Art in the Back Seat My Very First Handjob
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Art In Reality Ch. 01-02 free porn video
Chapter One
There was knocking on the car window. He pushed the button, the glass glides down, and a torrent of rain flooded in. On the other side of the door, in the gloom, he saw her.
‘Are you okay?’ she cried over the howling gale.
‘Yes, I’m fine. It’s just the car, it’s stuck in the mud’ he shouted back.
‘I could just about make you out as I was passing. I thought you might be hurt.’
‘No, I’m okay. It’s very kind of you to check. A sheep jumped out in front of me. I swerved and ended up stuck in here. You’re getting soaked.’
‘That’s okay. Have you got someone coming to pull you out? A truck or something?’ she said, holding her hair up away from her eyes.
‘No, I don’t think anyone will come out in this storm. I was going to sit it out here. I didn’t fancy walking back home through this. Especially not on these lanes.’
‘Oh right. Well as long as you’re okay.’
She stood up away from the window and took a couple of steps back towards her car. She paused and then returned.
‘How far is your house then?’
‘Annoyingly it’s only about fifteen minutes drive. But I wasn’t counting on this weather!’
‘Do you want a lift?’ she asked.
‘I wouldn’t want you to go out of your way. Thank you though’, he replied.
‘Well we’re both pointing the same direction and I don’t think there are many turn offs off this road. Are you sure? I’ll probably be passing your place anyway.’
‘Well if you don’t mind. Thank you.’
~
He wound up the window, picked his bag off the front seat and pushed the door open. Stepping outside he was immediately assaulted by the weather. The wind threw the rain into his face and was bitingly cold. The two of them crossed over to where she had stopped her car a few yards down lane. They both jumped in and slammed the doors behind them.
The isolation of the vehicle felt suddenly quiet in contrast to the thundering noise of the storm outside. They looked across at each other and smiled.
His suit jacket and trousers were wet, but the short hop between cars had not been enough to soak through to his shirt. She however, had not been so lucky. Her jeans were dark blue, completely saturated with rain. Her jumper was hanging heavily from her shoulders, looking like a sponge pulled up from a bucket of water.
‘God, you look soaked through. I’m sorry. It’s very kind of you to stop. Let alone give me a lift,’ he broke the silent pause.
‘I can’t believe how quickly this weather blew in. I was outside painting only an hour ago,’ she said, breaking eye contact with him and looking out the windscreen.
‘Storms come in fast from the sea,’ he said, as he took the opportunity to cast his eyes over her features. She was strikingly beautiful.
‘Let’s get going. Straight on I guess?’ she questioned, looking back to him.
‘Erm, yes.’
His thoughts of her appearance being broken made him suddenly flounder.
‘It’s follow this road, pretty much the whole way. I can shout when we get to the turning.’
‘Okay.’
She started the engine, causing the interior light to fade and the headlights to beam out into the gloom ahead. She drove slowly and cautiously ahead, through the appalling weather.
~
This was perhaps a stupid thing to be doing, she thought. Picking up a man in the middle of nowhere, in the near dark, on her own. But she had felt compelled to stop. Having encountered a car, half in a ditch, and seeing that there was someone inside. There was something about this man, when he opened his window and she saw his face. No, it was his eyes in particular. He felt good. Trustable. Being rather good looking certainly helped too. That he declined her offer of a lift in the first instance gave her some confidence as well, that she had not made a stupid mistake.
~
Ten minutes passed, as she wound her way along the lane. Looking out at the sheets of rain washing over the windscreen suddenly prompted her to think how wet she was, and how cold. She was sure that every inch of her was soaked to the skin. Despite turning the car heating up to full, she shuddered with a chill.
~
The movement caught the corner of his eye.
‘You must be freezing,’ he said.
‘It’s not that bad,’ she replied. ‘It’s just this heavy humidity.’
She glanced at him, taking her eyes off the road just for a moment, and saw him smile. He had a warm smile.
‘Can you turn left just around the next corner here?’ he asked.
‘Yep.’
‘Then my place is just at the end of a short track.’
~
She rounded the corner, slowing right down so as not to miss the turn.
‘Just…..here,’ he said.
She turned into a single lane track and proceeded slowly uphill. Out of the gloom and into the car’s headlights emerged a beautiful little cottage. Single storey, brick and timber frame, with a steep tiled roof.
‘This is me,’ he said.
She pulled up the car, close to the little front door and switched on the interior light, leaving the engine running.
‘There you go.’
‘Thank you so much. I was reckoning on spending the night in my car, given this storm. Thank you.’
He held out his hand.
She accepted his hand shake and noted how warm he felt, as he firmly but gently clasped her hand.
‘You’re freezing,’ he exclaimed with concern. ‘How much further are you going?’
‘Oh, it’s probably only an hour or so. I’ll be alright.’
‘An hour? You’ll catch your death. Do you want to come in and dry off?’
‘No, no, I should get going,’ she replied.
A large drop of water ran down her forehead and dropped from her eyebrow, down to her cheek.
‘You are literally dripping,’ he said. ‘I will feel terrible if I let you go on like this, having rescued me. The least I can do is provide you with a towel.’
She looked into his eyes.
‘I’ll boost the heating and light the fire. The cottage warms up quickly. Please.’
~
She considered him. There was something about him that conveyed a sense of trust. When he had held her hand, she had felt such a sense of warmth and kindness, that her normal sense of cautiousness evaporated.
~
‘Okay, I’ll just pop in quickly.’
‘Good, wait here a sec, whilst I get the door open.’
With that, he jumped out of the car and into the rain.
He ran to the door, fumbled in his bag for a second, before producing some keys and throwing the door wide open. Crouched over, he ran back to the car, opened the driver side door and held out his hand.
She looked again, at that innocent hand. A gentleman, she thought, as she reached out and took it, using it for support as she climbed out of the car.
He held on to her hand and whisked her towards the house. The two of them ran in through the door. He let her go only to enable him to turn and slam the door shut against the weather.
‘Thank goodness we’re out of that,’ he said as he lifted one foot to reach and untie the laces of his shoe.
Guiltily she realised she was several steps inside and had left a trail of very wet footsteps on the wooden floor.
‘Oh your floor.’
She bent down and tugged her boots off.
‘Never mind the floor,’ he replied. ‘Anyway, your socks look as wet as your boots.’
She looked down and saw that she had made just as wet footprints with her socks as her boots had made.
‘You really are soaked through and through aren’t you,’ he said. ‘Come here to the bathroom. There are towels above the radiator. They’ll be nice and warm.’
She followed him into the cottage, trying in vain to minimise the damp footprints she was leaving in her wake.
He flicked on the bathroom light and pointed in at the hanging towels.
‘Look, I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but why don’t you have a shower. I can
find you some clothes. Yours will never dry with just a towel and a shower will warm you back up like nothing else. There’s a lock on the door.’
~
Damn, he thought, that last comment was stupid. Like a lock on the door is going to make her feel any more confident about stripping off in a strangers house.
~
‘Well, you can if you want. I could go and make you a hot drink too?’
She looked at the situation. If a girl friend of hers were recounting this, she would be shouting madness to be in a strangers house taking showers, but there was something about this guy. Apart from finding him quite cute, he felt so totally unthreatening. The realisation that she was actually trying to stop her teeth chattering concluded her decision.
~
‘Thank you. If you don’t mind?’ she asked.
‘Not at all. Help yourself to anything. Shampoo on the shelf there, look, and so on. Use as many towels as you like. Do you need anything else?’ he asked.
‘Just someone to wash my back’ she quipped.
~
What the hell did she say that for, she thought. What a stupid implication to make.
~
She froze, looking at him for his response.
‘Ah…..I…..uh,’ he floundered. ‘You control the water temperature with the dial there,’ he pointed out, completely stating the obvious.
~
Was that a hint of colour in his cheeks, she thought. Is he blushing?
~
She silently let out the breath she was holding.
‘Thank you,’ she said quietly.
‘I’ll leave you to it,’ he replied as he quickly made his exit, closing the door behind him.
~
As the latch clicked, he stood for a moment and thought, had she seen him blushing? Having seen her now in good indoor light he realised just how attractive she was. Her seemingly offhand comment had instantly conjured a rather erotic image in his minds eye. Had she meant anything by it? She must have been joking, he concluded as he made his way to the bedroom to change out of his own damp clothes.
~
In the bathroom, it took only a moment before she heard his footsteps recede into the house. She carefully, slowly slid the bolt, to quietly lock the door.
She reached in to the cubicle, turned on the shower and immediately felt the inviting heat of the water. She began removing her sodden clothes. Her jumper felt like it was ten times heavier than normal, with all the water in it, as she hauled it up and over her head. She dropped it down to the floor with a wet splat. She repeated the manoeuvre with her top, peeling it up and away from her torso, as it did it’s best to cling to her body. She had not bothered with a bra that day, as usual, so she set to work on her jeans. These were much harder, with the thicker material seemingly suctioned to her legs by the moisture. She completely inverted them as she peeled them down her legs to her ankles. The final tugging removed both jeans and socks as one. She keenly felt the goose pimples popping up all over her cold, clammy body. Her knickers rolled themselves into a knot as she worked them down her legs. Finally she stepped under the luscious hot water of the shower and felt the warmth penetrate her.
~
She felt like she could stay in there for hours, so much did she enjoy the warmth flowing across her body. But thinking her mystery gentleman was probably sat waiting for her to emerge, she reluctantly stepped out and dried herself with a towel.
~
Then she realised her predicament. Her clothes were sat in a puddle on the floor. She had nothing dry to put on.
‘Bugger,’ she uttered.
She set about untangling her knickers and tugging them back up her legs. They felt horrible. Damp, cold and unpleasantly clinging to her skin. Then the jeans, but to no avail. They were so tight and clammy she could not drag them back onto her legs, no matter how hard she pulled.
‘Bugger, bugger, bugger,’ she cursed quietly.
She stood shifting her weight from leg to leg for a full five minutes, as she blankly considered her situation.
She decided there was no choice. She rolled the knickers back off, dried herself again, wrapped a towel around herself and slid back the door bolt.
~
She eased the door open a crack and peeked out. He was not to be seen. Slowly she padded out of the bathroom, holding the top of the towel with both hands, tightly around her chest. She moved around a corner and spotted him in the kitchen. He was cooking. She found this comforting.
~
He looked up and saw her. Wrapped in a towel, the top of which was bound under her arms and held firmly into her breasts, making them bulge slightly upwards into two curved domes. The lower edge of the towel hung what must have been just a few inches below her bottom, leaving almost the full length of her legs exposed. His breath caught in his throat. She looked incredible.
~
He realised he was staring.
‘Sorry,’ he cast his eyes down to the chopping board in front of him. ‘I said I was going to get you some dry clothes.’
He looked back up at her and ensured his eyes stayed on her eyes, and nothing else this time.
‘Though thinking about it, I have no idea what. Why don’t you go through to my room yourself and pick something. It’s back the way you came, round to the left. The door opposite the bathroom. There’s stuff in the wardrobe and the drawers. Rummage about until you find something.’
‘Oh, are you sure?’ she asked. ‘I don’t want to…..’
‘Yes, yes, go for it.’
She smiled her thanks and turned to follow his directions.
~
He considered his options. Back to cooking. Or watch her go, and risk her looking over her shoulder and catching him.
He took the gamble. His eyes rolled up and down her body as she walked away. Her bottom wiggled enchantingly. With the motion of her hips he could just make out each cheek rolling up and down beneath the towel. It was a magnificent view, and he got away with it.
~
She found the bedroom easily enough and wondered at the generous trust he had shown her. She was surprised at being granted free reign of his bedroom and clothes. Although she quickly realised she was still in a bit of a fix. What could she find to wear here amongst mens clothes? It confirmed to her at least that he lived alone. Clothing for one is all that was present.
She tentatively looked through the wardrobe and the drawers. What to pick? Particularly on the question of underwear. She found a drawer that included boxer shorts, but these would have been like clown trousers on her significantly more slender frame than his. Likewise would be his trousers.
She settled on the largest shirt she could find. Buttoning it all the way down and rolling up the sleeves made it into a dress of sorts. Admittedly a rather short one. Though considering the length of the towel, she would not be flashing any more leg than he had already seen. And she knew he had definitely ‘seen’, as she recalled his eyes roving up and down when she had first stepped into the kitchen doorway. But then, part of her really quite liked that her appearance had clearly made an impression on him.
Besides flashing her legs, it was flashing anything else that was more her concern, considering she was about to go back without a shred of underwear beneath the shirt.
~
As she made her way back towards the kitchen, she took in more details of the cottage. It was small, cosy, and felt comfortable. He had lit the fire in the living room, which caste a wonderful glow. She was comfortably warm, despite wearing only the shirt. There were lots of book shelves, filled with what looks like a whole assortment of topics. The wall space that was left contained some interesting pictures that she would have liked to have a closer look at.
Something else caught her attention. The smell of cooking. Her tummy rumbled and she realised how hungry she was.
It must have been about seven thirty, and she had had an early lunch too.
~
Back in the kitchen doorway, she said, ‘I hope I’m okay in this?’
He looked up and took in the view. Momentarily considering his response, he settled on, ‘more than okay. That shirt has never looked so good on me.’
He combined it with what he hoped was a lighthearted smile.
~
She dropped her head downwards, feeling like she must have turned scarlet red. His smile has a profound affect on her.
~
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to embarrass you,’ he said.
She looked back up, smiling slightly and uncontrollably locking eyes with his. The time seemed to stretch as they gazed at each other. Neither wanting to break the connection.
~
‘Would you like dinner?’ he asked eventually.
‘Yes,’ she replied impulsively.
‘I thought you might be hungry, given the time. And the storm is still hammering out there. You don’t want to go back out just yet. I hope you like carbonara?’
‘Yes.’
‘Oh good. The old faithful. Sit down,’ he gestured to the kitchen table. ‘I’ll dish up.’
She moved to sit and was suddenly very conscious of the nakedness of her bottom as it made contact with the wooden chair. She was grateful that she could tuck herself in close to the table, hiding her lower half beneath it’s solidness.
~
He laid out cutlery and glasses. Then placed a bottle of white wine and a jug of water on the table.
‘Help yourself,’ he stated.
She appreciated him leaving her with the choice. She filled a tumbler with water and poured a small measure of the Chardonnay into a wine glass.
He placed a plate of food for each of them onto the table and sat down. Looking across at each other, they each broke into shy smiles.
‘Well I wasn’t expecting this evening,’ she interrupted the pause.
‘I hope it’s edible,’ he said, as he picked up his fork.
She curled a twist of pasta onto her fork and blew on it gently, before popping it into her mouth. It was delicious.
‘Mmmm,’ she said as she chewed. ‘It’s more than just edible,’ she said after swallowing.
‘Oh good. I was going to go for a five course gourmet experience of course, but I figured the pressure of having company would inevitably lead to me stuffing it up,’ he said.
She smiled and replied, ‘I’m very happy with this. Carbonara is one of my favourites. And this one is very good.’
‘Oh good. A lucky guess there.’
They both enjoyed their meal for several minutes, with only the muffled sound of rain and wind outside, and the odd crackle from the fire in the living room.
‘So what were you painting?’ he asked.
‘Sorry?’ she replied.
‘I just remembered that you said, in the car, you were painting before the storm came in.’
‘Oh. I was painting a scene looking down on the harbour and the cliffs around the village.’
‘Oh nice. It is a beautiful village. Do you live nearby?’
‘No, no. I have a flat in London. I’m in a holiday cottage.’
‘Oh, you’re on holiday? Your accent is not local, but lots of people move here.’
‘Not on holiday. Technically. Although it sort of is! I paint for a living. I’m here for inspiration.’
‘Wow, I’m in the company of an artist.’
‘Well, only a mediocre one,’ she replied. ‘Your accent is not local either. How do you come to be here?’
‘I came here on holiday several years ago. Saw this house. Fell in love and that was that. I can do my work from anywhere really, so I moved here. I was in London before too.’
‘What do you do?’
‘I’m a writer.’
‘Well I’m in the company of an artist too then,’ she said and smiled.
‘Oh well, I guess I don’t really think of it like that!’
‘What do you write?’
‘Textbooks.’
‘Ah.’ She raised her eyebrows.
‘I know, it sounds terribly dull doesn’t it?’
‘No, no. You must be very clever then,’ she said slyly.
He smiled ruefully. ‘Not really. I’m more like a translator really. I read up on a subject, written by people who actually know what they’re talking about. Then I translate into a language that is understandable for kids.’
‘Oh what ages?’
‘Mostly secondary school, but a bit either side too.’
‘Hence you have a lot of books.’
‘Hence I have a lot of books,’ he said as he refills his wine glass, and hovers the bottle above her glass.
‘I read a secondary school textbook last year I think. Yes please. About philosophy. Needed an introduction.’
‘Oh really. What made you approach that subject?’
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