” Hmm. There wasn’t going to be any first names here, I could tell. Apparently, my jeans weren’t what was expected of an artist in New York.“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Caldwell.” He ignored my offered hand.“This gallery is too big for your collection. We expected more pieces. You do have more, don’t you?” he asked as we entered the room.“Of course,” I said, subconsciously adopting a bit of his snooty tone, “just not for you.” Clarice nodded subtly to me. The room was large, but I couldn’t see that it was too big. Clarice pulled Melody aside and left me to Caldwell. What the fuck? He was conducting a meaningless tour of the space and listing a bunch of names of artists who had shown there. It seemed like his entire purpose was to put me in awe of their eminence and how privileged I was to be here. A minute after Clarice disappeared with Melody my phone buzzed with a text.“Feed it back to the buzzard. Be a prima donna. It’s all he understands,” Clarice’s message said. She warned me in a. She lay back and eased her knickers down to her knees, presenting an alluring sight, before kicking them off onto the floor. Still clothed in my trousers and t-shirt, I lay down next to her, leaning up on an elbow, and ran a hand over her warm stomach, wondering where to start my exploration of her body.What I wasn't expecting was her to reach up and kiss me, hard, on the lips. But it felt so good, so right, that I responded instantly, our tongues meshing, my hand sliding across her hips and down to her arse, pulling our bodies together. We broke apart, and I looked at her closely, her eyes shining. "Please fuck me," she said simply.I was intending her first time to be slow, sensual, erotic. But now I was feeling as desperate as she was! I quickly sat up and took my t-shirt off, unbuttoned my trousers and slid them and my boxer shorts down and off. Turning back to Leanne, I slid my hand over her hard little nipple and bent my head to take it into my mouth. She gasped as I sucked it,.
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