by Mari Freeman
She looked around and could see four or five more brightly colored dildos protruding up amongst the artist and craft booths. She could see it now, frightened 53
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children and offended parents. “Oh my God. I’ve turned Central Park into an oversized-adult-toy exhibit.”
“It’s not that bad. You’re the only one who’s going to see it that way.” Liza sat beside her.
“Really? You think there is anyone over the age of eight who could walk through this meadow, see these things and not think to themselves, ‘giant penises’, ‘epic phalluses’ or ‘mammoth, multicolored cocks’?” She shook her head. “Tenfold is going to have a conniption over this.”
Craig was chuckling as he joined them. “No. He’s not that uptight. He’s a businessman, but he’s also a man.” He walked around the big yellow shaft. “I thought they were supposed to have streamers or something, like a maypole?”
“They will,” Liza said. “The streamers are being installed now. They haven’t gotten to those. It’ll be fine, Becky. I’m sure colossal cocks help sell arts and crafts. I read it in a marketing article just last week. It’s genius, really.” She wasn’t doing a very good job of even trying to sound sincere.
Becky huffed. “I’ll find one with the streamers installed and see if that helps any. You two certainly aren’t.”
Craig followed her. “There’s no need for help, Becky. They are what they are. We can’t do much now.”
She stopped at the end of a row of booths and tents. The idea in the layout of the festival was to have a few carnival rides in the center of the park for the kids. Curved rows of booths formed concentric circles surrounding the rides. The pinwheels were positioned so that several were visible from any given location. Each of the pinwheel sculptures had its own theme and school kids had decorated the fabrics before Samuel incorporated them into the sculptures.
The pinwheel Becky was currently facing was covered in large black and white splotches. “It’s a cow dildo.” She shook her head. Oh. My. God. 54
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He laughed. “It’s not. Let’s find one that’s got the streamers and see if that takes away from the, ah, mannish look.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her farther into the festival grounds.
A few of the sculptures closest to the rides were complete. Samuel stood with Mr. Tenfold, directing the installation of the streamers. Becky hesitated to get close enough to Tenfold to hear his thoughts on the artwork.
“Don’t worry. Chuck won’t care if there’s an underlying erotic theme to the festivities.” He winked and left her standing by a booth that was being set up to sell large lizards and butterflies crafted from copper and steel. Considering their metallic construction, they were very lifelike.
There was a lot of activity going on around the park. Craig and Mr. Tenfold shook hands. He’d called him Chuck. There wasn’t a chance Becky would get on a first-name basis with a client this huge. The man owned several multinational companies, a pharmaceutical company and God only knew what else.
She took a deep breath before responding to Craig waiving her over. If she stood there much longer studying the giant metal lizard, she’d look like an idiot. Considering the situation…
Samuel greeted her first. “Well, Becky-Boo, what do ya think of the masterpieces?”
He held his hands out to the sculpture in a Vanna White, here’s-your-prize manner. The streamers hanging from the top of the shaft did not change the visual. She saw more masturbation than masterpiece, but she didn’t say it. “They look a little different than I imagined. A little more…”
Mr. Tenfold broke in. “Pornographic?” He shook his head and chuckled. Craig laughed. “Yep. That’s the word.” Both his hands were crammed in his pockets. Becky suspected with that vibrator going, everything seemed pornographic to Craig. She got her own thrill thinking about him fighting an erection. She was going to have to find a way to get him some relief. And herself at the same time. 55
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She looked at her watch. Eleven thirty. “Samuel, how did they go from the kidfriendly pinwheels in your drawings to peniswheels?”
“You know the artistic mind can’t always answer questions like that. It happens.”
He sighed. “The wire for the petals arrived late and it was cut wrong and misshapen. We liked the idea of turning them up instead of forward. I hadn’t seen one completely assembled until today either. The posts were erected yesterday and the crew started installing the tops this morning.” Farrah barked her agreement with his account of events.
“They’re perfectly fine, Becky,” Mr. Tenfold said, clapping her on the shoulder.
“We’re making more of it than is warranted.’’
“What’s the worst that could happen? The media makes an insinuating comment. They’ll say whatever they like anyway.” Samuel comforted her with a pat to her arm.
“No such thing as bad publicity, sweetie.”
Becky looked to Mr. Tenfold. He was not concerned in the least. He’d moved toward a booth where kids could create bugs out of foam shapes, pipe cleaners and scraps of shiny fabric. She shook her head. Maybe she was overreacting. Tomorrow there would be loud music, thousands of people milling about and the rides would be running. The design of the sculptures would get lost in the mix. Right?
Craig leaned in close to her ear. “If I can’t fuck you in the next five minutes…”
She gave him a stunned grin. “What’s the matter, Craig? You ready to explode?”
He grabbed her hand and walked her toward the rides. His eyes scanned the options before him.
Becky brought them to screeching halt in front of the fun house. It was the biggest ride in the festival, at least size-wise. She was sure the Spinnaker would have the biggest draw. Kids seemed to love rides that spin them until they puke. The fun house, however, was closed in and, well, fun. For their immediate need, the fun house was looking like the best idea she’d had in a while. Oversized clowns smiled down on her from the façade of the attraction.
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Craig shrugged. “Big Top Fun House.” He glanced at the entrance. “Looks like no one’s here to interrupt our inspection.”
Becky pushed through the swinging doors that led inside. The lighting was awkward, as if still set for construction, brash and bright. The mechanics of the ride itself weren’t currently running, of course. She continued over two sets of steps. If running, they would have been moving side to side to trip you up as you attempted to climb. Lingering scents of paint and oil permeated the air. Part of the contract with the carnival company had been to make sure all the attractions were clean and freshly painted. Bright blue walls and more clowns grinned down on her as she followed the crooked path of a hallway.
They stepped into a red tube with a bright yellow spiral painted around the inside. The barrel wasn’t spinning, but the ground was rounded and she was ducking to get through. It made her feel a little off balance, maybe from the mental expectation that the tunnel should be moving but experiencing it standing still at the same time. She wasn’t sure. Craig’s hand cupped her ass as she walked behind her, slightly bent over. On the far side of the tunnel was a walkway with bright yellow railings along the sides. From one side of the railing to the other, rollers had been installed on the walkway. Hundreds of them. When she put a foot on the rollers, it shot forward, interrupting her balance. She reached for the handrails to adjust her weight, only to have her feet roll out from under her backward. No mechanics needed for this part of the fun house. The only way to negotiate the path was to hold on to the rails and pull yourself along with your arms. Becky came close to busting her ass more than once. She was giggling like a schoolgirl. Craig was laughing at his own endeavor. Once Becky hit solid ground, she had to struggle with her imbalance to prevent falling forward. Craig crashed into her, sending them both stumbling forward. His arms encircled her waist, trying to prevent landing in a pile on the ground. He mana
ged to avoid the fall, but they’d landed with her leaning backward over yet another rail that was open to the outdoors. She looked down to the grass below. Squeaking, she shoved 57
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against Craig. He held on as if ready to kiss her. Becky pushed against his chest, fighting to get away from the edge.
He let her loose. “Heights, huh? I’d never have guessed it. I can’t picture you afraid of anything.”
Becky didn’t appreciate the implication of weakness and headed off to the next room. “‘Afraid’ is a strong word. ‘Dislike’ is more like it.”
He looked over the rail. “It’s only one story.”
She huffed and went through the arch separating the rooms. “Yes, but to a pair as short as we are, it’s more like two stories.” She shot him a grin over her shoulder. When Craig lunged for her, Becky shoved through another set of doors to her right painted to look like a sixties hippie van converted into a clown car. He caught her just inside the door. “Are you insinuating I’m short?”
Becky was immediately aware of the heat of his body pressed to her back. She spun in his arms and kissed him. It became a deep, needful kiss with his arms wrapped tightly around her, his fingers pulling at her blouse. Becky could feel the vibrator. Feel his cock. He pushed her backward as they continued to take in each other’s lips, explore each other’s bodies with their hands.
His heated kiss made her feel wanted in a very stirring way. His hands roamed and caressed as his mouth explored hers. Her back hit a wall. Becky reached down and felt around his crotch until she found the vibrator. “Are you insinuating I’m a scaredy-cat?”
Craig ran his hands up her sides, digging his finger into the flesh just below her breasts. “Take that out of my pants. Please.” The words were spoken through gritted teeth.
As she slid to her knees, Becky realized they were in the mirror room. Contorted images of their bodies reflected all around the harshly lit room. She smiled up at him.
“Your ass looks huge in those pants.”
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He gave her a raised eyebrow. She indicated the mirror to their right with a tilt of her head and he glanced over. The mirror made them appear tall and freakishly thin, except for their midsections. Right then, with her kneeling before him, that meant his ass and her head were bulbous and distended. He barked out a laugh. She looked back up. “Wonder how this looks,” she said as she started to unbutton his pants.
He wiggled his hips and the bulge in his slacks got larger in the mirror. “Don’t get your hopes up. It’s only the reflection that’s bigger.”
She pulled his pants open and reached in, placing her cool hand against his warm skin, palm flat on his lower abdomen. It made him suck in his breath. “Cold hands, warm heart?” he asked.
Becky let her hand slide into his briefs and fished around to find the vibrator. She positioned her hand to cup the bullet against his shaft. He leaned forward, his hands hitting the wall behind her, elbows stiff to brace his body. “Don’t get your hopes up,”
she said as she used her free hand and pushed the button to change the vibration to the pulsing setting she loved.
His hips moved with the pulses. His cock slid between her fingers and she gripped harder. “But you don’t get to come just yet.”
He looked at the ceiling. “I didn’t figure I was getting off that easy.”
He was so confident. No hang-ups about his body or his sexuality. She loved their playful banter. If he lived in Texas, she’d have to worry about getting too close to this
“patient”.
She looked up to watch his face as she stroked. His eyes were closed, his dark hair falling haphazardly out of place. Maybe Craig Hill didn’t need as much fixing as she’d thought. But then again, he baked for a hobby. He needed to get out more. He needed to be this free all the time.
She looked back to his swollen cock. Well, maybe not this free. 59
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“God, Becky, if you don’t stop I’m going to make a mess of your blouse.”
“Oops.” She winked up at him and pulled both her hand and the little vibrator away. “Sorry. I was thinking.”
“Okay.” He chuckled. “Thinking is good. Is it something I need in on?”
She stuck out her tongue and ran it up the length of his shaft, stopping to let it twist and swirl around the bottom ridge of his head. She paused and looked up. “Nope.”
He reached down and lifted her off her knees. It was a good thing too; the metal floors were not good for extended kneeling. When she was standing, he kissed her again, long and deep, his tongue exploring her mouth. “I could kiss you for hours.” He looked in her eyes. She was close enough to smell his spicy aftershave over the fresh paint. “But, since were in a kiddy ride at a client’s charity festival, I think I’m going for something more…”
“Quickie?” she finished for him. The sound of the Spinnaker ride taking a test run almost drowned out her comment.
“Yes. Well, hopefully not too much of a quickie. But not so elaborate as wine, dinner and dancing. Drop your pants.”
She looked at herself in the mirror to her left as she unbuttoned her pants. In this one, they both looked really short and wide.
“We’d make good dance partners.”
He followed her glance and laughed again. “Woman…”
“Okay. Don’t be so hasty.”
He started pulling on her pants. “Hasty, you say? I was thinking about you in the cab on the way to the meeting this morning. You teased me all the way through the presentation while you were wearing the vibrator. I couldn’t help but remember how juicy you were after wearing it last night. Drove me crazy. And now I’ve worn it for a while. Is that your idea of hasty?”
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Even the harsh lighting didn’t take away from the cute, questioning look on his face. “Fine.” She let the pants fall and pulled her shirt over her head.
“Turn around.” He grabbed her hips and physically turned her away from him. She obliged and placed her hands on the metal wall before wiggling one leg out of her pants to spread them wide. Craig fumbled to find another condom in his wallet. Craig worked the condom on and then slid the head of his cock through her legs and right to her clit. He rubbed it back and forth, teasing her clit with enough pressure to make her squirm. She was as worked up as he was. The morning of secret playing had been as exciting to her as his serious kisses.
“That’s your foreplay, baby.” He slid into her. She was more than wet and willing. To prove it, Becky pushed back to meet his thrust.
“You’re such a romantic.”
Craig pushed into her with a fervor he’d never experienced. How long had the woman teased him? Hours. That’s how long. If he’d had to wait much longer, his cock would have detonated and sent her though the wall. He almost laughed out loud at the mental image of shooting Becky’s body through the brightly colored balloons painted in front of them. He felt lighthearted and happy and greedy all at once as he fucked her with intense urgency. How was that possible?
Her skin was warm under his fingers, her moans echoed off the metal walls and her body contorted and twisted in the mirrors surrounding them. Becky Cooper held nothing back. She gave. And right now he was happy to take. But he wanted to be able to give back. He knew he wanted more of this woman.
“A girl could get a bad self image if she had to look at these mirrors every time she was fucking.” Craig followed her gaze to see which of the mirrors she was looking in. He leaned forward over her back to get close to the same visual angle.
“Nice. I look like a giraffe giving it to a bowling pin.”
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Becky tilted her hips and tightened the muscles currently wrapped around his shaft. Craig thought he would lose it right then.
“Can a bowling pin do this?” Her voice was light and spirited. The humor drained away as he drove in and out of her hot pussy.
It wasn’t long before he had no more restraint. He burst. He grabbed her hips and buried himself as deep as he could and held tight as he came.
“Strike.” She giggled and pulled away from his body. It was a sad sight. He’d known he wasn’t going to last as long as he would’ve liked. He wanted to fuck her all day, but given the location of their tryst, it was probably for the best. He shook his head as he looked for a place to dispose of the condom. He had a receipt in his pocket. He wrapped it in that, hoping he’d find a nearby trashcan. Becky pulled her blouse back over her head. “See what a little fun can do for you?”
Craig looked at her face. She suddenly looked victorious instead of satisfied. “Well, this qualifies as fun in my book.” He wasn’t sure what to say.
“And less time working.” She kissed him lightly on the cheek. “You’d be surprised what that would do for you.”
He tucked his shirt in and buckled his pants. It hit him as she walked out of the room. “Wait a minute.” He caught her on the stairs leading back to the ground level. The floor here would be popping up and down if the fun house was fully engaged. “Is this one of the ‘doctor’ things? What did Tanisha call you? Is this a Love Doctor evaluation of my personality?”
Becky spun around and stopped. She tilted her head. “Not really an entire evaluation. I just met you last night. From what I understand, you have a crowded work schedule and very little social life. A little fun wouldn’t hurt. So we’re having a little fun.”
Craig opened his mouth, a little shocked by the revelation. “How would you know about my social life? We’ve been at it like teenagers since the moment you handed me your remote control. What exactly makes you think I need more fun?”
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“I don’t mean to offend, Craig.” She laid her hand on his arm. “I just wanted to help. Your reputation is that of an overworked lawyer who spends all his time in the office. And you said you bake for fun.”
He couldn’t believe it. She’d stopped thinking of him as a lover and decided he was a project once she’d found out his identity. He shook his head. She tried to stop him as he passed to exit the fun house. She leaned in as if to kiss him. “I’m not a patient, Becky. I don’t need fixing.” He frowned at her. How many men had she “fixed”? It didn’t matter. He liked his life. He liked his friends and his job and his baking. He was happy, if not occasionally lonely. “Goodbye.”
