Gina, the Gallery Girl

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John clattered down the granite stairs and out onto Harlow Street, hanging a quick left. Immediately before him was a tall woman he was going to crash into. John could just barely push a foot to try to miss her, but he had a head of speed.

He only brushed her shoulder and hip, but the course change set him at high velocity directly at a city litter basket. He watched the contact approach, the light pole, the iron bracket, sickeningly aware that it would hurt and that it was inevitable. It is moments like these which life is lived in a manner to avoid.

A slim arm hooked his waist and he was slowed enough to meet the basket with his feet, not his face and body. The woman supported him to regain his balance, so that he came to rest on the sidewalk, amazed to be whole.

“Slow down, there,” she said, “you’ll get hurt!” Her face was stretched by a friendly grin. John was tripping all over himself thanking her, and he already looked pretty ridiculous even before he began.

Once that was over, he had decided that being civil to his good looking rescuer was more important than getting back quickly. So he accompanied her and they introduced themselves to one another for a couple of blocks. She reached her destination, an office building with a gallery on the first floor, locked up.

She fished keys from her bag and asked if she could meet him for lunch at the Bagel Shop.

“Any time in the next week. I have to work now, but we aren’t done talking.”

I go to school was on his lips, but he sensed something.

“Tomorrow’s good. What time?”

So he had to plan to skip school to make a twelve-thirty lunch date with a classy gallery girl with a fast and accurate arm on her. She seemed happy about it and took her leave into the gallery, and John floated off down Central Street.

“What just happened, anyway, John, you idiot. She’s fuckin thirty or something, I don’t understand.” John talked to himself when the going got weird, it seemed to help. It didn’t resolve any mysteries for him this time. But he was going to skip and be there anyway.

He liked her amused eyes and the way she moved, so muscular yet so feminine. And he was sure there was some kind of attraction he was exerting on her. She did want to see him again, it wasn’t a rhetorical thing.

The scene haunted him until late in the night.

The Bagel Shop smelled as good as ever, of lentil soup, lox, bagels and eggs. He got in line but didn’t see Gina. He was ordering a bagel when a set of tits were laid across his shoulders. He had to interrupt an impulse to turn, because to do so would have thrust his face into them. Gina stroked fingers lightly over John’s ear and neck, saying, “Sorry I’m late! Forgive me!”

She disengaged from him and requested the line’s indulgence, she was late, they were together. She offered to pick up the whole tab and ordered her soup and egg salad. He followed at the elbow of his effusive tall companion and took a seat with her in a booth.

The shop always steamed up its windows, but the intention of the booth had been to allow people to watch the street. So the booth was a well lit space and the window a vast array of little M. C. Eschers of cars and pedestrians curved to fit in ten thousand colored beads of water. Gina smelled a little too floral but she was so obviously charmed to be with him that he settled in next to her as she indicated he should.

“You look nice, Gina,” he told her. She had a ’40’s style skirt and waspwaisted jacket in a medium gray serge with a little toque bearing a spray of veil. Silver and pearl accents, a pin, a silk scarf set in the cleavage.

“I had a date! Listen, you had to skip school to be here, didn’t you? I thought maybe. You should come see the gallery, we’re going great guns. We’ll be ready to open in less than a month. You can stay off the street in case your mother’s friends drive by and wonder if you shouldn’t be in school. Okay? Right after lunch, it’ll be a good break for me to show you what I’ve got. Good!” She squeezed his thigh and gave it a pat to seal the deal.

Their food came and was duly dealt with. She got him to tell about himself, who his girlfriend was, what went on in his school and his life, and she in her turn told a story about a big controversial exhibit with naked mannequin sculptures, assemblages addressing sex role issues. This developed into a conversation about their attitudes toward sex and nudity.

At the gallery she locked the street door behind them without discussion of it; evidently it was just locked all the time until the place had its grand opening. “The workmen are gone to lunch so we won’t be bothering them.” The place was half-lit and echoing and smelled of sawdust and carpet. The gallery lighting systems were something John had never considered, very versatile and very unobtrusive.

After the spaces still under construction, she led him through finished areas where artworks were stored. Gina pointed out an angel with casino oyna absolutely torrid buns, oozing sexuality from the rear but pure and radiantly innocent from the front, a sculpture more than life size. John said “Nice bottom” in a noncommittal way, and Gina chuckled.

“That’s what I said! When I caught you–” she quelled his interruption– “I saw your nice little buns, and said the same thing!”

John focused on the fact that he was locked in alone with her and no one knew where he was at all. A lot of the joy leaked right out of the encounter with this reflection.

Gina saw he’d suddenly frozen. “I’m being terrible, I’m sorry, please just forget that, I don’t know what made me say something like that.” She bobbed her head lower to try and catch his eye, smiling.

“It’s not so terrible to be told you have nice buns! Don’t worry about it,” John said, but his disquiet persisted. He told himself, though, that he was only here because he felt the same way. “I kinda fell for you at the same time, anyway.”

“You did? I wondered, but you really came to lunch, even from school, it made me feel warm and appreciated, you know?”


“Look, I have another thing or two I want you to get a good look at, just a second…” Gina put her bag on a couple of low crates, and fished in it. Bending forward she gave John a really good look at a couple of things down the front of the double-breasted jacket. Very firm and luscious looking in the half light.

She came up with a key on a red tag. “It’s downstairs, see if you can guess what it’s for. We found it here when we moved in, after we had the lock drilled out and replaced.”

She clicked off in her heels and led him past artworks to a corner stairwell and down. The utilitarian corridor down there had a fire door in it, which the key let them through. The room behind it was windowless and pitch dark until she flipped breakers in a panel.

It turned out to be two rooms, a small anteroom and a large room beyond. The room beyond had a bed, a couch, a couple of sturdy hardback chairs, various different rugs and bed furnishings, lamps, dead plants in floor pots and in hanging ones, and some lumber. On the lumber were mysterious devices of cloth and metal which were broken umbrella-like structures of white and gold. A standing fan.

The furniture was arranged along two walls, and the lumber and the fan and the umbrella things scattered along the other two. John looked up and saw the large hooks and eyebolts protruding from the ceiling, which had been painted flat black. The anteroom had some tables and chairs and a rack for clothes.

“No idea,” John said. “It looks like a set, the way only two walls are real.”

“We believe someone used this to make porn movies. It’s secret and there’s only the bed and couch, and the bed there is screwed down to the floor. Then there’s the hardware in the ceiling.”

“Wow. It’s pretty dusty. And the plants are dead.”

“I don’t know, there’s never any sun here, the plants must have been just stuffed in here when they left, or I suppose they could have had grow lights.”

“This must have been strange to discover,” John speculated.

“It might have been fun to find it when it was still being used, with the lighting and so forth all set up. And also, you know, people having sex in front of guys with cameras.”

John sat on the bed looking up at her, which is a question. “The bed doesn’t seem dusty or anything.”

“I’ve used it. It can be handy to have a bed here.” She sat around the corner from him, looking into his face expectantly, which is one answer to a question. After a few kisses and unbuttonings her open bra dropped its fruit into his mouth.

Feeding him tits she unbuttoned his shirt and loosened his belt. She was strong, John could feel it as she worked the buckle. Swimming? Maybe it’s just the fingers, from music or something. She kept her perfect small tits in his range as she felt around in his pants with strong fingers like ice. He remarked on their cold and their strength and got a tight preoccupied smile in response. Was she nervous? Guilty?

Oh God, why do I let myself in for this, he’ll do one of those scenes again, you just watch, Gina told herself, I couldn’t stand it. And he in high school, they could fuckin’ lynch me! I gotta stop this, right now. I got a great excuse.

“I feel so guilty about it, you know, how young you are,” she began, pulling away. “I’m sorry, I know it’s unfair, I just can’t.”

But she was lying, and John thought he could tell she was. She was afraid, but not of his youth. She too obviously relished his youth. He removed his pants and sat on the edge of the hard bed, and she said nothing while he did it, just watched him, every move.

He came to rest and she was staring at his crotch. He reached a hand and she brought her head down and sucked him softly and sweetly, kneeling upon the thick porn film carpet bobbing her head with her eyes closed. After some time, canlı casino she sat upright, releasing him, shaking her hair back. “Christ, John. I don’t know.”

“Eighteen’s legal. Don’t be wigged out. It’s okay, suck me.”

Gina stared at him like he’d showed her Kidd’s buried gold, an expression of surprise and then a blast of laughter, very loud, which she stifled. A harlequin feeling struck Gina, and she blurted it out. “That’s exactly what I say!”

“What’s so funny?”

“What you just said! Oh, I’m sorry, just gimme a second. You couldn’t know, so you don’t get it yet. Wait’ll you do, though!” Gina stood, pulling her blouse out of the ’40’s skirt and unbuttoning her cuffs. “In the meantime, you are right!” Her blouse and bra landed on the back of a chair, and she soon sent the skirt to follow it. She knelt and lapped his balls, kissed the cockhead, and tilted her head brightly at him. “I really ought to suck that cock.”

Her breasts and upper arms made a beautiful backdrop for one of John’s favorite sights, a new woman sucking on him. “Stand up, I want to lick around a little better.” She writhed on the carpet between his legs, groveling and licking, bag asshole cock asscheek, stroking his thighs. Then she stood up on her knees and took him deep a few strokes.

“I really am so too old for you. God, I turn twenty-seven in January. I want you so bad I lost my mind and made a play for you, even though, like, it was stupid risky. And I figured you’d, oh just a minute, just a second…”

She sucked him with ardor. She turned her face up and closed her eyes, then slid it under him so his bag and his cock slid all over her face and hair, taking a facebath in cock, then a duck under to lick his ass. She was abasing herself as if his crotch were a fane.

She paused on his ass long enough to tip him off that she had a real interest in it. When she came out from under him she was weeping. “When you found out I knew you’d hate me. You could ruin me so easy if you hated me, I got scared and decided to give you up until you had me suck you. Will you hate me?”

“I don’t think so, I don’t hate people much. I can’t think of a soul I hate now, except maybe Dad, but I keep forgiving him, too.”

He knelt in front of her and hugged her, and she let herself cry on his shoulder.

“You don’t have to tell me anything, you know, but I can be pretty sure not to hate you.”

Her wet eyes met his, and she took a breath. “Okay, now don’t be wigged out! I’m a man.”

“I didn’t hear you.”

“Yeah, you did.”

“You’re a man?” Gina nodded tearfully and looked away.

There they were, tits. They still looked real. Maybe they were, it was a hormone thing, maybe if you got the right hormones you got to grow real ones, John wasn’t sure. They don’t get into that kind of detail in health class. John got undistracted by the tits and met Gina’s eyes again.

Gina stood and reached under the slip. Her panties and stockings slid off her legs. She hooked her thumbs into the slip and stepped in close to John’s face to reveal the cock and balls directly before the kneeling boy’s eyes.

Tits, and this too. John did one big shudder as the replay of his words came back to his mind: don’t be wigged out, it’s okay, just suck me.

“You could fuck me up the ass, couldn’t you?” John asked in awe.

“I almost never want to; it’s always me taking the cock. I like it that way, and I’m having surgery to become a woman when I get enough money. There’s a lot to it, therapy, hormones, you wouldn’t believe.”

“But you can fuck me?”

“Well of course.”

“If you don’t want to, I’ll understand, sort of, I guess. I’m not understanding any of this real well.”

“I really did want to when I saw it and kissed it. You’re so little and beautiful I wanted to sully you!” John just blinked. He wasn’t emerging from his own head very much, there was too much to process.

“Okay, turn around.” She did, and he looked at the ass. It didn’t look so great now that it was a guy’s ass, but if it hadn’t been, he’d have fucked it joyfully, it looked good in a slim way. A lot of women don’t have very womanly asses, he reflected. He leaned in and licked the hairless darkened skin. Without the pussy smell it really was a different experience. Gina cried out to feel his tongue. “You haven’t had time for an enema,” John said, “me neither.”

“Actually, I took one just before our lunch. You know, hoping. Please, tell me we can.”

“I can do it, but I’m not sure about the sucking.”

“You don’t have to do that, baby, I’ll do plenty of sucking!”

“I never even considered sucking!”

“I hope you do! Let me. Lie down so you can think, and I’ll suck you. Thanks for not hating me,” she took his cock in and laved it with a busy tongue, “and thanks for your little tongue just now,” she throated him a couple times, “and thanks for thinking I was beautiful.” She settled him back, got him a pillow for his head so he could watch, kaçak casino and sucked slow and deep.

“I can hardly wait,” she put in, “to fuck your ass, little boy. Come in my mouth now.”

“Oh, God. Suck. You’re going to fuck my virgin ass?” John had learned that women responded to the nasty talk.

“Oh fuck, yes, I want it.”

“You’ll push it in deep and come inside me?”

“I’m gonna,” suck, suck, “come,” suck suck suck, “in your little ass!”

“Will you suck me whenever I want your slutty mouth?”

“Oh yes, always!” Gina lapped him frantically.

“Lick it right now! Tongue fuck me, you beautiful thing, I want tongue.”

She attacked it with passion. John let her up after a while. It was the first time he’d ever made anyone hard, as far as he knew, which was strange. He opened his mouth and cruised it down Gina’s cock and back up. He licked the head underneath a little.

The world kept right on spinning and he was still skipping school in the basement of a gallery. Nothing changed except Gina’s cock was wetter now. “Fuck me, Gina.”

“Turn for me, little boy, you’re going to take cock.”

She got a tube from the night table by the bed and lubed him while he arranged his body, ass high, to be penetrated by a very strange man he’d known three hours. Life can be unexpected.

She placed it and leaned into it. Pop! Right down in nice and slow. Hard but soft. Full to the brim.

“I haven’t done anything like this in so many years,” she said, “But this is really special.” She stretched him with circular motions and short strokes, telling him to relax and just get fucked.

She felt hard and thick, not as thick as Carmela’s sex toy, but longer. The squishy meat slid in and out feeling wonderful. John was amazed to be buttfucked. The girl humped him, calling him so tight, so pretty, so fuckable and tasty, fucking harder and more confidently, feeling the coming orgasm gathering itself.

“I been wondering how this feels,” John remarked. “I like this. Screw me, Gina.” He could turn his head and see the breasts shake on the slim chest as Gina rode him. Cock slid down into him and pulled quickly back for the next slam, his ass tingled with delicious friction. “Oh Gina, this is so good.”

“You are a little slut, John.”

But thanks to modern science we know what to do with sluts: fuck ’em. Gina was breathlessly doing just that, and very close to her release. Suddenly she jacked her body straight and emitted a series of low-pitched grunts from the lipsticked mouth. John was pinned like a fly to a board, she was extremely deep! And then came spurts of warm cum in pulses along the thick hank of cockmeat and into his pelvic cavity, a subtle feeling he had to pay close attention to catch. She let out a breath and regained mobility, but her knees were rubbery.

“I gotta lie down, my knees are gone. My God, that was fabulous. Are you okay?” She retracted herself and subsided onto the bed. She took in the spectacle of the boy, asshole hanging open wide, uncoiling and turning an unseeing gaze to her face, then fixing on the instrument of his deflowering.

John wanted to taste it, but had to shelve some inner misgivings. After a fascinated pause, he moved in and sucked, drawing the last threads of cum out of the softened cock. It was like his own only different, indefinable. “I don’t think it’ll ever take the place of pussy. Lick me now,” John requested. “When I’m hard I can fuck you.”

The cold wind blew powdery snow in swirls against the gallery windows. John thrust his hands in his coat pockets and watched his gallery girl step briskly to the door. Gina blew him a kiss through the glass door and worked the strange cylindrical key. She wore a short flared skirt in a pinstripe gray, made of poplin or some such shiny lightweight fabric, with the tails of the blouse out and over them a golden chain of coins at the waist. The blouse was a crisp white with single-thread plum stripes, darted at the waist with long cuffs with four buttons, surmounted by a bobbed jacket in the same pinstripe as the skirt. More coins at ear and wrist. Flash. Style. Nice little body. Every fortyish man on Central Street was looking forward to the opening of the gallery, for which Gina herself was the best advertising.

Gina brought him in out of the cold and they chattered– about Bab Five, of all things– on the way to the cellar porn studio. Before the door Gina took him in her arms. “I’m too hungry to hug you to wait! Mmm. You feel good. How are things with your girlfriend? She gonna let you eat her?”

Gina had a technical interest in John and his girl, and she was removed so far from the everyday, in John’s mind. She seemed to him to live in a locked gallery and she revealed her utter strangeness in a secret underground room; she seemed almost unconnected to the real, so John felt exempted to discuss his sexual progress with his real life girl.

“Yesterday afternoon on a hillside behind the school she let me lick her for almost a half hour.” Gina unlocked the fire door and flipped the breaker. “I had to nuzzle the cloth for a while first, she soaked her panties before she took them down for me.”

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