Milking Time B4 Chapter 2 Barocca Duz Jeanne
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Portrait Of Jeanne free porn video
Tonight, I am taking you into the Courtauld Institute Gallery in London. A glorious early eighteenth century manor in the heart of London, just a block away from the parliament buildings. The night guard tips his hat to us as we enter the building. You in a sleeveless black velvet gown, black shoes, toting a small evening purse. God you are ravishing. My very own Holly Golightly. I in a classic black tuxedo with the bowtie undone from your handiwork in the beautiful old fashioned London taxi we just now exited from.
You turn to watch as the guard locks the door behind him, leaving the two of us alone for the night. Turning back, you look at me with those glorious eyes and smile sweetly. We hold hands as we walk up the enormous marble staircase ending at a landing some thirty feet above the first floor. We proceed forward into the west gallery as the sun sets. We gaze around the large square room at the dozen or so paintings, mostly by the later Impressionists. Your gaze stops as you spy Modigliani’s Portrait of Jeanne. Placed strategically in front of the painting is a marble bench which has been covered with a white tablecloth. Set upon it are two wine glasses, a plate of fresh fruit and cheeses, and a bottle of Merlot. Two burgundy cloth napkins are laid on the bench as well, with a shining silver corkscrew placed alone on one of them. two natural creamy-colored candles adorn each side of the bench. A short one on the outsides and a tall one on either of the two insides. The candles are already casting a warm glow into the room. We walk to the Modigliani to look, and to our left, notice the window opened into the courtyard of the institute below us.
In the courtyard are seated a young lady in a short back dress playing a viola. Accompanying her on a classical guitar is a young man in a black dress shirt and slacks. Both are angelic in appearance. They are playing the sensuous Eroica, Beethoven’s symphony No. 3 in E Flat. They look up to us and smile. You look down at the girl and comment to me about her creamy white breasts, the cleavage of which is opened for us to see. You touch your own breasts. We smile back at the musicians and return our attention to the painting. The eyes call to us. My heart races at the site of this work of art as I reach to embrace the work of art standing next to me. We stand together for what seems like hours, staring at her staring at us. You turn to face me with tears streaming down your cheeks. What a sight in candlelight. We hold each other tighter as I bend my neck to reach for your mouth. We kiss a beautiful kiss. Soft, not too short, not too long (like there could ever be a kiss that was too long). I pull away from you, careful to slide my right hand down your left arm and into your waiting hand. We will not lose contact tonight. I pour us each a too-full glass of the deep red wine. Clos du Bois, 1997. Gasp, an American wine in London? I hand you a glass, then take mine. Still holding hands, we raise the glasses to toast this romance, then we turn to face Jeanne and raise our glasses to this beautiful Madonna. We sip. Not bad. But good because this night is good. The air is not cool, not hot. Just right. We kick off our shoes. The room darkens as we drink, and walk around the bare room, looking at Degas’ self-portrait as an old man. The poor soul, cursed with failing sight, he drew with pastels in his later years so that he could feel the paper beneath him. This portrait shows how his failing eyes captured the lights and darks of his visage in a mirror as he worked. Then on to Gustav Klimt, what a beauty, the lovers embracing. The gold leaf work is exquisite despite its aging. The beauty of these works has heightened our fires of passion. We again embrace and finish off the first glasses of wine.
Glasses placed gently on the ornate wool carpet, I hold you close to me for another kiss just as our musicians begin playing A Lovers’ Concerto. We sway to the delicate music. You stretch your arms up to wrap around my neck. I turn my head to the left to kiss your wrist. My arms, on your back, rub you firmly, and I reach up with my left hand and undo the clasp in the back of the collarless neck of your splendid dress. I tug gently on the zipper and it slides down easily until it reaches the small of your back. You ease away from me, and with your left arm on my right shoulder, gently push me to the floor. Still standing, you lean forward and let the dress slide off of your arms and to the floor, revealing that beautiful body wrapped only in a black strapless bra and little black lacy thongs. Instead of stripping as I expect, you let the music capture you and take you swirling around the room. Your eyes closed. Your smile opened. Your arms outstretched. My Lord in Heaven, you are the epitome of loveliness. Your silky hair flies out of place as you twirl. I take the liberty of removing my own jacket as you dance. But before too long, you slow down and fall on top of me. You push yourself up on your hands and knees, straddling my legs. You lean back, letting your nearly bare ass rest firmly just above my knees and unbutton my shirt as I stare at your golden chest. The black bra accentuates your beautiful, full breasts and every button you undo causes your them to sway a little. They are alive. I am so alive.
You push my shirt off. Then you move your hands down to my pants, undoing my belt, the button, and finally tugging at the zipper until it slides down as well. You scoot down to my feet, and pull at my pants until they slide down to my ankles. I am in heaven just watching you take my pants off. Please take off my dorky black socks! You do. Sitting upright, down at my feet, you reach around back and undo your bra, flinging it off to the side as your beautiful breasts fall, jiggle, and settle into place as beacons lighting my way to your scrumptious body. You fall forward onto all fours and stalk forward like a cat on the prowl, stopping just as your swaying breasts meet my face. Your nipples are full and erect. You drop them into my waiting face. I capture one in my mouth, and suck, then the other. I reach my hands around your ass and up front so that I can caress and fondle these beauties. You are reacting quickly by growing hot in your lovenest. You push your heat onto my manhood through our underwear. You push and grind as I suck and play with your breasts. You reach under yourself and into my shorts, grabbing hold of my cock, as if you had to rip it out right now. The sensation drives me wild. You release it from its confines and position your wet pussy over it, trying desperately to get it in. You are in a frenzy. Wait, your panties.
I push myself up and take hold of your shoulders. I kiss you and keep close to your mouth, eyes opened and locked on yours, as I turn you and lay you backside down onto the soft, patterned carpet. The room is now illuminated only by the candlelight. But you are so beautiful as I lay you down, we wouldn’t even need candles for your beauty would radiate light. I gently slide your panties off your body, revealing your jewel to me. You reach up and help me off with mine, then lay back down, opening your legs for me. I look down at you. You look up at me. I whisper sweet words to you and you smile. I love your smile. I can’t wait any longer, I slowly lower myself onto you, penetrating your dampness easily. You close your eyes with a euphoric expression just as our musicians begin playing a beautiful rendition of The Beatles’ If I Fell. The viola seems to cry the silent words out as the guitar plucks gently. I take my left hand and push it under your right shoulder, lifting you, rocking you like a baby cradled gentle in my arms. I will keep you safe from danger, shelter you from harm. I continue to move inside you, back and forth, up and down. We gaze into each other’s eyes as our bodies connect the way bodies are supposed to connect. If only we could stay locked in this position for eternity.
If I gave my heart to you, I must be sure from the very start, that you would love
to love me. And you do. Your expression can’t hide it. Tonight there is no rush. It is you, me, and Jeanne, presiding over this consummation, approvingly, no doubt. We rock, we quiver. The little earthquakes begin. But we don’t engage the pace. We stay steady. In time, my love, in time. You reach your head up to kiss me. We lock our mouths together, letting our tongues make love to each other as our lower bodies are doing. I feel you start to jerk. Your muscles tighten around my cock and your arms pull me tight to your breast. We keep the kiss going until you have to break for air. Your head and shoulders buck forward as your stomach constricts itself, again forcing your inner walls to a stranglehold around my shaft. Your body shakes all over which increases the sensation for my manhood.
Your hips suddenly thrust forward, consuming my cock in one swallow, all the time bucking in a frenzy. I watch your eyes roll back as you release a moan with your teeth clenched. You are coming, and so am I. As you open your mouth to call out my name, my sac tightens and releases a stream of liquid hot magna from the volcanic insides of my soul. We cum together in ecstasy pushing each other forward just as the song ends. We fall together on the soft carpeting and fall asleep together.
We lay there until the cleaning crew arrive early the next morning. But they don’t disturb us. An elderly woman with a sparkle remaining in her eye, covers our naked bodies with a soft blanket, leaving and locking the door. She was young once, and no doubt in love.
Trisha
- 19.08.2022
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