The National Gallery – Trafalgar Square, Great Britain

Priceless paintings line the walls of a historic museum, silent people roaming the wooden floors. There are small whispers of conversations, but they are nothing that these halls haven’t heard a thousand times before.

It’s been a wonderful two hours in the heart of London, something Jack never would have been able to conjure up himself without the help of his friends. Tonight, Jack is graced with the beauty of a blind date, a woman whom everyone has noticed is out of his league. 

Jack knows his time with Eva is limited, well aware that he won’t get far, but he relishes the time regardless. Within the next two hours, from the way she hasn’t paid much attention to him, he’ll likely be drinking beers that he’s never tasted, sitting in a pub he can’t pronounce, spending the last of his British pounds before flying home.

Jack has been more than a gentleman in Eva’s eyes, doing everything right that a blind date should do. He opens her door, keeps his hands to himself, and says Eva’s name every now and then to remind her that hasn’t forgotten it. Jack is handsome, that blunt American language strong in him. He’s holding something back, but she isn’t sure what it is. If he takes her hand, she’ll allow it.

Jack makes an obnoxious, clicking sound, getting a little smirk out of Eva. His time is running thin, so why not give her a good story to gossip about regarding the lowly American?

“This guy’s proud of himself,” he notes, hands in his pockets as he admires the massive painting of a knight.

Eva’s heels tap on the hardwood, her jacket clasped at the waist of a pencil skirt. Moving a strand of brunette locks, she takes note for herself. “He must have just been knighted,” she comments, her eyes watching Jack examine the painting. “Cheeky bastard.”

He grins at her deliberate language. “Such a proper lady.” He returns to the painting, pacing around Eva. His face swipes close to her hair, watching her smile at his boyishness. “He’d be no match for this guy. There would be no other knight like me if I lived back then, I assure you, love.”

Eva hides her amusement behind pressed lips. “Don’t call me love, beau.”

Jack turns on shiny shoes, rocking heel to toe. With a sarcastic grin, eyes squinting in subjugation, he capitulates.

She divvies her attention between his antics and her own interests. “And what sort of knight would you be, then? A noble one?”

“No. An absolute rogue.”

“I’m sure.” It takes her a minute to realize, but she’s smiling, perusing the next painting as he does his little tour around her. She walks, watching as he crosses her path. He’s toying with her at this point. “And what sort of rogueish things should we expect from Sir John.”

“Jack, Miss Anna.”

“Jack.” Eva clears her throat, dismissing the blip. “And it’s Eva.”

“Lady Eva.”

The next painting comes and goes. He dodges a velvet rope and mounts a massive, bronze warhorse.
“You’re going to get us kicked out, sir knight.”

Jack does a terrible job of maintaining dignity as he mounts the metal statue. It’s harder than it looks, actually. Satisfied, he pretends to hold the reins, a quick look around as the museum thins for the night. He’s good. “As a knight, I’d only look out for myself, showing allegiance to no man. I would be rescuing brunette damsels in long skirts from the wickedness of this cruel world.” He extends a hand her way.

Eva shakes her head, a wave of dismissal. “Oh, no. Let’s not.” His hand remains, Eva scowling when he does that clicking sound with his teeth. “Ugh,” Eva groans, setting her coat on the rail. “We’re going to get arrested.”

“Probably.”

Jack helps Eva mount the saddle, a light squeal as she lets him haul her up to him. She sits sidesaddle, her tight skirt hugging smooth knees.

He wraps an arm around her waist, pretending to hold the reins.

Eva allows it, huffing her disapproval of it all while sliding closer. “So where are we? What’s become of us?”
Jack does a little rise and fall in the saddle as he pretends to ride, persisting against her laughter and urgency to stop. “We’re beside the edge of a forest. The great battle has been won, myself riding off with the spoils.”

“You have to be more specific than that. There are lots of forests, sir rogue.”

Jack thinks, a stupid expression on his face, continuing this fake ride. “Ok…how about this…”

English Countryside - Dawn

Eva groans, her head rolling before landing serious eyes on him. “You have to be more specific than ‘countryside.’ That and I’m not much of a morning person.”

He’s motionless, his eyes asking ‘Seriously?’ He clears his throat before trying again. “Ok…”

Canterbury - Twilight

“It’s possible for twilight to be the beginning or the end of the day. You have to be more specific. Plus, I don’t think the word ‘twilight’ existed in the Middle Ages.” Eva’s smirk is pertinent against his attempts. She’s watching his ego deflate, a small smirk on her kissable lips that will be difficult for him to remove. Her legs are crossed, curvy hips situated between his legs, her arms around his neck. 

Jack’s eyes close, his head back. He exhales from mild frustration.  

Canterbury, Late Afternoon - After the Battle

“I’m not really big on war.” Eva’s fingers scrape along his chest, fiddling with the buttons. 

Canterbury, Late Afternoon - A Lovely Forest on a Sunday

“I prefer to be rescued on a Saturday.” With her head on his shoulder, she swings her legs. 

CANTERBURY, Late Saturday Afternoon - A Lovely Forest

“Not too late in the afternoon.” His hand graces Eva’s waist, gently pulling her shirt from the waist of a fitted skirt. Eva’s nose tucks into his neck. 

Canterbury, Approximately 4:00pm - Adjacent to, but not too terribly close to, a Lovely Forest

Jack finds Eva’s eyes, anticipating her critique, but she appears satisfied. 

She nods her approval. Eva leans her weight into Jack atop the metal horse, his fingers interlaced with hers. She kicks off her shoes, listening to them fall haphazardly onto the wooden floor as her pretty feet swing. “Continue, sir knight.”

He has successfully unbuttoned the top of her shirt. She doesn’t seem to mind, so he works on the next button, gently tugging the open fabric aside to reveal round breasts squeezed into a lacy pushup. He fiddles with the next one, uncoordinated fingers working on it without any protest. 

A small smile remains on Eva’s lips, her head resting on his shoulder. Her fingers grip around his belt buckle. 

Jack continues his story while he works on her shirt…

“Having rescued a beautiful, brunette damsel from pure boredom, our hero rides with the lady in his saddle, taking his time as he is sure that it will be short-lived. On the edge of a forest, as the heat of day wanes, he enjoys their slow trot closer to the castle. A hefty reward awaits him, no doubt.”

Jack’s fantasy comes to life, a knight riding with a beautiful woman in his lap. The late spring day brings a cool breeze over the tall grass as they ride beside an empty field, his lady unnerved from their steady stroll. In a flowing dress, her brunette hair is swept aside, teased from the wind. 

Her nails gently scrape Jack’s neck, along the top of his chest as it trails into his shirt. Her bare feet sway under a long dress, the grass teasing her toes as they ride. “And what kind of hefty reward can such a nobleman expect, hmm? Is pride enough? I thought that claiming rewards is against the chivalrous code or something.”

“It’s not a reward. It’s spoils. Hey,” he comments, “there are no phones available for selfies in the middle ages.”

“I’m a witch, bitch.” With her head on his shoulder, she snaps a shot, uploading it to her page. 

He didn’t see the caption, but Eva was suppressing a smile.

She clears her throat while slipping the phone into her purse. Her arms return around Jack, nestling her cheek into his neck. With the few buttons of her shirt undone, she feels him hook a finger around the front of her bra. When Jack gives her boobs a playful jiggle, her pierced nipples become stiff, aching to be pinched or sucked. At the thought of sucking, Eva grips Jack’s hard cock through his pants, giving him a squeeze before releasing. Eva has a devious smile, looking to Jack who’s doing his best not to break character. “What’s the matter?” she asks innocently. “Is the story over?” She gives his cock another squeeze and twist.

“Absolutely not.” Jack keeps a finger hooked into her bra, lightly teasing her bust. He’s not letting those things go for anything.

Evening – Her Ladyship’s Keep

“As promised, our gallant hero delivers the beautiful maiden intact. Having arrived before nightfall, there’s still time for her to invite him in for a drink and stay a while, possibly find a reason to not depart until dawn.”

Eva is occupied with kissing his neck, her hand retaining a grip on his solid, pent-up cock. With Jack giving her clothed tit a squeeze, she flicks her tongue on his skin. “I think that can be arranged.”

Jack reluctantly slips his hands from her before sliding off of the metal horse. He wraps a hand around her legs, another extended for her sake. It isn’t the most coordinated thing, but she slips off of the horse unscathed.

Eva is in his arms. Her shirt is a little worse for wear. There’s a soft look on her face as the euphoria of it all has caused her blood to become warm and thin. She welcomes his kiss, her mouth inviting, pressing her body against his to show just how much she wants him.

He plays with the open ends of her shirt, admiring the lacy pushup. “Do your panties match?”

She shrugs. “I dunno. Why don’t you see for yourself, hero?” Eva turns around, Jack’s hands digging for the tiny zipper on the back of her pencil skirt. Feeling the zipper slip lower, her heart races.

Jack finds a black string. It’s the tiniest thing he’s ever seen. He gives it a flick, hearing the elastic band snap against her skin. “I guess they do.”

“I guess so.”

He is a gentleman, zipping up her skirt in public, giving her clothed boobs a definite squeeze before helping button up her shirt.

Eva takes him by the hand, the two of them aimlessly walking the museum with the same thought in mind. They won’t make it home in such heat like this. They no longer care for the priceless works around them.

Through a court and into a random exhibit, she leads as they snake through room after room, wondering this way and that before it becomes obvious that no one is around. There isn’t a voice to be heard as the museum begins to close.

Every sculpture could possibly be what Eva holds onto when Jack fucks her hard from behind. Every carpet is soft enough to kneel on. Every bench is wide enough for him to bury his face into her hot pussy.

Finding the end of their maze, Eva turns, giving in to Jack.

It’s no secret what she has in mind for them, helplessly pulling him close in a heated passion only a woman who hasn’t had sex in eight months can reveal. His attempts to pull her shirt from the skirt goes undeterred. Jack quickly works his way down the extremely frustrating buttons, trying to appear smooth and cool though he makes a total mess of it all.

His pants are undone. Her shirt is gone. Shoes and pants, and heels, and bra – they all eventually find a clumsy end as a pile on plush carpet.

He turns her around, Eva instinctively taking hold of a sculpture. The zipper of her skirt slides down slowly. Jack’s secret fetish is revealed as he takes his sweet time, slowly peeling the skirt open to find round hips outlined by an elastic band. He kneels, gently kissing her round hips as he worships at the altar of her body, slipping the skirt down to the floor before helping her step out.

Eva’s panties make a quick exit. They’re kicked to the side as Jack spanks her curvy ass, a feint handprint remaining. He doesn’t hesitate when she hikes her leg onto the sculpture base.

With stiff cock in hand, he rubs himself against Eva, one hand on her shoulder to show just how bad he needs her.

Eva flips her hair, looking back to him with a thin smile from his rapid change of character.

She’s the perfect height, Jack easily slipping into Eva, a deep sound of surprise from how wet she is. “You were ready for me, baby.”

“Mmm, hmm.” Eva bites her lower lip as Jack enters her. “Ohh, fuck,” she groans, long hair hanging as she dips her head.

“There she is,” he says, firm hands squeezing her narrow shoulders. He holds onto her, gently thrusting into Eva, loving the way her hips sound when he bumps against her ass. With his leg hiked next to hers, he holds onto her waist, working himself all the way in. “Your ass is so soft, baby.”

Eva’s eyes are closed, her mouth open, the words “Holy shit,” whispered to herself. She can’t help it, so she reaches between her legs to touch a severely sensitive clit.

Jack holds her upright, cupping her tits, finding hard nipples before pinching and holding on. He finds his rhythm, feeling Eva push her hips against him with every thrust.

Eva’s eyes squeeze tight, pretty lips pressed together to keep from shouting her ecstasy. The only sound of their sex is what’s created by Jack’s adamant pace of fucking her from behind. Her toes curl. “Oh, my…fuck!” Eva cums in thrusts, her legs involuntarily shaking as she holds herself firm against him, smooth hands bracing herself against the hold he has on her tits.

Jack holds onto her, loving the way she twitches. The deep moan Eva gives with every shake is sure to be a memory that he never forgets. He leans forward, kissing her bare shoulder. His voice is a whisper. “There’s my girl. Just let go, baby.”