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The flight to Phoenix from San Diego was uneventful, except for the level of my anticipation. I was wondering if she would show up. I was looking forward to the opening of a national exhibition of contemporary painting that represented the best artists and their work in that genre. I was pleased to have been asked to participate, but was apprehensive about how my painted tables would be received. All that melted away at the thought of meeting her.
I had met Irene online, in a chat room. We connected immediately, something about the way she typed? She was a musician and an artist, and that seemed to spark each other’s interest. She was also much younger than I, and from what she told me, an extremely hot and attractive Latina. We ended up cybering the first time we met. It was hot and she knew just what to say to get me hard. The second time, she called me on the phone, and we had the most amazing simultaneous, orgasmic experience. That started three months of e-mails, instant messages and phone calls. I had sent her pictures of me, but had never received an image of her. Her beauty came out in her voice and her words. Now at the brink of finally meeting her, I was wondering if it was all a deception. What if she was truly hideous with the breath of a goat? I tried to let the thoughts go and revel in my fantasy image of her. Five foot five, long dark brown flowing hair, a beautiful smile, perk young breasts and a fine Latina ass, round and firm. About 118bs.But I did know her voice, soft, low, sensuous, pleading, wanting and whimpering in the pitch of ecstasy. I was getting an erection just reliving those many moments on the phone.
The gallery had reserved for me a room at a downtown hotel within walking distance, and I had made a dinner reservation for 2 at a nearby fine restaurant. I had even brought a bottle of my favorite Zinfandel to drink with dinner. This was a fantasy on the edge of coming true or being a disaster.
The opening was from 6pm -9m, and I had asked her to meet me at the gallery in front of my work at about 7:30. The only way I would know her is by the outfit she was going to wear. A black blouse, a black skirt with red roses on both side, and sexy black open toed shoes. I figured that she would be easy to spot in that way.
I arrived at the gallery about 6:30, having stopped in a local bar for a Martini, before facing the crowd of well to do. These events always made me cringe. I always feel like a monkey, needing to be ready to do flips at the request of the viewing audience. I had been a good illegal bahis monkey. Many patrons were interested in talking to me about the work and seemed genuinely clued in.
“Art…Oh Art” It was the gallery owner a small, middle-aged attractive fireball .She had her hand on the arm of a rather large, matronly woman, with a dour puss.
“Art, I’d like you to meet Mrs. Gladstone. She is one our very best patrons and is very interested in your work, a possible commission.”
My stomach churns at the thought; I wondered what party deadline I would need to meet
“Nice to meet you Mrs. Gladstone”
“Well, the pleasure is mine. My husband, Doctor Gladstone, and I are very excited that you might make one of these fabulous tables for us.
“Why don’t you just buy one of the ones on the wall” I quip. It’s about 7:20 and I am scanning the room for my date.
“Well,Art, it’s just that the colors…, e well, they are a little bright for our house”
Jeez, here we go, I think to myself.
“And well the figures, I mean these figures, they seem to be falling from the sky, and after the tragic events of September 11……..I just can’t have that I my house”
Oh man. I am really getting nervous that this rica is going to expect me to talk to her the rest of the evening about some bad idea of a painting
“If you could do the background in teal and mauve, my colors dear. And say paint cats, I have two adorable Siamese, you can paint Siamese can’t you Art? And we do have a Medical auxiliary dinner at our house in two months we would need it by then……….
I look over by my work and see Irene. Standing in front of one of my tables, she is beautiful, radiant. Her hair rolls off the shoulder of a stunning black blouse and her ass is nicely framed by the stitched roses on her dress. I can see her face from the side, she is really beautiful. Others are noticing this lovely woman standing, admiring, and looking around the room.
I don’t even excuse myself from the grip of Mrs. Gladstone. I make my way across the room, nervously approaching her. I am not sure she has noticed me; I walk up from behind her. I get close enough to feel my black jeans, brush her dress.
“Do you like it” I ask softly into her ear. A big grin breaks across her face a
“Very much” she replies quietly with out turning to me.
“Do you want it?” my lips now getting dry.
“More than you can know babe” She turns and faces me, her dark brown eyes twinkling with a bit of mischief, her red lips part in a smile, illegal bahis siteleri and she gives me a soft kiss on the cheek
“Hola papacito” she whispers demurely, a name she had called me in moment s of wanton ecstasy
“Hola Chica” and we make a quick embrace. I sense everyone is watching us. The older artist, dressed handsomely in black and black boots, giving his attentions to the most radiant and stylish woman in the room. Unfortunately, I have to make small talk around the room; she leaves my side and wonders to other parts of the gallery, looking at work. My eyes follow, and my dick leaps in my trousers, God do I want her.
Finally the crowd diminishes, and a few people, stewed in bad gallery wine, hang on laughing drunkenly. A rather large balding man in a bad suit has planted himself in front of Irene, ranting about how exceptionally bad all the show is. I catch her glance and her eyes tell me to come and sweep her off her feet, or at least away from the corpulent critic.
“Vamanos” I exclaim, while, I wrap my arm around her waist, spin her away from porky, and gleefully stride out the door with the hottest babe of the Arizona night at my side.
It is the first moment we are truly together, alone in a new universe. We chat nervously and awkwardly at first, unused to the physical presence of each other. I am taking in her beauty, her scent, her smile, her wit and her voice. I am getting another spontaneous erection. My hand still at her waist, I can feel the firmness of it, and the beginning curve of her luscious hips. I want to trace that line to her ass, which bounces along as we walk.
The restaurant is a hip mix of techno modern and southwest bordello style, with refreshing colors on plaster walls and a brilliantly lit bar. The interior is dark, but warm, tables lit with candles in perforated tin cups, creating a dance of pattern and light across the diners. Our table is a corner booth for two, towards the back, upholstered in soft burgundy velveteen. Irene walks in fronts of me, my eyes move to her ass, and I can tell she is either wearing a very skimpy thong or no panties at all. She is lovely.
The waiter cheerfully uncorks the Zinfandel I have brought.
“A toast” I say.
“A toast to …..Magic. Magic of the internet, magic of a bruja and brujo. The magic we have yet to make”
“Salud” she raises her glass and we clink them together and the first warm taste of the evening rolls down my throat.
The booth is a corner, so we move close canlı bahis siteleri to one another, my arm around her now. I softly place a kiss on her neck, below her ear, and linger a bit to take in her lovely scent. She shivers. So many things I want to say at the moment, but the silence between us has a tantalizing awkwardness of anticipation. I am about ready to say something, she raises her finger to her mouth, her nails done in the color of Zin, leans towards me and we kiss. A delicate, wet exploration of each other’s tongue, a deep sigh from her and we are lost momentarily.
” Ah, hem. The lady and gentleman ready to order?” The waiter has a sly smirk on his face. Startled, we both blush and then break out in mutual laughter.
“Yeah, I’m having…her!”. We all laugh for a minute and then order quickly to get rid of the waiter.
“So how do you like to have your young Chica prepared for eating” she asks me .
” Oh I like Chica , medium”
“Well I am juicy on the outside and pink on the inside right now”
My cock jumps and I realize I have been sitting with a hard on for the last twenty minutes.
“Mmmm. Really? Oooh, I like that”
Her hand moves to my crotch and she gives my boner a squeeze.
” I can tell, papacito” she winks and gives me another kiss on the lips.
I reach down and gently place my hand on her leg, just above her knee, right below the hem of her dress. I caress that spot lightly with my fingertips, I can feel her squeeze her legs together, at the sensation. We talk aimlessly about the show, as if nothing is going on. I move my fingers back and forth, making progressively longer forays up her thigh. I boldly, run my hand between her legs up her inner thigh. She is looking at me, her eyes open wide, as she feels this.
“Mmmmm. Si papi” , circling her lips with her tongue. I venture further and encounter the dampness of her trimmed hair. She is not wearing panties. Parting her legs slightly, her eyes invite me to explore more. I kiss her again and as my tongue enters her mouth, my finger, slides into her wet slit. We are both breathing hard and my dick is pressing against my jeans, wanting to be released.
“Er, ahem….Dinner is ready” The annoying waiter is here. We straighten up and take a sip of wine before enjoying the meal. I am so turned on that the food and wine seem to take on new dimensions in dining pleasure. Irene squirms a bit. She has taken her shoes off and caresses my leg with the bottom of her foot as we eat.
“How is your meat?” she inquires, grinning.
“Well it is a bit stiff,,, I mean tough. But yours…” I place the finger that has been in her juices, to my mouth, suck it
“Yours is just fine” and I meant it, Her taste was unbelievable and a sip of wine to follow was superb.
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