2. Becoming His Muse

Transcript

By 8 p.m. , the gallery is packed with anyone who's anyone in the art scene. The ladies' room is no exception.

I'm reapplying my lipstick, listening to the director of the Whitney's Girlfriend talk to her friend in a neighboring stall. I heard the artist is like a total mob. He paints these wildly sexual portraits, dripping wet women with perfect hits.

But he does it all in total silence, like some kind of artistic freak of nature. Which is unfortunate because it's clearly a total hunk. The last few hours have been a blur.

It's a miracle we got everything installed on time. As soon as the storm passed, Guillermo and I went turbo mode setting up the space. Just as people started showing up, critics and museum directors have been all over him.

And I've been running around like mad, refilling Aperol spritz supplies and Purell dispensers. Honestly, it's a relief to hear that bathroom gossip. Truth is, these paintings are ridiculously hot.

It's hard not to be turned on looking at them. I was starting to assume Guillermo is some kind of painter fuckboy who's felt up every gallery girl and then some. But maybe I'm not giving him enough credit.

I spot him across the room. Guillermo is talking to a group of salt-and-pepper-haired men in blazers and jeans. He stands out in his t-shirt and thick mop of unruly brown curls.

His brow is furrowed and he's knotted methodically. His gaze meets mine. A rush of blood rushes to my face and I'm sure I turn bright red.

Guillermo laughs. Either at something one of the men said or at my obvious nerves. He smiles a cocky smile like he knows exactly what I want right now.

It's not like me to lose my cool so easily. I don't know what it is about him. Maybe a combination of his raw talent, adorable personality, perfect face.

I'm fully wet. Okay, okay. Focus on the event.

Cups. We need more cups. I head downstairs to the basement storage room.

It's cool and quiet in the unfinished cellar. I take a moment to slow my breath. I didn't realize how tense I've been for the past few hours.

I drop my shoulders, lean my back against the wall and close my eyes for a moment. Yeah, this is nice. I smell him before I see him.

The waft of sandalwood and eucalyptus. Ah, there she is. In the darkness of the basement, Guillermo's silhouette looks like a statue of some kind of Greek god.

I was worried you forgot about me. Sorry, who are you again? I walk my fingers around the collar of Guillermo's shirt and then tug to bring him closer to me.

Guillermo runs his hand down my spine, finding the small of my back. His hand pauses for a moment. He pushes me closer so my hips are pressing up against him.

I can feel his dick thicken in his jeans. Someone could come down any moment. My boss is somewhere up there.

I run my fingers playfully around Guillermo's lips, slipping my index finger in his mouth as Guillermo's hand works its way slowly over my ass, curls down my thigh, then walks right back up it. Oh, I agree, Yana. Someone could come any moment.

I've actually been thinking about someone coming all evening. Not about your boss, though. Guillermo's finger slips under my G-string and seamlessly finds its way inside of me.

I've been waiting for this moment for hours. Fuck, you're good with your hands. Why are you so good at that? Oh, you know, artists just outline the beauty that's already there.

I would usually roll my eyes at that kind of thing, but they're already rolling into the back of my head out of sheer pleasure. Guillermo drops to his knees, keeping his fingers inside me. He pulls down my thong so his tongue can join in, first licking around my clit and circling it, teasing it, then slow building until he is feverishly lapping at my clit.

Oh my god, you're so wet. Uh-huh. Uff, que rico.

Fuck, I was thinking about this all day, Yana. Oh my god. Oh my god.

Te gusta? You like that? Yeah.

Oh, fuck. A rush surges through my body. Uh-huh.

He squeezes my ass cheeks. I can hear people upstairs. They're so close by.

I think about all the important people upstairs, desperate to meet Bushwick's newest, mysterious artistic genius. Everyone upstairs, dripping and horny for Guillermo. But I'm the one with his head between my legs.

Oh, que rico, coño. Oh my god. Tastes so fucking good.

Say it again. Oh, que rico, baby. Uh-huh.

Oh, you're so fucking wet. Just like that. I love when you speak Spanish to me.

Yeah, te gusta eso? You like that? Guillermo looks up at me, his lips glistening wet, big puppy dog eyes batting their lashes.

He wants to please me so bad, and he's doing it so well. Don't stop. My heart beats in my groin, faster and faster.

Guillermo's warm breath fills my insides, rushing up inside me, surging throughout my entire body until my spine is tingling and everything is throbbing. I give myself over to his hungry mouth. The orgasm rips through me, dissolving me.

Yes, baby. Oh my god. Yes, baby.

Si, si, si. Si, si, si. Just like that.

Si, baby. Just like that. Oh my god.

Ay, coño, que rico. Mmm. I am completely outside of my body.

Guillermo pulls my thong back up as I regain control over my breaths. He smooths my dress back down over my ass and rubs it, giving it a final squeeze before standing back up. Mmm, fuck.

I cannot wait for this opening to be over, so I can really get inside of you. Yeah, um, the feeling is mutual. www.larryweaver.com.