Art has always been my first love — but I’m not a creator myself. Let’s say I’m a professional appreciator. I parlayed my art history degree into a job as manager of a high-end gallery, but my ultimate goal is to be a museum curator. That’s not an easy task, but I don’t plan on abandoning my dream.

One night, I was working late in my office. I was buried in paperwork when the door creaked open. Looking up from my cluttered desk, I saw Joe pushing in his janitorial cart.

Even under the harsh fluorescent lights, Joe was the vision of hunkiness. Just a little younger than me, he’s muscular with broad shoulders. He moved with purposeful ease, taking care not to disturb me.

I swiveled toward my laptop, feigning concentration, but the corners of my mouth curled up into a subtle smile. Every time Joe and I were alone, we danced around our attraction like teenagers in a high school hallway — quick glances, playful banter and no small amount of flirtation.

As Joe swept the floor, I kept stealing looks at him. His black hair was slicked back, and there was a hint of dark stubble on his jaw. The way he moved was hypnotizing to me, each motion efficient yet powerful. My heart was racing, and my skin grew hot under the collar of my blouse. Propriety meant I shouldn’t act on my feelings, yet the temptation was growing more intense with every passing second.

The gallery was empty, other staffers and the last visitor had left hours ago, and the front door was locked, sealing us in our own private world.

When Joe looked up from his task, he caught me staring at him and asked how my night was going.

I stood to stash some folders in a filing cabinet and breezily replied, “Same old, same old, Joe.”

His eyes searched mine, and I saw a familiar desire smoldering there. Our shared glance spoke volumes, and before long, propriety was the last thing on our minds.

Joe closed the distance between us, his hand landing on the small of my back. The heat of his touch permeated my clothing and sent a shiver down my spine, and the small room suddenly felt much smaller.

My pulse was pounding like a jackhammer. The office was a mess of half-filed documents, and unfinished tasks nagged at my mind — but those concerns soon vanished like smoke on the wind.

It was time to test if our chemistry was as explosive in reality as it was in my head.

Joe’s hand slid up to the nape of my neck, his thumb brushing against my bare skin. His warmth once again seeped into my flesh. He tugged me closer, his clean, masculine scent obliterating the faint hint of disinfectant clinging to his uniform. His full lips hovered just above mine, and I felt his breath against my face. The anticipation was unbearable, a coil of desire tightening in my already tense stomach. My cunt was positively aching for this man.

Our lips met in a gesture that was urgent yet gentle. He tasted faintly of mint. Our kiss grew deeper, more passionate, and I felt my body melting into a puddle of arousal. I palmed the firm muscles of his chest through the coarse fabric of his shirt. My craving for him was growing, and I was hungry.

Apparently, Joe was, too. In a swift motion, he lifted me onto the desk, sending papers fluttering to the floor. With my skirt pushed up, he gripped my naked thighs, pulling me forward and perching me on the furniture’s edge. The desk’s cool surface was a stark contrast to the heat building inside me.

Joe’s tongue boldly explored my mouth. My hands roamed up his arms, gauging the strength in his biceps, and then slipped down to his waistband where I tugged at his shirt. He took the hint and pulled the garment over his head, revealing his hairy chest.

We continued to feverishly make out as we further undressed each other. Joe’s hands were sure and confident as he worked off my skirt and unbuttoned my blouse, the fabric whispering open to expose my lacy bra. Joe leisurely kissed along my collarbone and neck as he stripped off my blouse and removed my brassiere. My nipples tightened as I sat there with my breasts fully exposed. His touch was electric, sending shock waves of pleasure reverberating throughout my body.

With my hands trembling slightly, I unbuckled his belt and unfastened his pants. He stepped back and let them drop to the floor. The sight of his erection straining against his boxers captivated me — until he discarded his underwear and gave me a real thrill. The sight of him standing there naked made my cunt flood with honey. Even the great Michelangelo could not have sculpted a more perfect example of virile masculinity.

Joe stepped between my parted thighs, his chest brushing against my breasts as he lavished me with kisses. His strong hands possessively traced the curves of my waist and hips. I gasped into his mouth as his fingers found their way beneath the waistband of my panties. With some maneuvering, he slid the undies down my legs. Then he stepped back again, taking in the sight of my bare pussy.

The wetness between my legs wouldn’t stop flowing, and I swear I felt a puddle forming beneath me. The desperate need to have Joe’s cock inside me was overwhelming. He came closer, his dick brushing against my thigh. I wrapped my hand around his rod, savoring its pulsing heat. He groaned into my ear, his breath hot and ragged.

Joe removed my hand from his dick and brought it to his mouth. He kissed each of my fingertips, licking them lasciviously, before guiding them back down to his erection. He closed his eyes, relishing the sensation of my touch as I stroked him. He caressed my breasts, cupping one and rolling its nipple between his thumb and forefinger. A soft moan escaped my lips, and I arched my back, physically begging for more.

With a growl, Joe lifted my legs, and I wrapped them around his waist. As I kept my ankles locked at the small of his back, he slipped his hands under my ass. He gripped my cheeks and held me in place as he advanced, aiming his spike at my entrance. I felt the tip of his cock nudging my vagina. I was so ready for him, my body demanding that he give me his cock. He looked into my eyes, and when I nodded eagerly, he eased into me.

The feelings were intense — the pleasure of him filling me and the slight pain of his huge cock stretching my snug walls. It had been a while since I’d fucked anyone, and I was like a born-again virgin. I bucked my body, urging Joe to go deeper inside me. He didn’t disappoint, sliding in inch by inch until he was fully seated. We paused there for a moment with our bodies connected and our hearts pounding. Then he began to move in a rhythm that grew faster and more commanding with each powerful stroke. I clutched at his shoulders as I matched his motions, my hips repeatedly jerking to meet his.

The old desk creaked under us, a sound that only served to heighten my excitement. We were animals, claiming each other in the most primal of ways. The room was filled with the scent of our passion, a heady mix of sweat and desire, and we lost ourselves in the moment. It was just Joe and me, our bodies writhing wildly.

Joe’s hands found my breasts again, teasing and pinching my nipples as he fucked me. The sensation was exquisite, each tweak of his fingertips sending a bolt of pleasure straight to my core. My orgasm was steadily building inside me with each of his intense jabs. My breaths turned into moans, and my nails dug into his sturdy shoulders.

I raked my fingers through Joe’s thick hair. His hips ground into me, hitting just the right spot with every penetrating thrust. I knew we were each racing toward climaxes that would shatter us completely.

My moans grew louder, and Joe nipped my neck, his teeth teasingly tormenting my skin. It was a possessive gesture, one that triggered a burst of indecent pleasure. He sensually traced the line of my spine with his fingers before worming his hands beneath my ass again, his grip tightening as he sped up the motion of his hips. I could feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles flexed as he brought us closer and closer to our mutual ecstatic release.

Joe muttered dirty words in my ear in a low growl that fueled the fire burning inside me. I whispered back, egging him on. We were a live wire, sparking and sizzling with every touch, every movement.

I continued rocking my hips, keeping time with him. The friction was heavenly, each stroke pushing me further toward the precipice. My only reality was the pulse of pleasure that pounded within me.

Joe’s hand slid down and promptly found my clit, his thumb circling the sensitive nub with a precision that made me gasp. The sensation was exquisite, a symphony of pleasure that played in time with the beat of my heart. He knew just how to touch me, eliciting endless waves of bliss.

With a final thrust and flick of his thumb, Joe sent me hurtling toward release. My body convulsed, my cunt muscles tightening around him as I climaxed. I screamed his name as pleasure consumed me, the intensity in his gaze increasing as he watched me fall to pieces.

With a roar of his own, Joe followed me seconds later. His hips stuttered before he fully buried himself inside me, his release hot and powerful. We held on to each other as we floated amid a flood of fulfillment.

For a moment, we stayed like that, having gloriously transcended our workplace flirtation. With a soft sigh, Joe eventually eased back, his deflating cock exiting me with a comically wet sound. He kissed my cheek sweetly, then he helped me gather my clothing.

We parted with some affectionate words, but not before Joe invited me to his place that weekend for dinner.

On the evening in question, I headed downtown to a neighborhood I rarely visited and cautiously entered the grimy vestibule of Joe’s building. It was an old commercial warehouse that was gradually being converted into loft apartments. Joe informed me that so far he was the sole tenant, so I shouldn’t expect to run into anyone else.

I had no idea what to expect from Joe’s place — only that it would be very different from the chic gallery where we had first hooked up. But I did know what I expected from him, and my mind raced with wonderful possibilities as I stepped into an ancient elevator.

The car rumbled to life and took me to the top floor, groaning all the way. The doors opened noisily, and I stepped into a dimly lit hallway to knock on Joe’s door.

My brand-new lover greeted me with a warm smile and invited me inside. I stepped across the threshold, and I knew I was gazing around with my mouth agape. The place was huge. A large open space with giant windows that showcased the glittering cityscape. Vibrant canvases lined most of the exposed brick walls. Each piece was more beautiful and haunting than the last. The floor was littered with paint tubes, brushes and sketchbooks. Clearly, all of those paintings were Joe’s personal handiwork.

He spread his muscular arms wide and proudly pronounced, “Welcome to my studio.”

I was entering a world that was as raw and unfiltered as Joe’s limitless passion. This was where he lived, where he created — and it would also soon become the place where we would explore one another’s body and soul.

Joe led me through the maze of art supplies to a small, cluttered kitchen. There was a bottle of wine on the counter, and the smell of something delicious wafted through the air.

He pulled out a chair for me near a rickety table and served me perfectly cooked pasta with a decadent cream sauce.

We ate and talked, and our intimate conversation flowed as easily as the wine.

“How come you never told me you were an artist?” I asked.

He shrugged and replied, “Maybe I was just waiting for the right time to surprise you.”

And surprise me, he did. I gave him my honest opinion of his work — that it was fabulous, and I intended to speak to the gallery’s owners about giving him his very own show.

Our business talk eventually fell by the wayside as we reverted to our usual flirtatious chatter. I was raring to see even more of Joe’s talents as I was convinced that our brief interlude in my office was just a small sample of what he could do.

After our plates were cleared, Joe took my hand and led me to his unmade bed. We silently undressed each other, exchanging kisses as we gradually peeled away our layers of clothing.

Joe’s hands brushed against my body, exploring my every curve with an artist’s precision. I felt like a living canvas, waiting for him to color my skin with the perfect orgasmic blush.

When we were both totally naked, Joe eased me back onto the messy tangle of bedsheets, but I was too eager to taste him. I licked my lips and urged him to lie beside me. His cock was already temptingly hard. I scooched down the mattress and wrapped my fist around his shaft, feeling his desire pulsing beneath my fingers. I stroked his cock, causing him to groan.

I took Joe’s fully erect dick into my mouth. His cock was hot and velvety, and he tasted faintly of salt and musk. I swirled my tongue around his crown before taking him in deeper and allowing him to fill my mouth. He pumped his hips, gently fucking my face as I blew his boner.

Joe threaded his hands through my long hair, guiding my movements as I sucked him. I took care to deliver just the right amount of suction and friction. The sounds of his pleasure filled my ears, and his gasps and groans made me want to stretch out his erotic enjoyment for as long as possible. I liked being able to deliver such carnal thrills.

As I orally worshiped Joe’s member, he threw an arm around me and yanked the lower half of my body closer to him. His hand slid between my legs, his fingers finding my wet slit and teasing my clit. I moaned around his fat shaft, my own arousal rapidly intensifying. I knew the motions of my mouth were getting erratic as he distracted me by playing with my button. I felt my cunt getting sloppy wet as his digits danced atop my clit. I was soon a quivering mess.

Finally, Joe pulled away and took charge, pushing me onto my back. He settled his face between my legs, giving me one long lick and flicking his tongue over my nub before rising once more.

Joe’s hulking body covered my more petite frame as he slid his formidable cock into my cunt. He didn’t hesitate, stroking into me hard and deep. He repeatedly drove his prick in and out of my hole, the headboard banging against the wall with each of his powerful thrusts.

My hips bounced against the mattress as I met him stroke for stroke. Our sweaty flesh slapped together in a sexy rhythm. Tension was rapidly building inside me as his pelvis smacked my clit and his curved dick grazed my G-spot in just the right way. I was speeding toward an earth-shattering orgasm, ready to be completely consumed by the ecstasy that he sparked.

Once again, Joe’s sweet nothings were a litany of filth that sent my arousal skyrocketing. I’d never been with a guy who liked to talk a blue streak while screwing, but I quickly realized how much that revved my engine. And just when I thought I couldn’t take anymore, Joe whispered in my ear, “Come for me, Christy.”

With a moan that was half pleasure, half relief, I climaxed, my cunt walls convulsing around his cock.

Joe wasn’t able to hold on for much longer than I did. After a few more thrusts, he came with a triumphant shout, his hips jerking as he exploded. He filled my pussy with a series of hot spurts, leaving my cunt overflowing with his sticky cream.

As we lay there silently, I marveled at my good fortune. After so many months of flirtation, I’d actually lost hope that Joe and I would get it on. I was glad that he’d taken the initiative, and even more glad that I discovered his beautiful secret — that he’s the most exciting painter I’ve seen in years.

I’m looking forward to helping Joe grow his fledging art career. I can tell that he has the potential to be a superstar. Patrons will be blown away by his talent and creativity — just like I’ve been. But to be truthful, what I’m most excited about is the blank canvas of our relationship. I’m not so bold as to sketch out all of our tomorrows, but I have designs for a very colorful future for the two of us.