, but she followed me, keeping our bodies close.

I glanced around, watching the door, looking for her coworkers. Looking for other patrons. I was losing focus on her. This was not a great place to be having an encounter. Her eyes flow open as she apparently came to the same realization.

“Don’t worry,” she laughed. “There’s nobody else here today. My aydıntepe escort boss called in sick and you’re the only visitor.” She took my hand and led me up the stairs into a short hallway. “Nobody can surprise us here!”

Turning, she leaned back against me. She placed my hand back inside her dress. Her breast was just as warm and inviting as before. “I think you were working right there.”

I had been. I continued. She responded, her body tensing, flexing in time with my fingers.

I began to kiss her neck, my other hand across her belly, supporting her. She was shuddering, grinding back against me. I had to lean against the wall to keep my balance.

Suddenly, she lifted her skirt. All the way up to my left hand. “Hold it there,” she whispered. I did as I was told. She opened her legs a little wider, and began to stroke her thighs. I was kissing, biting her neck.

“You can’t leave marks!” She seemed seriously concerned about that, so I lightened up the biting, used my tongue to probe the sensitive points of her neck and shoulders instead. Still caressing, pinching, and squeezing her nipple and breast.

I glanced across the hallway, understanding her intention in bringing me here. Yes, this hallway was quiet. Yes, it was secluded. Yes, it provided privacy. There was also a full length mirror on the opposite wall. I tried to focus on what her fingers were doing. No “historically accurate panties”. In fact, no panties at all. And she was shaved. So much for historical accuracy.

With a little manipulation of the skirt in my left hand, I was able to watch as she pleasured herself.

Her ass was pressing against my stiff cock as she moved to the tempo of her fingers. I pinched her nipple hard and got a little squeak in response. She threw her head back and moaned, “More! More!” That seemed to be the full extent of her vocabulary as I used her sensitive breasts to heighten the pleasure she was giving to herself.

She was alternating between stroking her clit with tuzla içmeler escort her middle finger and sliding her first two fingers inside herself. I squeezed, pinched, stroked along with her, every pinch a little harder than the last. I was looking for her limits, but I never found them. With each pinch she just moaned again. “More! More!”

Her body was bucking, almost spasming, as she approached orgasm. Her eyes were tightly shut and she panted, gasping with every breath. I unbuttoned her dress and fully exposed her breasts. This was for my pleasure. She didn’t even notice. They were lovely. The whole scenario was lovely.

I kept her dress up and out of her way, out of my way too. She was spreading her legs wider and wider, showing more of her lovely pussy, driving her fingers deeper and deeper into herself. No longer stroking her clit, she was fucking herself. Fucking herself for me.

Her eyes flew open.

Her body clenched as she threw herself back against me. Her fingers were fully embedded inside her and she was pressing them hard, trying to get them deeper inside herself. She held this pose for a long moment, then shuddered as the orgasm took her. I had to hold her up as her body spasmed again and again. Her legs seemed incapable of supporting her weight any more.

After a few seconds, she straightened and sought my eyes in the mirror. I let her skirt drop, then led her to a small bench in the hallway. As she sat, I knelt before her, lifting her dress and spreading her legs. Her eyes were barely focused on me, but she reached down and opened her pussy for me to see. After a moment, she noticed that her breasts were exposed.

She giggled. “When did that happen?”

As an answer,I leaned in and gave her sweet clit a kiss. I used a little tongue, but only a little. I got a gasp, then a moan for my trouble. A tiny thrust of her hips to sweeten the deal.

I stopped. Stood. Took her hands in mine.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” She looked at me blankly for a moment.

“I’m Kat.”

“Well, Kat, I have a meeting that I can’t miss. I’ll see you next Tuesday.”

With that, I turned and walked away, leaving her wet and gasping for breath.

I did go back the next Tuesday, but that’s another story.

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