On vacation with her female friend, Wife and mother Jenna Williams sees an arousing photograph in an art gallery of a tied up woman orgasming. Fascinated to learn more about it, she ends up in the artist’s studio and gets much more than she bargained for.

The man in front of her looked exhausted and spent. His large muscles in a state of total relaxation. He had likely been fucked once, twice, and then again, finally collapsing on the lap of a red-haired woman whose voluminous breasts were hanging out of her red dress. Her hands were on his head in what seemed like a gesture of endearment, however, if one looked closer at the painting, one noticed that his hair was being cut. 

His features looked like that of a Biblical Hero, which he was. This was Samson, the original, spent and helpless on the woman – Delilah. In the background scene, a group of men were charging in to capture the now powerless hero.

As she took in the details of the painting, Jenna Williams found herself squirming just a little. She had come here to avoid thinking about sex and yet here it was – staring her in the face again. 

Jenna had reached that age when the idea of sex had become more exciting than the reality of it. Her husband of twenty years was in sales, always talking a great game to anyone within earshot, but rarely delivering on any of his promises. And so it seemed with her marriage, sex, the raising of her son, and the keeping of the house. He was either not there or rarely involved. Still, she hadn’t thought about leaving him like her friend Lenore had just done with her husband.

That’s why Jenna was here, in this warm refuge away from home. Lenore had just finished her divorce and wanted to go away, but had no one to go with. Jenna had plenty of vacation time since her husband Dan tended to go off on his own to golf weekends alone. She thought this would be her time to have some fun.

But all Lenore wanted to do was party and meet men. The first couple nights getting drunk together had been fun, but it soon faded – Lenore would go off with a guy, leaving Jenna to go back to their room alone and wondering what the benefits were to being faithful to a man who really didn’t seem to care that much.

Then there was last night. Jenna came back to her hotel room after a walk along the beach. Much earlier that night Lenore had left with a young surfer type. Jenna was so lost in thought about her own situation that she neglected to think about the do not disturb sign that hung on the door. She thought Lenore had simply come back and just wanted to sleep.

She opened the door to a sight that she’d never forget. Lenore was totally naked on the bed, her pale, curvy body, not yet tanned. She was spread out and coated with a sheen of baby oil. Her legs were spread wide, with the young man from earlier inside her fucking her furiously, while another man of the same age held her wrists at the edge of the bed. Her head was tilted towards the floor as he fucked Lenore’s mouth and throat. With horror and fascination, Jenna focused on his balls, which were particularly large and low and bounced against her friend’s nose and forehead with each thrust.

Jenna had immediately turned around and walked out, heading to the diner next door until a message pinged on her phone telling her she could return to the room. 

She wasn’t sure if she was just irritated or jealous. The young men weren’t exactly her style, but there was something about the sheer freedom and obscenity of the image. She pictured herself for a moment in Lenore’s place – it would be horrific but exciting. There was something about the pent-up energy in both men and their furious desire to get off inside of her. Still, fucking a surf bum was not her thing. Nor would it be. She determined that today, she’d avoid the party lifestyle and indulge in some culture. She found out there was an art exhibition at the museum and was determined to take it in. 

But now, in front of Samson, she realized just how incredibly horny she was, how much she wanted to be desired. Just then she heard a voice over her shoulder.

“He makes you feel like you’re there doesn’t he?”

“Who?” Jenna asked, turning around to see a slim man with piercing eyes and a full kissable mouth.

“Reuebens the painter.” Said the man.

“Oh, is it a Reubens?” Jason said. “I’m just used to his naked women,” she said jokingly. The words came out of her mouth before she realized their implication.

She looked for a reaction in the man. It a was very subtle smile. She liked that. 

“That’s okay,” he said. “You don’t have to know who painted it to appreciate it. There’s something so vivid about this one. Yes, we have Reubens obligatory naked woman, but there’s also that hint of sexual fury. We can only imagine how wildly they went at it for him to collapse like that. His desire for her must have been off the charts,”

“Well,” replied Jenna “She is a beautiful woman.”

“A lot of women are beautiful – on the outside,” the man replied, “But then there’s that added element that makes a woman desirable – the intelligence and energy on her face and in her eyes, her voice, her bearing.” He looked at her knowingly and smiled. Jenna felt herself flush and noticed a trickle of moisture down her leg.

He introduced himself. His name was Peter. She wasn’t sure what to say. “You seem to know a lot about art,”

“I try not to know too much, art snobs are a bit of a bore. But I DO know what I like. When it comes to so many things that’s really all that matters isn’t it?

The energy from Peter was palpable – warmth and humility mixed with intelligence, confidence, and sexual assuredness. The gallery seemed very much his element, despite his downplaying his knowledge. He was so different from the surfers and gigolos Lenore had been chatting up. 

For one, he obviously had experience. Despite his young-looking face and slim physique, he had very light strands of grey in his hair, The effect was pleasing. Her heart pounded in her ears. Then she looked at the next painting. It was also a Reubens but was a scene of aggressive sexual dominance. A voluptuous lady, mostly naked was leaning back on a bed, trying to shield herself from the man who was hovering over her with lust in his eyes, his hand ready to rip the small triangle of red cloth from the blanket that she was using to cover her womanhood.

Jenna felt an even deeper flush as the trickle down her leg grew in intensity. She knew that Peter was watching her and she almost wanted to shield her face in the same way the woman in the painting was shielding her pussy. 

But without warning a second man, this one in a uniform walked up to Peter and whispered something in his ear. This handsome stranger excused himself and left the room, just in time for Jenna to regain her composure. She came here for culture but was constantly being reminded of sex. She decided to leave the Reubens exhibit. 

The next room was extremely quiet and dark as heavy black curtains adorned the perimeter. She was alone now and in front of a sign that said “Photography by Tarquin” There were small signs on the curtains and she realized that each curtain created its own tiny room where one to two people could peruse the art in privacy. There was a warning about adult themes. Curious she pulled aside the black velvet and went in. And what she saw turned her trickle into a torrent.

It was a bigger-than-life colour photo of a woman naked and tied. She was half standing and half sitting in a chair. On the chair, between her legs was a machine that must have been some sort of vibrator. The curvy model was blindfolded with clothespins on her nipples and what was definitely a man’s cum dripping down her face. Jenna could tell by both the tiny muscles around the woman’s mouth and the larger muscles on her arms and legs that she was in mid-orgasm. Every nerve of this woman looked alive with total pleasure. 

Jenna’s own desire was too great. In the privacy of this small space, she slid her hand down her shorts and began to swirl her now swollen clit,. The photo was the most iconic image of a woman’s orgasm she’d ever seen. She could imagine herself in the scene, smelling the cum under her nose, knowing she’d satisfied a man totally and completely. It felt like a wild fantasy, but it had been this model’s reality – now captured for the ages. It was obvious this was a true image and not an act. As Jenna played she noticed the model had many of her same features and imperfections. The man who took the photo obviously liked women who looked like her. This turned Jenna on even more.

“She does look like you, doesn’t she?” The words caught Jenna by surprise. She tried to pull her hand from her shorts but her watch tugged at the beltline. She almost broke her button. It was awkward. Peter could see that she’d been playing with herself.

Her heart pounded “I had no idea you were there.” she said.

“I know,” he replied. Then slowly but confidently, he took her hand, the one that had been down her pants, and put three of her fingers in his mouth, sucking her juices off of her as he stared into her eyes. “The photographer Tarquin obviously loves women like you. I know you’d like to see his studio,” he said. 

Her hand still in his, she let the man lead to to a curtain at the far end of the room. 

The wall behind it was black, but there was a silver-coloured doorknob that stood out against it. Peter opened it and led Jenna in. The walls in this smaller room were black as well. Two powerful studio lights converged in the middle of the room where, on a short riser, was the exact chair from the photo. On the seat was a curved device about a foot and a half wide that had a phallic shape at the top – the vibrator.

“That photo was shot here?” Jenna asked. 

“Yes,” said Peter, “This room is part of art history.”

She felt an arm slide around her waist as Peter moved behind her kissing her neck underneath her hair. She had never been this turned on, but as a married woman, she instinctively protested. 

“No please, this isn’t right?” She said. She heard the questing tone in her own voice and so did he

“Why pleasure yourself when what you really want is to be desired? There is a man behind you that desires you very much. That appreciates all that you are. I saw you look at that photo, wishing you were the model, imagining yourself going through that experience. I’m about to offer you the journey in all of its reality – just like what you’ve seen. And You know once you’ve had it, you’ll remember it for the rest of your life.”

Yes, she knew, but couldn’t bring herself to say anything. Just a nod. It was enough. The blindfold went on first, Then she felt his hands as they took off her top, her shorts, her bra, and panties. His soft fingers slid around her flesh, aggressive but not harsh. He kissed her mouth with his full lips and then disappeared, though she could feel his hands around her ass. He was on his knees now.

“Once you’re on the chair young lady it will be pretty intense. I need to warm you up first.” 

 She felt his tongue sliding up her slit with full exuberance. Despite what he’d said, he didn’t have to do this. She was already very wet. He obviously enjoyed it. Jenna was concerned about her balance particularly being blindfolded, but between his hands on her ass and her hands on the side of his head, she felt in a good position to take this wonderful sliding tongue. She thought of being tied up and being on the chair, her expression like that of the woman in the photo. Between that image and Peter’s mouth, she was already rotating her hips, building up a rhythm to cum. 

Then he stopped. “Oh, we can’t have you enjoying yourself too quickly. There’s still work to be done. I think you’re ready for the next step. Over this way.”

He took her hands and guided her, gently and elegantly towards the chair. She could feel the heat of the lights on her skin as he told her to open her legs and step backward. She felt the end of the phallus brush her naked pussy as she stood over it. Part of her wanted to slide down on it immediately and get herself off furiously, but she waited and trusted the man to give her the experience he’d promised. The ropes used to tie her hands to the back of the wooden chair were softer than she had expected. He knotted them expertly and she quickly realized escape from them would be impossible. She was truly in his power now, totally helpless, but her focus was not on her safety but on her desire. The ropes had enough slack for her to bend forward as Peter guided her into position

“You’re a good girl, aren’t you? No complaints about the pose. Oh if only you could see yourself,”

Of course, Jenna didn’t need to. She thought about the woman in the photo, naked, tied pitched forward, her breasts hanging downward. Appropriately enough, as she thought of breasts she felt her own nipples pinch, and gave a shout, more in surprise than pain.

“I could use nipple clamps on you, but I find clothes pins add a certain spontaneous touch to the image.”

“Now I want you to pose right this way – head and shoulders forward. I know it’s uncomfortable but it’s necessary. My cock will be in your mouth momentarily. And believe me, I shall greatly enjoy it. At a certain point, I’ll tell you to sit down and you can let the machine enter you, but do NOT do it before I tell you. Understand?”

“Yes sir.”

Peter switched on the machine, there was a low industrial-sounding hum that not only entered her ears but also vibrated against her clit. She heard a sound of pleasure echo from her mouth. 

“I’m glad it pleases you dear. But remember, stay where you are, don’t go down on it just yet or you’ll ruin the effect.”

She felt his hands against the side of her head and could smell the faint scent of his manhood underneath her nose. She knew what to do without being told. His cock was a perfect size. It was wide enough to feel like it filled her mouth, but not so long that she would choke on it. 

Right from the start, he didn’t hold back. His rhythm and speed matched his desire for her. Jenna remembered the image of her friend getting her mouth fucked by the surfer, the furious desire he had to get off inside her. This man had that desire for Jenna. And he was a man of quality. She heard him speak.

“Oh yes, my dear your mouth is incredible. You have no idea how much you turn me on. As soon as I saw the way you looked at that first painting I could tell that you would be perfect for me. That respectable exterior and dirty creative mind. Oh God, I knew you’d appreciate this. Mmm, and your beautiful imperfect body is such a work of art. I had to get it in here and see it naked and take your mouth as I fucked your soul…. Oh God Yeah… yeah yeah…

The pounding in Jenna’s mouth had suddenly ceased as the man pulled out. He was obviously cumming, a lot. He held her head and was tactical about his aim. She felt the first thick shot on her upper lip just underneath her nose. She could really smell his pungent desire now. He then pressed against her lips as he unleashed the rest. He told her to keep her mouth closed as he glided his head back and forth across her mouth, all the while pumping his shaft and releasing his essence all over her face. She could feel it begin to slowly slide down. Between that and the vibration glancing against her clit she knew an orgasm would be imminent.

“Sit down now,” said Peter. “And have the orgasm of your life.”

The phallus was vibrating, but it was still easy enough to slide down on it. 

She did as she was told and it instantly brought an unidentified sound out of her. Half moan, half cry, it shook the room along with the low rumbling vibrations that now penetrated her. 

The image of that woman in the photo in that moment was now her. Muscles twitching, nipples pinched to perfection, tied up, and forced into pleasure with a man watching this whole obscene scene. 

It was too much for Jenna, it was impossible to hold back. She felt Peter’s seed drip into her open moaning mouth. The taste of the stranger reminded her of how dirty and hot this was. Her cry shook the walls again as she felt her insides spasm and a spray begin to drench the machine. It seemed to go on forever and then at the very point it began to become excruciating, Peter shut the machine off. 

Jenna’s orgasm had left her weak and in shock. It was almost like a trauma of pleasure. Peter had helped her off the chair and laid her down next to him on a large bed of what seemed like moving blankets. It was surprisingly comfortable He caressed her hair and kissed her gently while letting her rest.

When she was able, he helped her put on her clothes and escorted her out of the art gallery to his waiting car. Unzipping a cooler bag, he gave her a bottle of water.

“You’re exhausted my dear, you need to sleep and rehydrate yourself. I just want you to know how well you performed, how incredible you were and are as a woman.”

The look on her roommate’s face when Peter knocked on the hotel door and led a tottering Jenna into the room was priceless. Lenore assumed of course that Jenna had been drinking. Jenna did not correct her of this notion. 

A few days later, their vacation at an end, they found themselves at the airport. Jenna had not stopped thinking about Peter but also knew the amazing event would not be repeated. She had responsibilities to go back to.

As they walked towards their gate Jenna noticed a familiar curtain of black velvet. The museum had a promotional exhibit of one of Tarquin’s photographs. Two museum staff stood guard outside the exhibit warning curious onlookers about the graphic nature of the photo and getting signed consent forms stating the viewer had no recourse if offended by the content. 

Lenore walked over to see what the commotion was about. “Apparently they’ve got dirty pictures at the airport now, “ she said. I’m going to have to look at it. Come with?”

©2023 R Jay Moran SexyStoriesForWomen.com

Jenna couldn’t say no. Just before they passed through the curtain however she saw a photo of the man at the gallery with his bio and name “Peter Tarquin”. 

“Oh my God, I never expected this!’ Said Lenore with glee. As Jenna looked up she saw the familiar pose from the museum. The tied-up woman in the chair as she was orgasming. The woman with cum on her face. The one that looked a lot like her. Oh my.

Jenna looked twice. It wasn’t the woman in the original photo. It was actually Jenna. A small but distinctive mole just above her left breast was visible. Of course, with the blindfold, no one else could possibly tell, but SHE knew. 

She felt a warm flush as her friend gaped at the photo with an open mouth. 

“I can’t believe it,’ she said. “Can you imagine being that woman? That looks like the wildest orgasm of all time.” Jenna smiled at the fact her friend was extremely jealous. And also at the fact she would never know the truth. But Jenna would. And Peter had been right, she would never forget this moment for as long as she lived.