She was there as I entered the museum. Had I seen her before? A familiar face? Not sure. But such a beautiful face. Lithe body, dressed for summer, she glanced my way as she passed.

Twice a year, museum visits embellished ideas for my nine to thirteen-year-old pupils. Finished, I wandered upstairs.

In the exotic bird display, the lady was there outshining the garish colours. Again, our eyes met.

On the opposite side of an antiques glass case, she stood, top button loosened, drawing my eyes.

Several times, I saw her, before I reached my favourite level, where mythological representations were displayed.

Immediately, I headed for the door bearing the label ‘Cavern of Demi-gods.’

Keen to find somebody different, I read the board telling me the monthly demi-god was ‘Himeros.’

New to me. So, unhesitatingly, I entered the small space, darkness, eerily lit in green.

A backlit screen showed a noble gentleman, with wide-spread wings and a substantial semi-erect penis.

A recorded female voice was saying “--sexual encounters were encouraged--"

An added sensuous, feminine voice startled me. “I knew you’d get here.”

Turning, I saw, seated on a narrow bench behind me, that haunting woman.

Her blue, just below knee-length summer skirt, and vivid yellow blouse brightened the dim interior. Moving closer, hiding my surprise, I asked, “How could you know I’d get here?”

Deliberately, she lifted one foot onto the bench allowing her skirt to slide up revealing high thigh. “Know about Himeros?”

“Nothing.”

“He was a demi-god of sexual desire and lust.” Her green eyes were teasing. “You’ve been watching me with open lust. That’s why I expected you.”

Be bold, I told myself. “I thought the looks were two-way.”

“You were looking at my tits through the glass cabinet.”

“Your cleavage,” I corrected defensively. “Top button was undone.”

Her fingers trailed at her blouse neckline, “Two buttons now. Want more?”

So provocative her actions, my cock stirred awake.

“You returned my glances,” I said cautiously.

"Is that's why my panties were wet? I removed them just now,” she murmured.

Green eyes challenged me, and I wondered, if she was serious.

A lascivious smile now, “I wondered whether you’d respond.” She gestured at the mound in my pants, stating triumphantly, “And you have.”

Go on, call her bluff. With eyes on her bare tempting thigh, I said, “Your wetness and my hardness might make a cosy pair.” How’d that take her?

“Sounds good.” My heart thumped, at her enthusiasm. “Would a kiss be the start?”

Unhesitatingly, I bent, offering my lips as she raised her own. An initial delicate touch, but I drew back, “When?”

The female commentator, “—encouraging adoration of the penis—”

“Here, and now.”

“People might come in.”

She sighed, “I’ve an appointment in twenty-five minutes. Here and now. Fast.”

I hadn’t the breath or the will to refuse. I leaned for another kiss.

Devilishly her tongue probed, before she broke away to tell me, “I’ve never done anything like this before.”

True? Then I was honoured. A lie? Nothing mattered as tongues tangled, and her fingers lowered my zip.

My rigid cock burst forth, hard as iron. Immediately, she switched her attention to it. Within seconds, her mouth had enveloped me, sucking with a fury that startled me. I felt as though I crammed her mouth. Glorious.

I stroked along her inner thigh, so smooth, pushing her skirt higher until I was looking at her waxed labia so pink, so soaked, so inviting.

The lady was quietly moaning, as I eased her head back.

“My turn,” I whispered

Her face was flushed. Dropping to my knees, I buried my face in her nectar trench. My slicking tongue ploughed to her clit. She squirmed, widening her thighs, affording greater access, as she gasped and panted. I poked two fingers into her entry.

Suddenly, the door opened. Voices. A beam of outside light. We both froze. Out of sight. A woman’s voice, “Oh, the screen. Look. Disgusting.”

The door slammed closed. Silence.

“Phew, “ she sighed. “Anyway, time moves on. Finale.”

We both stood, belly to belly, kissing passionately. We agreed the bench offered little comfort, she observed, “Only one cosy way in these confines.“

Turning her back, placing her hands on the wall, jutting her backside, she looked back at me and said, “Now.”

Needing no further advice, flicking her skirt over her back, I placed my cockhead hard against her opening.

She instantly heaved back. “Speed,” she hissed.

So easily, my hardness slid up her sluiced channel. Her whole body quivered, and her jerking yelps told me that she was immediately climaxing. Enthused by that, I clutched her hips and pounded into her repeatedly.

I reached around her and rubbed at her hazelnut hard nipples. She gurgled her pleasure at that. Dropping one hand down to her slit, I felt through her oozing petals, before circling her clit. That did it. Would the whole museum hear her frenzied squeals?

Her hips responded to every vigorous thrust that I made. Her vaginal walls nipped and squeezed on my cock.

No chance to remain strong.

Within seconds, I was pouring months of my juices to mix with her own. Mutual rapture.

As we reclaimed our breaths, she glanced at her watch, “Oh, God, I’ll have to rush.”

My limp cock slipped out of her, and we cleaned up with handfuls of tissues she provided.

Straightening my pants, I asked, “Important meeting?”

“Solicitor. Final divorce process.”

At the door she stopped, turned, and quickly gabbled, “My husband was an unfaithful bastard. While I’ve remained the good wife. When you eyed me, I wondered if I could get one quickie back at him. I have now. And it was wonderful. Thank you.”

Door open, green eyes bright; as she said one more word, “Kingscliffe.” And she was gone.

Kingscliffe! That teaching conference. That’s where I’d seen her before. Was saying it, as a clue for me to find her.? Would I try?