Arms of an Artist Part 15






~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


Part 15


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


It has been almost exactly six months since Zan proposed, and I’ve never been happier.

And today will be the best day of my life.

Today is my wedding day, and in just over an hour, I am going to marry the man I love more than anything.

I looked around the hotel room where my mother and maid of honor had just helped me put on my wedding dress, and smiled. I was finally alone after all of the crazy last-minute preparations.

I’d asked them to give me some time.

Crossing to the full-length mirror, I examined my reflection.

I’d chosen an off-white ruched dress with lace detail on the bodice. It hugged my body to half-way down my thighs, where it flared out into flowing organza layers with a bit of a train. I’d decided to wear my hair down, like Zan loves, and I skipped the veil. My only jewelry was the heart necklace and engagement ring Zan had given me.

As I studied my reflection, I couldn’t help but wonder if Zan would like my dress. Zan hadn’t gone dress shopping with me, not because we were superstitious, but because he wanted to be surprised on our wedding day.

I wanted him to like the dress, but I wanted him to like me in the dress even more. I wanted to see that look of pride and hunger in his eyes when he saw me.

It was something I loved to see because it was so honest and it made me feel so special and loved.

For the last few days I hadn’t seen that look nearly enough because we’d been so busy with the wedding. My parents and the wedding planner kept me running around with so many last minute details I was beginning to wish we had eloped.

Going to the window, I looked out over the gardens below.

After we’d arrived home from visiting my parents at Thanksgiving, we’d started planning our wedding.

I didn’t want a big wedding and was seriously thinking we should elope, but Zan wanted me to have a perfect wedding, even if it was a small one. He didn’t want me to regret skipping a wedding day.

And he was right. I didn’t want a big wedding, but I did want for our wedding day to be special, and I wanted everyone to see how happy and how much in love we are. So we’d chosen our one- year anniversary as the date.

We decided on a small outdoor ceremony and reception in my hometown in Florida, at a grand old mansion that had been turned into a hotel and reception center. It was a beautiful place that resembled a Greek temple, and it had acres of manicured gardens.

I knew my mother would be happy that the wedding was close to her, and she could participate in the planning.

And as we made the arrangements, Zan was always at my side making sure that everything was exactly what I wanted, from the cake to the music, from the flowers to the venue.

The only things he had requested were a few songs, and that we not do the garter toss.

“I don’t want anyone to see you or even think about you like that,” he’d said so sweetly. “Your beautiful body is just for me.”

I didn’t mind skipping it. Truthfully I didn’t think it was dignified, and I couldn’t imagine doing it in front of my parents and their friends.

Zan had also asked me if I had something in mind for him to wear in the wedding, but I told him I wanted him to wear what he liked.

He’d taken me shopping for his suit, and I’d loved helping him pick it out. It was really fun to be the one watching him trying on clothes for a change, and he’d loved having me watch. He looked so handsome and sexy in everything, and he’d flirted outrageously, stopping occasionally to take me in his arms and kiss me senseless.

Finally we’d chosen what he would wear, a dark gray suit with a vest that had leather lapels, and a dark red shirt underneath. He looked so sexy I’d been tempted to rip it off him and jump him right there.

I thought maybe he wouldn’t want to wear a suit coat. I knew he didn’t like them, but he’d insisted on it. “It’s our wedding,” he said, kissing my head, “of course I’m wearing one.”

I smiled thinking about him.

Last night we’d stayed in the hotel where the wedding and reception was taking place today, and of course we’d had separate rooms. We’d sneaked a quickie, but I missed him so much.

I was so used to being with him that I craved his touch, his skin on mine, him inside me. Just thinking about him made me shiver with desire.

Because it was our wedding day, I’d have to wait hours to have him properly. We might be able to sneak away for another quickie, but it wouldn’t be enough. It was never enough.

And as if my thoughts conjured him, he was suddenly slipping in through the connecting door.

“How did you…” I started, but trailed off, shaking my head.

I smiled. He was wearing his suit and looked good enough to eat, and then I noticed he was looking at me.

His eyes raked over me from across the room like he’d never seen me before.

“You look incredible, Liz,” he breathed, “absolutely beautiful. You look just like the angel I always knew you were.”

I blushed, glad that he liked what he saw, and he smiled as he crossed to me.

“What are you doing here?” I asked softly, not wanting anyone who might be outside the room to overhear, since traditionally we weren’t supposed to see each other until the ceremony.

Gently he took me in his arms and placed a soft kiss on my forehead. “I had to see you,” he said. “I needed to tell you how much I love you.”

I hugged him. “I’m so glad we’ll be married soon. I want us to belong to each other completely for the rest of our lives.”

“I want that too, angel.”

He kissed me so tenderly it nearly brought tears to my eyes. “You are the best thing that has happened to me, and I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I swear I will spend our lives making you happy.”

I cupped his cheek. “Just being with you makes me happy, and I’m the lucky one. I am so glad I saw you that day on campus. You have given me more than I even thought existed, and I will I do everything I can to make you happy.”

He kissed my forehead again and smiled even wider as he met my eyes. “We would have found each other no matter what. And all I need to be happy is you in my life. We belong together.”

I held his gaze and if felt like we were exchanging our wedding vows. We didn’t need any witnesses, or anyone but ourselves. It was just about the two of us.

Zan stroked my cheek and reached inside his coat to take a small box from his pocket. “I brought you a gift, baby,” he said as he handed it to me.

I thought it must be jewelry, but I was surprised when I opened it to see a delicate garter instead. It was made of some filmy, sheer material with tiny silver threads woven into it, and dangling from one side was a heart that matched my necklace, but this one had a dozen small diamonds. Obviously Zan had it made for me.

“For our one year anniversary,” he said.

“Thank you Zan,” I said, hugging him. “It’s absolutely beautiful.”

He touched my cheek. “I wanted you to have something special that only you and I would know about.”

“I love it, but you didn’t have to get me anything,” I said. “Being with you, marrying you is the best gift I could have today.”

“Let me spoil you, angel,” he teased. “It makes me happy.”

He smiled, taking it from me. “And,” he said, kneeling down in front of me, “I get the pleasure of putting it on you.” He looked up, meeting my eyes with a wicked grin.

Lifting the edge of my skirt, he gently clasped my ankle and raised my bare foot enough to slip the garter around it and then lowered it to the floor again. And caressing my leg, he slowly slid the garter higher. As he pushed the garter, he pushed my skirt too, inching it up, exposing me to him.

I could feel his hot breath on my skin a moment before he leaned in, kissing my ankle, marking the path of where he was sliding the garter.

Higher and higher he went, kissing, licking, and smoothing his hands over my skin, leaving me breathless. His touch was like fire and I was quickly catching flame.

It was sweet torture as he slowly went higher and higher, over my knee, where he stopped to take a quick lick of the sensitive skin behind my knee. My core ached for him, and he was driving me wild.

Finally I gasped, “That’s high enough for a garter.”

“Perfect,” he hummed against my skin, kissing the skin above the garter as his fingers caressed my inner thigh, “and while I’m here…” He let the sentence trail off as he released my skirt and instead gripped the side of my panties, pulling them aside, and closed his mouth over my heated core.

I sighed as he touched me, needing him so much.

His tongue circled my opening, teasing me and my hips moved trying to get him to touch me where I really wanted. He took a single lick across my clit and then dipped his tongue just inside me.

I moaned, grasping for his head through my dress.

Looking down, I could see that it covered him completely and had the fleeting thought that even if anyone came in, they wouldn’t even see him. But the door was locked and I had the key, so there was no chance of that happening.

And then, he thrust his tongue deep inside me, and all other thoughts went out of my head.

It was a good thing I was standing near the wall because my knees felt like they might give out, and I reached to steady myself.

He put his hands on my inner thighs, stroking them gently, silently asking me to widen my stance. I did immediately and he took full advantage, starting a steady rhythm inside me.

Each stroke in and out, he angled his tongue, making sure to brush my G-spot. I’d been so ready for him, even before he came in that it only took me moments to reach the edge. I was shivering and panting for breath, my eyes sliding shut as the pleasure built. And when he touched my clit too, I thought I would explode immediately.

But somehow he held me there, giving me more and more pleasure until I thought I couldn’t stand it anymore.

He continued inside me as he barely touched my clit, making my whole body jump. Then he started rubbing my nub in hard fast circles, and I felt the orgasm filling me.

My body arched and I held onto Zan and wall as the overwhelming pleasure took me.

The sensations washed through me as Zan continued to gently brush my clit with his thumb. I felt my core squeezing his tongue. Slowly he withdrew, but stayed between my legs, kissing and licking me.

“Perfect,” he hummed, licking my clit.

Lifting up my dress, I reached for him, pulling him to his feet, and kissed him hard.

“Almost perfect,” I said with a smile.

He lifted an eyebrow. “I didn’t make you cum hard enough?” he teased.

I shook my head, putting a hand to his chest and pushing him back toward the bed. “I didn’t have your big cock inside me.”

He smiled, taking me in his arms, “It is no wonder I love you, baby,” he said, kissing me hard.

I kept pushing his chest the last couple of steps and when the bed touched the back of his legs, I gave him a harder push. “So sit down and I’m going to ride you good and hard.”

He sat, waiting to see what I would do.

Reaching under my dress, I stripped my panties off, and went to him. I pushed him back, so he was leaning on his elbows and unfastened his slacks, pulling them and his boxers down around his thighs, wanting nothing between us. Then hiking my dress up, I climbed on the bed, straddling him.

His smile widened as his eyes raked over me. “I love it when you get feisty, baby,” he growled.

I smiled and held his eyes as I reached between us and grasped his rock-hard erection, and sank down on him so he filled me completely.

“Oh yes,” I sighed.

Zan wrapped me in his arms, kissing my neck near my ear. “My beautiful angel. That’s what you needed, my big cock inside you.”

“Always,” I said as I started moving on him.

I was actually planning on starting slow and building gradually, but when I started moving, I caught fire. I couldn’t seem to take him inside me fast enough.

One of Zan’s hands held the nape of my neck and the other slid under my dress, going for my clit, rubbing it in quick circles and making electricity shoot through me. I moved even faster, and my body started to arch back.

I could feel the end quickly approaching. “You feel so good,” I whispered. “Oh Zan, you feel so good.”

“Yes, baby,” he groaned. “Ride me hard, and let me see you cum.”

I buried my head in the corner of his neck and moved even faster, gasping with the effort, and he rubbed my clit harder. And with a few more strokes, I plunged over the edge.

“That’s it, angel,” he whispered as he held me. He stroked my hair as I shook with pleasure and gasped for breath. I was just realizing that he hadn’t climaxed, when he picked me up.

“Wrap you legs around me, baby,” he ordered.

I did as he said and pulled back enough to see his face. He grinned as he walked. “I know how much you love me to fuck you against the wall,” he said with a wicked smile. “And every time we see our wedding pictures we will both remember this moment.”

I know I blushed, but he just smiled wider.

Pressing me against the wall, he immediately started moving. Nothing about it was slow or gentle, and I loved it. Even though he had given me two orgasms, I was still on fire for him.

He thrust into me and my hips moved with him, meeting his every stroke. I grasped his shoulders tightly, as I held him between my legs, my back already arching with pleasure.

I don’t know how it was possible, but he went even faster, slamming inside me, practically taking my breath away. I held on as tight as I could, feeling like I was losing control.

“Oh Zan,” I gasped.

“Fuck, baby,” he growled.

I could hear in his voice that he was close too.

We moved together for a few long moments, and I felt my body getting tighter and tighter. If he hadn’t been holding me against the wall, I wasn’t sure I could have stayed upright as the sensations filled me.

I felt so hot, like everything inside me was melting, and Zan’s solid body, his length inside me was the only thing keeping me whole. My arms were wrapped around his neck, but I couldn’t even feel them any more. All I could feel was Zan and the incredible pleasure he was giving me.

It filled every inch of me and I wondered how I could possibly have so much pleasure, and then I went up in flames as he pounded me into another orgasm.

He came a moment later, his hips thrusting into me several more times as he groaned his completion.

I rested my head on his shoulder as we worked to catch our breath, he softly kissed my neck and chest.

When I could finally move, I stroked his cheek. “I’m so glad you sneaked in here,” I said.

He looked at me, smiling. “Well, I had intended to give you the garter and have a taste to hold me over, but I have to admit, I liked your idea even better.”

“I’ve been aching for you all morning,” I said as I felt my core still pulsing around his softening length. “There was no way I was going to let you out of the room until you were inside me.”

He was still smiling. “Well,” he said, kissing me lingeringly, “maybe that will keep us satisfied until after the ceremony.”

I giggled and he gave me another quick kiss.

“I know I won’t be able to resist you all night,” he said, sliding his hand between us, to stroke my clit. “We might just have to sneak away, once or twice, to have,” he brushed my clit again, “a good,” he rubbed me harder, “hard fuck.”

I gasped, nodding.

He brushed my clit again as he thrust his hips into me, “Because I know you love having my big cock inside you.”

I kissed him, stroking my tongue into his mouth as I felt my hunger growing for him again, “And I know you love being inside me.”

He kissed me harder. “Or maybe it will have to be three or four times.”


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


(Zan’s POV)

I watched my wife across the room as she slowly moved through the crowd, and couldn’t help but smile.

Each time we’re apart, and I see her again, it’s like seeing her for the first time all over again. I get that rush of excitement and nervousness as well as desire.

Tonight she was wearing a dress I bought for her. It was a light yellow-green that made her skin and eyes practically glow. It was made of a flowing material that skimmed her body and ended mid-thigh, showing her fantastic legs. It was cut low between her breasts and had a sort of thin, jeweled belt that fastened just below them.

But the back was my favorite. It was a halter style that fastened at the nape of her neck, leaving her back completely bare to the waist, except for the thin belt encircling her.

My Liz has kept her hair long, because she knows I love it, and even grew it a bit longer, so it cascades down to the middle of her back. She was wearing it in a loose braid that hung over her shoulder and was just begging me to dig my fingers into it and set it free.

She looks amazing, sophisticated and sexy, and I kept wondering what a street kid like me has ever done to deserve such a smart and beautiful woman.

We’ve been married almost five years, and in that time I’ve never been happier and I know I can say the same about Liz. And over the years she has become even more beautiful and sexy.

She is still my same sweet angel, but she is more confident in herself and her sexuality.

Our relationship really hasn’t changed since we’ve been married, but we love having a commitment to each other. We love belonging to each other completely in every way possible, and the rings on our fingers tell everyone around us that we are taken. I love hearing her tell people that I am her husband, and I have to admit that I especially love being able to tell everyone that Liz is my wife.

I am also even more possessive of her, now that we are married. She belonged to me before, but now that it’s official I feel an even greater need to protect and claim her. I want to make it clear to every man that they have no chance with her, so I go to every one of her work and school parties to make sure the men see us together, and see how much she loves me.

Since we’ve been married, our lives have changed a little. Liz’s parents are in our life. We talk to them every week, spend every Thanksgiving with them in Florida, and they have visited us several times.

After our rocky start, her parents really came around, accepting me into their family and supporting our relationship. I know that Liz is so relieved and happy that she didn’t have to choose between me or her parents. And I am glad that she isn’t estranged from them and doesn’t have the additional stress in her life.

In the time we’ve been married, Liz has done so much, and I am so proud of her accomplishments. She is following her dreams and doing exactly what she wants. She got her bachelor’s degree early and moved on to her master’s, which she finished in record time. She was also working part time at the university biology lab.

But even though our time has been more limited, I support her in everything she’s doing and try to make her life outside work and school as easy and fun as possible. Of course it often involves sex, but I also make sure she gets out of the house too. I try to make sure she gets to do everything she wants to do.

After her master’s she was accepted to Harvard to work on her doctorate.

Liz was surprised, but I never was. I knew she would get in. I never even had a doubt that she can do anything she sets her mind to.

So we moved to Boston so my angel could follow her dream, and we’ve been here about a year and a half.

We’re renting a great loft that’s perfect for my painting and is also close to campus. Liz and I both love it.

I’ve never lived anywhere except New York, and it has been an adventure getting to know a new city. We’ve tried new restaurants and delis, checked out parks, bookstores, museums, and galleries. It has been great finding new favorite spots to hang out, and even a few new favorite places to sneak a quickie.

We’ve even discovered a few out-of-the-way places on campus where we can have a good quick fuck. Often Liz doesn’t have a lot of free time during the day, so I bring her lunch every day so we can eat and indulge in each other.

And just a couple of weeks ago, Liz got a tiny office. It’s not much bigger than a closet really, but we’ve already thoroughly christened every available surface.

Of course, when she has a longer break in the day, we rush home where we can strip each other naked and take our time.

As I watched her across the room, in my mind I could see every beautiful inch of her naked body, and my already hard cock stiffened painfully.

No matter how many times I’ve had her, it is never enough. I wanted her constantly, thinking about her every moment we’re apart, wanting to touch her, taste her, and see her come apart in my arms again and again.

Oh fuck, I wanted her, but I would just have to wait.






(Liz’s POV)

I smiled as I slowly walked through the crowd. I knew that Zan was watching me, I could feel his smoldering gaze on me.

I wasn’t sure where he was exactly, but I had no doubt that he was watching.

He loves to look at me, and he is always watching out for me. He wants to make sure I am protected, but it’s also because he’s so possessive. Zan wants everyone to know that I am his, and it makes me feel so loved.

I feel just as possessive of him. I always go with him to his openings, to show support of course, but also to show any women who might get ideas about him that they are wasting their time.

Zan is all mine.

I proudly wear the necklace, engagement and wedding rings he designed and gave me, showing them off to anyone who asks. And I love to call him my husband. It is even more proof that he is mine.

In the five years we’ve been married, he has grown even more handsome, his body even stronger, but he is still the same caring, playful, sexy man I fell in love with. And Zan is so good to me, and he loves to spoil me.

It hasn’t all been easy of course.

I’ve been working hard to finish my education and I started to worry with all the time I am spending at school and work that I was neglecting Zan. I was so busy and we were spending less time together, and I worried that he would start to regret being with me.

But I talked to him and told him my fears. He held me so tenderly and told me how proud of me he was, and how he would support me no matter what.

He said we just had to make the most of the time we were together. And we have.

On the weekdays, Zan takes care of practically everything. We have breakfast together, and he brings me lunch every day, so we can spend a bit more time together. When I get home, he often has dinner waiting for me, and other times he takes me out.

On the weekends, we go to favorite places, or look for new ones. He loves to surprise me with new places to eat or go, and he loves giving me gifts. Often we make dinner together, each doing our own part, feeding each other, and occasionally ending up making love as the dinner burns. We love to take long baths together, and often we spend a whole Saturday or Sunday in bed.

And I love to spoil him too.

I’ll surprise him with new underwear I’ve bought to wear for him, or a picnic at the park, or a new place I’ve found for us to make love. And I love to show him new places that I think will inspire his painting.

I also love that our relationship is pretty much the same as before we were married. If anything it is even better. We tell each other everything so there are no secrets, and since we talk about everything, we hardly ever argue. The few times we have disagreed, we’ve quickly worked it out, and ended up in bed having spectacular make-up sex.

Another thing that has continued is Zan’s notebooks of drawings of me, or of us having sex. I think he is on his tenth or eleventh book by now. I love how sometimes we will take out one of the notebooks and choose a drawing in it and have sex in that position. Zan still draws his fantasies in the books too, and I love to find them and make sure they all come true. It is so fun and playful, and reminds us both of the days when we were first together.

Of course I am much more sure about myself now that I’m a little older. I tell Zan exactly what I want and often surprise him, but Zan can still make me blush.

Finally I looked over at him, just in time to see him looking back at the people he was supposed to be talking to.

I am still amazed that I get butterflies in my stomach every time I see him and I indulged myself, letting my eyes slowly roam over his body. Even though he was completely covered with a dark gray shirt and black jeans, I knew the sculpted beauty that was underneath.

His strong neck was exposed by the buttons he’d left undone, and he’d rolled up the sleeves, exposing his corded forearms. And even that small glimpse of his naked skin made me shiver with desire.

It didn’t take any imagination at all to feel the touch of his strong hands all over my body. I’d felt it a thousand times before. And I knew exactly what felt like to kiss and nip the skin of his neck as we made love.

And as many times as we’d been together, it was never enough. I craved him every moment of every day.

His desire for me had never lessened either. It had only intensified. It seems like our love making just kept getting better.

I think the hours we spend apart every day have made us even more hungry for each other.

I shivered again as I felt moisture pool between my legs, and determinedly turned away from him. I wanted him so much, but I would have to wait.

I’d stopped in front of one of his paintings and looked at it without really seeing it, as a smile raised the corners of my mouth. Tonight I had a surprise for Zan, unlike any other surprise I’d given him.

I’d done small things for him in the past, but I knew this was something that would make him happy every time he saw it.

With how busy we’d been, and then moving to Boston, Zan had never gotten around to buying himself his dream car.

Over the time we’ve been married, I’ve saved every penny I could from my jobs, and with a little help from my parents I’d bought Zan his Mustang. It was a 1966, cherry red convertible, and it looked like it was brand new.

I’d arranged to rent a parking space in the secure garage under our building, and Zan’s manager Steve, had helped me get the car delivered tonight. I couldn’t wait to go home so I could surprise Zan.

I knew how much he would love it, and I would love seeing the joy on his face.

Of course I knew how we would be celebrating afterward, probably in the car. I could also imagine how much fun we would have in the car for years to come.





(Zan’s POV)

My gaze followed my angel as she continued to slowly walk through the gallery.

This was my first show in this gallery, and while I was supposed to be talking art, I couldn’t stop looking at her.

The dress skimmed her body, seeming to float around her thighs as she moved, and the color reminded me of the first day I’d seen her. She was so beautiful but so innocent, and I knew immediately that she would change my life.

I was aware of the hum of conversation around me, but didn’t really pay attention until I heard my name for possibly the third or fourth time. Reluctantly I focused on my manager Steve, who was trying to get my attention.

“What?” I asked.

He’d wanted me to talk to an older couple who had just bought several of my paintings, but of course my mind had wandered when I’d seen my angel across the room.

“Who is that you’re looking at?” asked the woman. “She’s beautiful.”

“My wife,” I said proudly, refocusing on Liz.

“How sweet,” she said. “I can spot newlyweds a mile away because you can always see how much they’re in love.”

I looked back to the woman, “Tomorrow is our five year anniversary.”

“Oh,” she said, “you artists are so passionate.”

“You have no idea,” Steve said with a smile. “Zan’s surprising her with a second honeymoon to Paris. He arranged the whole thing, the travel, accommodations, getting her time off. He even packed for her, so all she has to do tomorrow morning is get on the plane.”

“How romantic!” the woman said. “When are you going to tell her?”

“Tonight,” I said.

“Well don’t stand here talking to us,” she said. “Go be with your beautiful wife.”

I nodded. “Thank you.”

I didn’t wait for them to change their minds, but headed across the gallery to where I’d last seen Liz.

As I walked, I couldn’t help but think about our first honeymoon.

We’d loved our time in the Florida beach house so much that we’d decided to do basically the same thing, but a little farther south, in St. Thomas.

I’d gotten us an out of the way house with a private beach where we’d been free to make love as much and in as many places as we wanted. We’d even gotten to try out all the water fantasies I’d imagined back in Florida, including having sex on the beach at night as the waves crashed over us.

It had been incredible, and completely worth it, even if we had found sand in bizarre places for the next couple of days.

And Paris would be just as great.

Liz has been working so hard, and we’ve only been able to get away for a couple of quick trips, but this time I had it all worked out. I’d arranged with her thesis advisor and the lab she works at for her to have a month off.

My angel told me it had always been a dream of hers to visit Paris, and I want to give it to her.

I’d gotten us an apartment right in the center of town, and we could take day trips to the country, and visit famous places or museums or whatever my baby wants to do.

It would be a great vacation for both of us. It was Liz’s dream, but it was one of mine too. What artist doesn’t want to experience the city that influenced so many of the best artists? But I was looking forward to it for more than that.

I was looking forward to experiencing it all with my angel. I could just imagine the look of surprise when I told her about our plans, the look of wonder when she first sees the city, and the look of awe when she sees the Eiffel Tower or Notre Dame.

I was looking forward to seeing the love that fills her eyes, and wondered how it might be different in a new city. And of course I was looking forward to seeing the look of ultimate pleasure on her face, in as many places and positions as possible.

For weeks I’d imagined her beautiful body lit by the Paris sun and moon as we made love. I was anticipating a whole new series of paintings of my beautiful baby.

Finally I found her, looking at one of my paintings and I slid my arms around her from behind, smiling as her body automatically fitted against me, and her hands covered mine.

“Have I told you how incredible you look in that dress?” I said softly in ear. “So fucking sexy.”

She pressed her cheek to mine, “About five times,” she said with a laugh, “but I’m not complaining.”

“So,” I said, kissing her neck, “we already determined at home that you couldn’t be wearing a bra.” I stroked her naked back, “But it makes me wonder what panties you’ve worn.”

“Well,” she said, wiggling her sweet ass against my already-hard cock, “I guess you’ll just have to wait till we get back home to see.”

“Wait, hell,” I objected.

“It’s a little too public for me to show you here,” she said innocently.

I smiled. “Well,” I said, letting my hand linger low on her hip as I pressed my erection against her, “I found this nice little coat room, and it even has a lock.”



~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


THE END



Here is a wedding picture I made of Zan and Liz.

Just imagine Zan whispering into Liz's ear about what they did before the wedding and her trying not to blush as the photo is taken.






Arms of an Artist
Main
The Artist Series Main
Fanfic Main
Back to Main
Contact