An Artists’ Display for a Cuckquean by Delimity

Literotic asexstories – An Artists’ Display for a Cuckquean by Delimity,

Sunny is in her happy place.

As part of the board of directors for the new Art Museum in Cancun, she couldn’t ask for a better job or a more perfect day.

Sunny leans over the steel railing of the second floor of the modern white building and looks out at the line of hotels. The day is early with a summer’s heat, packed with meetings that are just winding down for the day. She notices couples checking into the Desire Resorts across the street where she’s staying. Some of the couples look appealing, as do some of the single men, but she stopped scoping them out after so many weeks. Too much work, not enough play, and not enough prospects that would meet the specific fantasy she craves.

She drinks some water, clearing her throat for speaking at the next meeting. She’s briefing the rest of the board and their main investors on the grand opening in a week. Now that the paint is dry and the installations are coming in, all that’s left is to promote and prepare for the throngs of visitors coming across from the hotel to populate the halls.

But especially the living exhibit rooms.

As she makes her way down the high ceiling hall, her heels echo off of the empty spaces now filled with Greek statues of the late iron age period. They’re the rare ones. The type that show both men and women, naked, in the throngs of sexual acts that were once deemed fully acceptable by society, but then quickly regarded as smut as the millennia went on. Now recovered and reconstructed, Sunny basks in the sexy images of the ancients in the middle of their embrace surrounded by the modern building.

With the lonely nights in the hotel, she finds herself jealous of the statues. She feels even more jealous of the prepared rooms along the right of the hall. She tucks her fantasies away in her mind as one of her assistants walks around the corner with two workers pushing in a large plate of glass.

“Good morning Sunny. The handymen say that the glass installation for the final room will be done by the end of the day,” the skinny assistant explains. The workers position the ten foot glass piece carefully and begin their preparations. They begin by putting sheets over the gray transitional style furniture.

“Are the doors installed properly?” Sunny asks.

The attendant looks at the handymen nervously. One produces a set of keys and tosses them over.

“Yes, all done. Here are the keys Sunny,” she says. Sunny pockets them in her sundress and gives the assistant some praise.

As the assistant scurries off, Sunny looks at the ecstasy statues and then into the rooms. She feels jealous in several ways that, as a director, she will never be able to partake in these living exhibit rooms. She begins to imagine the throngs of people, all with drinks in their hands and focus through the glass, watching couples in different dynamics have sex. It’s a form of artistic expression, she tells herself (and to the local government).

But she cannot help but want that art to be the passion in between her legs, to be the one inside the box being watched while being pleasured. Before she becomes too wet, she starts off again toward her meeting.

#

Sunny likes all the board members and the investors except for one. Karen. After her power point presentation in the stylish conference room, Karen is the first to throw out questions without so much as raising a hand or allowing Sunny to finish her presentation.

“What happened with the color coordination for the furniture in the Greek presentation rooms,” she asks.

“The artists believe that the gray color and the lighting will help keep focus on the people without contrasting with different skin colors. She said that many of the interested parties agreed with this and–,” she was cut off by Karen.

“But they’re not the ones paying for it, are they?” she says.

The room of board members shifts in the black chairs. Sunny holds Karen’s stare, not giving in to the woman, letting her dig her own grave. Karen continues, stepping onto the soap box as she usually does.

“This installation is one of a kind. The first of its kind in a newly progressive sex positive world. And I want it to be perfect. And the boring gray and white rooms will offer little excitement to those at the hotels. I want this to feel like an exclusive club, a place so fancy and decadent that it will all but sap the rest of the swinger resorts of their venues and bring their audiences to us. And gray boring couches with basic white lighting isn’t going to cut it. Change it,” she says.

Sunny’s business head starts to kick into gear hoping it overtakes her frustration with Karen. The fast shipping and the overtime work for the upholster alone will cut everything close. If only, thinks Sunny, this woman could get a taste of these rooms, a taste of my fantasy in action, that she might not give a shit about the color of the couches.

“We’ll get the changes to the furniture to more club colors right away, Karen. Shouldn’t be a problem,” says Sunny.

“Good. Now, I have major issues with the Roman rooms…”She begins, but Sunny tunes her out. She’d notice that Karen’s mood has deteriorated over the weeks. At first her husband was here, but he left at some point. Since then, Karen’s mood was extra sour. In the lobby she’d seen her flirting with another man. This man, stoic in stature and reserved in build, seemed to just put up with Karen. But the way this man looked at her one time, she could tell that he desired other things than just Karen.

“Is that clear Sunny?” Karen finally completes.

“Yes, clear,” said Sunny, knowing that the rest of the board already voted on finalizing the Roman room.

#

In her room on the 20th floor, Sunny decides to celebrate alone in her own way. On her bed is an opened and freshly delivered package. Under her flowing summer dress is hidden the boudicca body suit, black and strappy and hugging her curves near perfect. It’s a hug she’s badly in need of after weeks without being touched. As she looks at the sunset, her frustration with Karen starts to combine with her fantasy.

How wonderful, she begins to think, would it be to be the cuckcake for Karen. How twistedly sexy it would be to take her side piece downstairs, pull them into her room, and make Karen watch as she pleases her side piece the way he wants it. The very thought of it makes Sunny wet with desire.

To tease herself, she pounds the rest of her drink, letting some of it seep out of the sides of her mouth and run down her supple breasts and over the body suit. She wished it to be another man’s cum instead of the bubbles of alcohol.

Her phone on the nightstand buzzes. It’s a text from Karen. Sunny reads it and sighs.

“I need to talk to you in more detail about the human exhibits in the Greek room. Come and meet me in the bar,” says Karen.

You could ask me nicely, you bitch, thinks Sunny. She takes her phone and makes her way downstairs to the bar.

#

The breezy lobby is marble and so is the open bar. Sitting in high wicker chairs with two empty highball glasses sits Karen and her temporary affair, the stoic statured man. She walks up, strutting her heels in her business confidence to prepare for the onslaught from Karen. Karen is talking the ear off of the stoic man, but he turns to look over Sunny. The way his eyes scan her makes her feel horny differently than she has before.

“There you are,” says Karen, setting down her drink. “Now this is what I want to change in the Greek room. I want everything to be red. Repaint the walls and the couches need to be upholstered all red. Then…” Karen continues on, but barely looks at Sunny.

The stoic man looks at Karen with a gray eyed concern as she drones on. He turns to Sunny and they meet each other’s stares. The look on his face says a thousand words. And most of those are dirty. Sunny ignores Karen and extends her pedicured hand.

“I’m Sunny,” she says. The man takes her hand. She notices a white line around his ring finger as he grips her.

“I’m Emir, he says.

“Nice tan line,” Sunny says pointing at his hand. “Must be one hell of a ring.” Emir holds a smirk in his face as Karen suddenly goes pale and stops talking.

“You should see my wife’s. It’s a diamond bigger than her clit,” he says.

“So just one carrot then?” she says.

Sunny and Amir begin to laugh with each other. Karen puts down her drink, mortified.

“Sunny, that was so rude. I can’t believe you–,” but this time, Sunny cuts her off by putting a freshly shaven leg and heel on the bar between their stools. She leans in and takes Karen’s drink, making a purposeful effort to drink where Karen’s lipstick is on the glass.

“Karen. Work is over for the day and everything is already set. Why don’t you order another round of drinks and start telling me what relaxes you. God knows that you need it,” says Sunny.

Karen’s confounded look on her face turns red, searching for words. But then Emir chimes in.

“I’ll have another scotch on the rocks,” he says to Karen.

“Gin and tonic for me,” says Sunny.

Karen is about ready to explode as she looks at Emir dead in the eye. But Amir winks at her as he nods his head over at Sunny. Karen’s face softens into an uneasy look. She turns to the bartender and orders the drinks.

“Thanks Karen,” says Sunny, still leaning her leg on the bar as she continues to finish off Karen’s drink. “So, when you’re not acting like a wealthy donor for the board, what do you like to do… In bed?” Sunny cocks her head back, downing the rest of the liquid. Karen, flustered, takes a moment as she wiggles in her high chair.

“I have a thing,” Karen says.

“Don’t we all. Figured that we all have a similar ‘thing’ being involved in this art project. How about you there Emir. Did she tell you what we got going on across the street?” says sunny. The bartender finishes the drinks and sets them out for them. They all take them. Sunny takes the effort to clink Karen’s glass first before drinking.

“She hasn’t said much about it. Mostly just about how her husband is a wimp. Maybe you can tell us more details about that ‘thing’ you have, Karen?” asks Amir.