November can be unpredictable in these parts, and while our original plan was to take a nice long walk along the waterfront, the clear skies quickly turned black, and rain began to pour, forcing us to take cover in the lobby of an art gallery.
As we stood in the lobby looking out to the rain drops bouncing off of the pavement of the parking lot, drops of water fell from our rain-soaked coats onto the floor where we stood creating a ring-shaped puddle around our feet.
We looked at each other and laughed at the sorry sight that we were.
"I don't think this is going to let up for a while," I said, wishing that I had taken the umbrella out of the trunk of my car before setting out on our walk, "Why don't we go into the gallery while we wait this out?"
"That could be fun!" She said as we both turned to head up the stairs into the gallery where a new art exhibit had just opened the day prior.
As she walked up the stairs ahead of me I watched her nicely shaped buttocks which was tightly wrapped in a pair of black yoga pants. The material hugged her curves in a way that showed off her beautiful figure without coming off as slutty. As she climbed the stairs she removed her coat which was heavy with rain water, but the form fitting t-shirt below was surprisingly dry. As she turned on a landing before heading up the next short flight of stairs, I felt a warmth building inside me as I admired her profile from her right side.
The little pink t-shirt stretched over her breasts, and clung tightly to her abdomen, and the bottom hem fell short of meeting the band of her yoga pants, offering a sexy glimpse of her soft, white skin.
She shook her hand through her auburn coloured hair, spraying a mist of water around her as she continued up the stairs.
As we entered the gallery, she set her coat on the back of a folding chair, and she pressed her hand into mine. Our fingers interlaced as we walked across the creaky wooden floors of the gallery sending a tingle through my body.
Though we had been getting together regularly for the last two months, we weren't really dating. Our relationship was largely sexual, and was mostly contained between the walls of my bedroom, so we had never talked about things like love, or partnership, and we certainly hadn't held hands in a public place as we were doing then.
Though I had no desire to move toward an actual relationship, the feeling of her soft, thin hand in mine, stirred feelings in me that I didn't want to entertain at the time, but those feelings were causing a hardening between my legs as we wandered the gallery.
As far as I could tell, the exhibit lacked a formal theme – unless the theme was a group of local artists from various disciplines, and a wide range of styles piling their work into the two large rooms of the gallery in a disjointed, and uncoordinated fashion.
Still, the patchwork of colours had an interesting effect, and as rain continued to knock against the windows of the gallery, it was a nice way to pass the time.
Her grip on my hand tightened as we approached one particularly large painting. Stopping in front of it, she turned and looked at me with her large green eyes, and smiled.
"It is beautiful!" She said, "It is kinda vaginal though, don't you think?"
I stepped back a little for a better view of the painting which was of a large, pinkish-red flower in full bloom. I don't know flowers well, so I had no idea what type of flower it was supposed to be, but she was right, there was certainly a sexy, vaginal quality to the folds of the petals on the flower. If it was intentional, it was very well done, and if not, it was certainly a happy accident.
"It makes me think of how amazing you are at licking my pussy," she whispered in my ear.
There was no need to whisper, as we were the only people in the gallery, but the feeling of her hot breath on my neck as she whispered in my ear further hardened my already throbbing cock.
We continued through the exhibit, taking in the wide range of water colours, oils, sketches, and even a few small sculptures which were encased in glass boxes in the centre of the gallery. After we had seen the entire exhibit we found ourselves back in front of the painting which we now jokingly referred to as the "pussy-flower."
Again her fingers tightened around my own, and she smiled at me as she said that the painting made her horny. Then she tugged on my arm and said "Let's go."
We exited the gallery and were heading down the hallway toward the stairs. We didn't reach the stairs however as when we were passing the door to the men's room, she pushed into me with her shoulder, and said "Let's slip in here."
The large door slowly closed behind us, and we were alone in an empty, and surprisingly clean public washroom.
She tugged on my arm again, and pulled me toward one of the stalls.
