"I can trust you to stay out of trouble, can't I?" Yvonne asked Cammy as they walked down Chartres Street. Around them the noisy crowds of tourists and French Quarter types moved along the narrow street, in and out of the shops. Cammy looked up at the beautiful woman and smiled. Trouble? After yesterday afternoon? Hell, yes. The last thing in the world that interested her right now was a hard piece of cock. Her body was still sore from that gang-fuck. Her ass, especially, was still sore from the reaming Dustin gave it.
"I'LI be all right," the girl assured her. "You worry about yourself, the way you look today." She was right. Yvonne had never seemed more beautiful. Her hot pink dress showed off her black hair, her dark brown eyes, her fabulous body. It was Yvonne who could get in trouble the way she was dressed. Especially in the French Quarter.
This was the first time Cammy had come with her sister-in-law to New Orleans. She'd gone any number of limes, maybe two or three trips a month, with Antoine Gilbert. There was a special magic, though, in coming with Yvonne. The dark-haired beauty seemed to belong in New Orleans. She had lived there for several years before she married Gilbert. Yvonne knew all about the quarter, knew many of the shop owners and artists. Cammy felt important as she walked beside Yvonne and watched the men eye them both.
"It will take me a couple of hours to finish my business," the older girl said. "Have, fun, then, and meet me in the coffee shop later."
The luscious woman turned down Toulouse Street and walked away briskly. Cammy watched her long, slender legs, her softly swinging ass, her long, beautiful black hair. Damn, she was beautiful! What business did she have? No one ever said. Yvonne made her periodic trips to New Orleans on business, but the exact nature of the business was always kept secret. Cammy had sometimes imagined that the lovely woman was a spy, a CIA agent, something like that. She sure as hell knew everybody of importance in Louisiana.
That's her business, Cammy insisted to herself. She walked on toward Jackson Square, thinking of watching some of the artists hawking their paintings along the fence. She'd watched one before who painted with both hands at once. He would take a large board and paint a bayou scene with both hands, then cut it up and sell it piecemeal.
She paused at the corner of the Pontalba Apartments where Yvonne had lived. That always seemed a little strange to the young woman. She'd heard that the apartments were expensive, that they were generally reserved for important political people. How had Yvonne managed to get in the middle of that?
Yvonne again! Cammy insisted to herself that she wasn't going to think any more of her sister-in-law until time to meet her. She walked around the square, looking idly at the constantly repeated scenes of the French Quarter. It seemed as though all the artists painted the same thing. They might be different sizes, in different frames, but they were all of maybe a dozen different scenes. They must paint them aver and over, too. She recognized one gray-haired painter from another visit. He was displaying the same eight paintings she had seen before.
"Portrait?" a cheerful voice called out to her. "Do your portrait?"
She looked up at the huge man. He was bald, but had a full red beard. His blue eyes sparkled down at her. He smiled warmly at her. With his hands spread in an attitude of helplessness, he pleaded with her.
"You made me fall in love with you," he told her. "So you have to let me paint your portrait. You walked right into my life just then. You can't walk right out again, not without letting me paint you."
Cammy laughed at him. Their eyes met in a sparkle of good humor. He looked up and down her body in total appreciation. The girl shivered in delight at the way he looked her over. She was just a bit sorry she hadn't worn some outfit like Yvonne's. She had on a simple blouse and slacks and still he looked at her like she was the most gorgeous woman he'd ever seen.
"Na money," she laughed, spreading her hands as helplessly as he had spread his. "Sorry."
"So what's money?" he asked. "I didn't ask you to buy a portrait, did I? I asked you to let me paint your portrait. That way I have something to remember you by."
Cammy looked over at the display of paintings along the fence. He wasn't bad, to be honest. He wasn't really good, either. His portraits looked like they were copied from photographs in movie magazines. They had no real flair, but they were crisp, clear likenesses. She hesitated, then turned to go.
"It's just too hot to sit here for an hour," she told him and began walking from him. He walked along with her as she left, his eyes still twinkling at her.
"It's cool in my apartment," he told her. "And you can have a glass of wine while you sit."
Afterwards, Cammy was never sure exactly why she agreed. She had promised Yvonne to stay out of trouble, even though the older girl was probably kidding. Still, she would never have normally speed to go to his apartment. Perhaps it was the twinkle in his blue eyes. Perhaps it was the intriguing incongruity between his bald head and the full beard. Perhaps it was just a hidden desire to do something different. For whatever reason, Cammy looked at him a moment, then speed.
"Roger," he smiled, extending his hand. "I'm Roger Braxton."
"Camille Dusseaux," she responded, then walked with him as he led her down St. Ann Street to his apartment in a building between Chartres and Rue Royale. They walked through the gate and entered a small courtyard. Several couples were sitting there sketching. They nodded at Roger and looked Cammy over with approving smiles. She felt their warm gazes as she climbed the stairs with Roger and was ushered into his small, sparsely furnished apartment.
The red-bearded man immediately brought out a bottle of wine and opened it. He gave her a glass and took one himself and stood looking her over with intense study. His eyes towed honest appreciation as they raved over her curves. He didn't seem to be lusting after her, just frankly approving every inch of her. It gave Cammy a delicious feeling to meet with such a gaze from an artist. Roger should know what was beautiful in a woman. He made her foci exquisitely beautiful just the way he looked at her.
"What I'd really like to do," he said, "is to paint you in the nude. You know, do some figure studies on you. I don't get many chances to sketch a body as perfect as yours. You wouldn't mind, would you?"
He said it so smoothly that she had agreed before she fully realized it. She glanced around the room, saw the lovely nude paintings which filled the walls, and nodded her agreement. Sit, if he had painted all these women and thought she had such a perfect body, it was the least thing she could do. She agreed and let him lead her through a doorway into his bedroom. She froze for a moment, but he walked away from her and picked up a sketch pad and pencil.
"All right, take them and lay across the bed," he ordered her matter of hotly. Cammy hesitated, looked at the business-like manner he had assumed, and began undressing. After all, she began telling herself, most artists are queen anyway. She would be in greater danger were she a boy. She slipped out of her clothes and lay across the bed.
Roger came over to her and arranged her body the way he wanted. His hands were very precise and business-like as he touched her. He didn't let his fingers linger on her tits or thighs or ass. He merely arranged her and stepped back to begin sketching rapidly.
He sketched her in a reclining position, then sketched her laying on her tummy and looking up.
He sketched her on her side, then sitting in a weird position with both legs tucked beneath her. Cammy began to enjoy the different ways he posed her. She kept sipping her wine until her head felt light and giddy.
"Let's take a break for a minute," Roger sighed as he tossed his latest sketch aside. "I need to rest my eyes a moment."
He refilled his glass, then brought the bottle over and pound more into Cammy's. As he pound she turned carelessly, letting the wine splash across her chest and down on her thigh. Before she realized it, Roger had set his glass down and taken her by the upper arm.
"Can't let good wine go to waste," he laughed and leaned toward her. He licked the wine from her shoulder and chest. Cammy laughed at the feel of his thick beard brushing over her. She giggled at the ticklish feeling his tongue produced licking over her body. He licked her thigh, his beard brushing into her cunt hairs, then suddenly began licking and kissing more passionately. Cammy was caught by surprise. She started to struggle, then decided to let him play with her. It was fun. She had never had her body kissed and loved like this before. She was tingling from the soft, teasing touch of his lips and tongue and beard.
"Mmmmm," he laughed, "That's the best wine I ever tasted. I should try this more often."
He kissed her shoulders, then moved down onto her tit. Her soft skin stung from the beard, then began to shimmer from the delicious way he licked and kissed. He sucked lightly at a nipple, then continued to kiss her tits, the tops, the bottoms, the sides, in between. He sucked them into swollen delight before moving. He kissed her thighs, inching ever closer toward her pussy, getting nearer and nearer her panting cunt.
"Mmmmm," Cammy admitted. "I like that better than the wine. Give me another glass and I'll pour it all over me."
Roger looked up at her. His blue eyes twinkled. He reached back and handed her the bottle. His lips spread into a broad smile as his eyes dared her to do what she had just suggested. Cammy looked at him in her most sultry fashion. The wine had done its work. She was in no mood to have a dare called on her. She lifted the wine bottle and poured the remainder over her pussy. Cammy smiled as she handed the bottle back to Roger.
"I'll be damned!" he exclaimed. "That's the prettiest thing I ever saw." His huge body began to shake as he laughed with her. He sat the bottle down and grabbed her thighs. His huge hands spread her legs wide and he moved toward her cunt. He licked at the wine. He licked her pussy. He licked into her pussy. Cammy lay back and laughed as he licked and sucked at her. She closed her thighs against his face, feeling his beard tickle her satin skin. The little brunette rolled on the bed, twisting him about as she hugged him with her legs.
"Mmmmm!" he panted at her cunt. "Best wine I ever tasted! Damn if this isn't the finest vintage I can imagine." His immense body shook as he laughed loudly, then sucked and kissed and licked at her pussy with greater fervor.
Cammy sensed a familiar lust building in her loins. That was what had been wrong yesterday when the boys fucked her – there wasn't any fun. Roger was enjoying the fuck itself. He was making it a fun thing. Fucking was play to him. That excited Cammy. She'd been too serious with her screwing in the past. It was a hell of a lot of fun to fuck. It was especially fun with someone like Roger who had such a fabulous sense of humor.
"Oooooo!" she squealed in delight. "Keep me supplied with wine and I'll keep you busy all day."
"You have wine of your own flowing down here now," he chuckled. "This precious little cunt is making its own wine. It's putting out a much finer wine than I could ever afford."
He continued sucking her. The girl shivered in ecstasy as he sucked her into shimmering passion. Her breath came in short gasps. She was unable to hold still on the bed. Roger kept working at her until she could feel the juices pouring through her cunt.
Cammy ran a finger over his earlobes and made small, soft circles. His huge body began to shudder as she teased him into desire as great as her own. She kept at him, matching the way he was sucking her pussy into wild fury. She wanted his cock! She wanted his cock in her hands. She wanted him to pull his cock out and drive it into her.
"Please!" she cried. "Don't tease me any more. Fuck me, Roger. I want your cock in me. Please fuck me!"
"I never let a girl beg," he cautioned her. "I don't believe a girl ever ought to have to ask to be fucked. You want my cock? All you have to do is say so. Glad to oblige a beautiful girl."
He stepped back from the bed and slipped out of his clothes. Cammy stared at his thick cock. It looked delicious, tantalizing. His torso, however, was something else. His size was frightening to her. Damn, he was big! He'd mash her for sure. He'd crush her beneath that massive body.
"Really," he assured her. "I haven't hurt a girl yet. I fuck them all the time, but have yet to have the first complaint."
The great hulk of a man crawled onto the bed beside her. The springs creaked from his weight. The mattress sagged as he lay back against the sheets. He pulled Cammy on top of him and held her, his hands working at the sides of her tits as he pulled her up until his cock was throbbing against her cunt.
"See!" he smiled. "This way you don't have to worry at all. You do the riding. I'll do the fucking."
He let her settle on him and smiled as she nestled her pussy down on the hard shaft. Cammy trembled in excitement as she lowered her cunt over his cock. She bounced on the head of the lunging rod, rubbing her clit sensuously over him, then slowly took the thick, heavy prick into the narrow passageway. She smiled down at him, and jiggled her tits in his face. Roger laughed and reached for the globes, caressing them as he pulled them toward his wide, sensuous mouth.
"Mmmm," he murmured. "Now I can suck these beauties while you ride my cock. Ohhhh, what a little doll I found today. I knew the minute I saw you that you'd be a hell of a fuck."
"How did you know that?" Cammy panted as she felt, a thrill rushing through her body. "How did you know I'd be any good in the sack?"
"Ohhhh!" he gasped as he tongued about the trembling tits. "What a luscious little piece of pussy."
"Come on!" she coaxed. "How did you know? What made you think I was any good?"
Roger looked up from her tits and began to laugh. His laughter did fantastic things with his big cock. Cammy shivered ant shook wildly inside her from the laughter through his immense frame. Her pussy responded frantically, pulsing over his cock in sharp, crisp spans. Her juices were flooding over his pecker, smoothing and greasing the lining of her cunt.
"You're teasing me!" she accused as he continued to laugh at her. He laughed, bouncing her up and down on his cock while he cupped and fondled her tits. "You stop teasing! Why, Roger? Why did you think I'd be a good fuck?"
He pulled her head down to him and rolled from side to side, hugging her with amused affection. His cock began shuddering inside her, driving her cunt into deeper spasms of delight.
"The way you walked," he finally confessed. "I watched the way you swung your ass. I saw the way you stuck your ass and tits out for approval. You're a little girl who likes her body, who likes the feel of her body. You like the way your body works. Fucking is part of the way a body works. So I figured you'd be just, as good a fuck as you were pretty to look at."
He pulled her tits back to his mouth. His beard tickled her sensitive breasts. He rubbed his hair over the nipples, driving the girl into a twisting frenzy atop him. She began rubbing her tits in his face as roughly, as tauntingly as she could. Cammy gasped deeply as he caught a tit in his mouth and sucked stronger than she'd ever been sucked before. She felt, for a moment, as though she would be drawn into his mouth by the suction.
"Ooooooeeee!" she squealed, shuddering over the now driving cock. "Oooooh, I like it! I love it! Fuck me, Roger! You've got me going wild. Fuck me! Ooooooeeee!"
His prick seemed about to launch her into the air as it drove upward into her. She hung on while he hunched them both into the air above the bed. Roger was gasping and panting as frantically as she. He wasn't laughing now. He was fucking with seriousness. He moaned and gasped, shuddering beneath her as his cock rammed deep into her.
"Ahhhhh!" he panted. "Ahhh! Man, you've worked me up! Damn, but I'm ready to blow in you!"
"Yesssss!" she moaned. "Yesssss! Fuck me, Roger! Let me feel all your cum blowing through me!"
He unloaded his giant wad. She felt the spurting, gushing jizz erupt from his prick. She felt it slash through her, triggering her own orgasm. She rode him wildly, happily, ecstatically through joy. She as still riding him as he finally began to cease his mad hunching. She settled softly over the shriveling cock and leaned over to kiss him.
"Mmmm," she sighed, "that was good!" She wanted to thank him for restoring her desire for fucking. She wanted to tell him about the boys yesterday. She smiled into his twinkling blue eyes. No need to. Roger was sensitive, sensitive like an artist should be. He had sensed her need for a fun fuck. He had seen it on her face and answered her needs. She kissed him again and patted his huge ass.
"You'll have to come back again," he told her as they dressed. "You'll have to come back when my wife is here."
"Your wife!" Cammy asked in surprise.
"I'm sure she'd enjoy you as much as I. We can have an evening threesome. Sound like fun?"
Cammy stared a moment, then laughed with dm. Maybe that would be fun. Roger wanted to be sure she didn't think the fuck was anything more than a casual moment of pleasure. He mentioned his wife to be sure she understood. She might surprise him, though he just might accept his offer some afternoon.