Careful What You Wish

It had been one of my better shows. I had just completed the first day of a two day show. I had sold two paintings and forty sketches. At ten bucks each for the sketches and six hundred for the two oil paintings I was way ahead of most shows. I almost left that night. Instead I took the chance that the buyer of the paintings wouldn't get them home and decide they didn't match the wall paper in her bathroom. I decided to stay on for the Sunday part of the show.


I stopped on the way back to my motel for dinner. I splurged on a steak. I enjoyed the first steak I had eaten in three months. I had made enough to pay the bills from the shows. Every other cent went into a new computer system. I worked damned hard to adapt it to use in painting. So far it had cost me a fortune and had produced no sellable items. I wanted to add a line of low cost note cards to my stock at the shows. I still worked on the programs trying to create a product good enough to display.




After dinner I drove to my motel. It was the one that had agreed to give us a special rate. The rooms usually rented for fifty dollars each. For us they had cut the rate to thirty five. I supposed that weekends were not a big time for motels. Especially holiday week ends, it was after all thanksgiving weekend.


"Hi there, " the vaguely familiar man shouted across the parking lot. "I am on the way to the lounge. I am meeting some people want to join us?"


I recognized him as a wood carver who had a booth in the same row as mine. "Why not, I don't have anything else to do."


The lounge was filled with artist from the show. I didn't recognize any of them. Still you can usually tell when artist get together. For one thing they had only been at it a couple of hours yet they were well on their way to being bombed. The carver and I joined a table with people who seemed to be waiting for him.


"Hello," I said to the thirty year old woman seated beside me. She was at least twenty years younger than me.


She turned to me as soon as I was seated and asked, "You are the sketch artist?"


That statement is usually followed by how can you do that. She was kind enough not to do the predictable.


"So what do you do?"


"Watercolors," she replied. I expected she had resisted the urge to make a snide comment about my work trying to be nice. She had the condescending look of a real snob even without the words. There is no snob like a painter. I should know I am one.


Painters usually look down on everyone else. We think we are the only true artist. To sell ones talent in the market place was almost a sin. It was far worse than being a member of an inferior breed like the wood carver. One could understand his wanting to be an artist. A true artist could never understand how anyone with real talent could sell it for nickels and dimes. The only problem with that argument is that it should be made by gallery painters, not art show painters. They all peddled their work in the market place.


I really don't like arguments so I don't point out the flaw in their reasoning. Sometimes when I drink, I will get in a piss ripper of an argument but not often. I almost quit drinking because of it. I have a couple of drinks at bedtime once in a while.


Since the water color lady had turned her attention to someone more deserving, I sat alone and isolated from the others. If I hadn't been, I probably wouldn't have noticed her at all. She certainly didn't look like any artist I had met. She was tall, blonde and quite beautiful, I knew the lights helped her some. She was probably close to my age which automatically attracted me to her.


The one think that set her apart from the artist was that she was wearing one of those power suits. The suit must have cost more than I had made that day. Also her blonde hair looked as though she had stepped from the pages of a magazine. I have no idea about women's magazines but she looked like that to me.


Women artist tend to lean towards jeans and simple hair styles. I was told that simple clothes and hair styles tend to be less trouble and therefore leave more time for the work. I personally dress like an artist because it is less expensive. I also enjoy the mystique that goes with the whole scene. I expect most of us are pretty much the same.


She definitely wasn't an artist. She was probably a business woman stuck in town over the holidays. She was definitely alone. She also didn't seem to be looking for company.


I expected that all the men in our group were intimidated by her. I know I was. Getting high and being rejected by one of your own was a joke. Being rejected by her would definitely not be a joke.


I finished the coke then went to the men's room. I had to pass her table on the way so I looked at her. Unfortunately she caught me. She didn't smile or look angry. She looked bored. God that hurt. There is a line from a movie. I can't remember the movie but I remember the star saying. "You can kick me. You can kill me but for god's sake don't bore me." That line ran through my mind as our eyes met. She looked away. I continued to the men's room where I took care of by business. I hated that I had to pass her table again on the way back to mine. I really didn't know any of those people. I could just as easily have left through another door.


There was no way I would leave before she did. I figured she wouldn't stay much longer since the place was full of loud obnoxious artist. I went back into the lounge. I found her gone from her table. I was a little glad since I wouldn't have to get caught staring at her again. I found her standing by the jukebox feeding it quarters. She looked to her left, raised her head catching me watching her yet again. She didn't smile but she did motion me over. I looked behind me to make sure she meant me. That time she did smile. She nodded to inform me that I was the one she had invited.


I tried to be cool as I walked toward her. "Hi," I said it not sounding cool at all. I sounded like a little boy. I expected my voice to crack as I went on. "My name is John."


"Hello John, I am Joyce." She shook my hand like a business deal had been struck. I smiled at her with what amounted to almost a laugh.


"What is so funny?" she asked. She seemed curious not offended.


"Make you a deal Joyce. I will tell you after you tell me what you do for a living."


"All right I sell computers," she replied.



"Come on you have to be more than a computer salesman for Circuit City." There was no way she could be a simple salesman looking like she did.


"Well I might sell complete systems to businesses," she admitted. "Does that intimidate you?"


"Not at all, before I tell you what is funny would you answer a question for me." She nodded that she would. I knew that it was conditional on the question. "When you tell people what you do for a living, do they ask you questions about their home computer. You know kind of like a doctor at a party." She broke into laughter. She had expected me to ask her about my computer. When I surprised her by understanding she was thrilled.


"That is an answer I suppose. I and the others are here for an art show. All the loud obnoxious people are artists. Now that said, an artist considers a handshake from a business person as foreplay. I mean, we know that businessmen are about to screw us. That is why I laughed when you put your hand out." She again broke into a throaty laugh


"I am going to have to work that into my next conversation with the boss." She went on to ask, "Do artist really feel that everyone is out to screw them?"


"Most do yes, I mean we don't speak the same language as the geeks. First of all, you over charge us for our materials. Then of all things you buy art because it matches your wallpaper. It is really tough for us to find much to like about you. Except in your case."


"Why is that?" she asked.


"Well, I think every one of us has enjoy watching you. I think I can say that both the men and women here really like the way you look. Not to mention that we appreciate a great snob. Hell we are the worlds experts on being snobbish. Hell we feel superior to everyone. Even each other. She laughed again.


"Are you married?" she asked.


"Several times but not presently." I replied. "How about you?"


She showed me her ring. "Twenty years to the same man. I even have two grown children."


"Why aren't you with him now?" I asked.


"I have been in this town for three weeks installing a new computer system for a blanket manufacturer." I was surprised that she would stay away from home so long, but I didn't say anything. "Do you know all the people in that group?" She asked it as she waved her arms.


"I only know a couple from other shows. This is our first night in town." I pointed out the tinsmith and a couple of painters I had met.
"So where does an artist live?" she asked.


"I live in a storage room sized apartment." I replied. "I got hooked into it by a realtor I went out with a couple of times. All I own of any value is a new computer system.


Somehow we ended up at her table and I began to drink with her. We drank and talked for several hours. The time seemed to fly. Suddenly it was eleven. I found myself rather drunk. I noticed with satisfaction that Joyce was also. I suggested she come to my room for more conversation and another drink.


She said, "No." I wasn't surprise nor disappointed. I had enjoyed the conversation and was willing to settle for that. I was surprised when she said, "But you can come to mine. That is if you understand it is just to talk."


I actually believed her when I said, "Sure."


I stopped at my room to get my own liquor. I did it in self defense, since I hated scotch. Joyce had been drinking scotch all night.


"I bought chips and cheese crackers. I used all the dollar bills I had." I admitted as I placed everything on her table.


Joyce immediately went into the bathroom. While she was gone I busied myself with a pack of cheese crackers. I must have been nervous. I crumbled them before I was able to open the wrapper. I was eating the broken crackers when she returned to the room.


I was about to comment on a humorous incident from the show when Joyce walked over to me. She bent then kissed me. It wasn't a hard kiss, but it built in passion. In the end it had both of us trying to get into each others skins. While we kissed she reached between us and massaged my cock. It was already hard. She managed to make it even stiffer.


When she finally broke the kiss she seemed to want me to speak first. "Do I really have to talk about that. I don't think I have any words to describe it."


Instead of answering she reached for her drink. I did the same. I needed to cool off before I tried rational thought. I didn't have any idea who was supposed to make the next move. If it were me, I had no idea what move to make. We both sat drinking not saying a word. I just looked at her with her breast falling out of the gown. They stood so straight I knew they were not all hers. Of course since she had bought and paid for them I guess they were hers.


She was truly a beautiful woman. At that moment I was filled with admiration and lust. They are not really so strange a combination. I waited while she decided what she would do next. Actually I had two more drinks, drinks I didn't need, before she decided. She never said a word. She move over to the bed then pulled down the covers. She also turned off the lights. I know I'm not too bright but I was able to determine that an invitation had just been offered. I was so drunk that I stumbled in the dark. I managed to find the bed.


I took off all my outer clothes then got under the covers with Joyce. She turned her back to me. I was a little worried that she might just want to fall off to sleep. To tell you the truth, I thought that it might have been all that I was capable of myself. I was wrong about her intentions. She took hold of my hand and guided it to her breast. I rubbed the nipple. I felt it come to life in my hand. Her nipple became very hard and pointed. I was enjoying the sensation.


I moved my other arm under her head and around her shoulders so that I could hold both her breasts. I traced circles around her nipples and was lost in the action for a moment.


Joyce reached between us . She began rubbing my cock through my shorts. She pushed at the waist band until I removed them. I returned to her breast as soon as I could since she didn't roll toward me. The lubricant was flowing from me freely. Joyce began working my cock between the cheeks of her ass. I could feel the friction reduce to nothing as my lubricant flowed over her. She kept it up till I was going mad with lust.


Then she positioned me over her hole and pushed sharply against me. I penetrated her with very little trouble. I could feel the tightness of her until the lubricant from my cock reduced the friction. It was still hot and tight inside her. I could feel the tightness all the way into her. The pressure and heat was the same no matter how deep I penetrated her.


I was afraid I might hurt her but Joyce pushed me deeper into her. When I was in as far as possible she moaned as she began to rock back and forth on me. I didn't know what she was feeling but I knew I was building to a climax. She moved with me and appeared to be as excited as me.


I felt the pressure start in my balls and begin up my cock. I fought to hold it but of course I couldn't. I came with a whimper as I felt the release and relief at the same time. Joyce continued to stroke me so I continued as long as I could. Finally she stopped moving after a final jerk.


"Go to the bathroom and wash yourself. Do a good job honey." She demanded.


I really hated to get out of bed but she was right. Simple hygiene required me to clean up. I used lots of soap on myself. I became turned on again just washing my cock. When I returned to bed she rolled to me and I could tell she had removed her gown.


As soon as I was lying down she forced my head roughly to her swollen breasts. I didn't need the encouragement but it was a real turn on to find a woman who didn't mind being aggressive in bed. My head was still spinning from the liquor and sex but I did a fair job on her breasts. I sucked them as I manipulated the nipples with my tongue. I could tell she was turned on her hips were moving to a rhythm of their own.


I didn't resist when she began pushing my head lower. I was headed for her pussy. She kept both hands forcefully on my head and tried to hurry me to it. I was going too slowly for her. When my head reached her stomach I felt something jab me under the chin. She gave a harder push and forced my head lower. When she did the thing moved to the side of my face. Joyce wasn't a woman at all. Joyce had a cock as large as mine. I tried to move away but I was drunk and she was holding my head firmly.


Just then she began begging. "Please, I let you fuck me. Please just try it I need you so bad. I want to feel your mouth on me please. Just try it for me. Just a little." Her voice was definitely female.


Frankly, I was drunk enough to be curious. I decided just to see how it felt and stop. I moved over until I trapped the head of her cock in my mouth. That is all I intended but her hand pushed me down on it. I felt it move deeper into my mouth. It was as smooth as velvet and as hot as a poker in my mouth. It had a somewhat stale funky taste to it.


Joyce went wild as soon as she got it in my mouth. She began to moan and to fuck wildly at my face. I tried to get away from her but evidently not too hard. She pulled and pushed my head and rammed my mouth with her cock. I could tell she was trying to shove it into my throat. I was trying to pull away when I felt her tense and jerk. I knew from my own feelings that she was about to cum. Her strength doubled as she came. She forced me to take the cum into my mouth. I have no idea what the temperature of cum is but it is hot. I could feel it burn into my throat. When I swallowed more ran into my mouth. I could hardly swallow fast enough to keep from choking.


When she finished cumming she released my head and I fell back. I couldn't get the taste of her out of my mouth. I felt like my mouth was coated with something thick. I felt her leave the bed. She was standing by my side a second later with my drink.


"Here drink this it will help." she suggested with a warm look. I took a drink and it cut through the feeling in my mouth and throat.


Joyce went into the bathroom and returned a moment later. That time she left the bathroom light on. She sat on the bed by me. She kissed me. I didn't resist what was the use, I had been kissing her all night. That was the least of my feelings. Joyce had me confused and frankly I was in a daze and maybe shock.


"Take my cock in your hand hon," she demanded gently.


I just did it. I didn't even think about it. It felt small and soft like my own. The only problem was that as it grew so did mine. Joyce pulled back the covers and began to jack mine. As I felt the warmth spread I began to jack hers. I could feel the lubricant flow from her as well as from me.


"Now get on your hands and knees at the edge of the bed honey," she again demanded.


"No please," I couldn't believe the whine came from me.


"Come on bitch," she said angrily. You have had my cock in your mouth and you have swallowed my cum. You might as well get it all.


I did as she told me. The bed was low so she had very little trouble reaching me. She rubbed her cock along the crack of my ass. I could feel it lubricate me. She tried to enter my ass. It was difficult. The muscles tried to hold her out. She worked at it slowly. She moved her cock slowly until she was able to get it just in the edge of my ass.


I felt a burning sting as she penetrated me. I could feel the fullness of her cock as it moved inside me. When she was in a couple of inches the pain stopped. I felt a thrill I had never known before. For some reason my own cock started to jerk up and down. I felt pressure build in my balls but it didn't rush up my cock. It just kept building and simmering.


Joyce had begun to fuck my ass. I could feel her cock move in and out of my deepest parts. Soon I was mumbling encouragement to her. "Fuck me."


She didn't need it at all. She began to fuck me faster and harder. I could feel her grow harder and longer as she prepared to cum in my ass. I again felt the sensation of heat as she came in me. The pressure on me to cum was unbearable. I was lost in a fog of lust. When she had finished cumming she turned me over and fell upon my cock.


It only took a couple of seconds before I filled her mouth with cum. She swallowed it and sucked some more. When she had all there was she stood and walked to the table. She took her drink and swallowed long and deep. She turned to me and said, "You fuck good for a virgin." I didn't know what to say so I said nothing.


She went into the bathroom. I heard water running in the shower. I would have left then but I frankly was drained and my head was spinning. I didn't even try to figure out why. When she came back she got into the bed and curled up next to me. I had turned away from her so she cuddled up against me. It was strange to feel a dick next to my ass. I guessed that women felt it all the time.

The next morning I left while Joyce slept. I didn't know how I felt about the night before but I knew I didn't want to talk to her about it. My feelings were something I needed to work out alone.

The End....

}