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 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..........
