Patron of the Arts

"And boy, what a cunt," he repeated, then shuffled away with a rapturous sigh.

Some people took more than one note, but really, once my tits, ass and pussy were revealed, most seemed content to take only one and allow their fellows to enjoy the same privilege. The final scrap of paper clung to my forehead for nearly ten minutes after the previous one was removed; the gathering at this point seemed not to want it to end. At last, seeing my energy was flagging and I might not be able to keep standing in place much longer, it was Todd who came to the rescue and discarded that last post it.

He showed it to me after he removed it.I could stare at this fine-ass slut all day.

I pulled him to me and kissed him. One hand thrust itself down his pants, the other maneuvering his hands to my ass to hold me against him. I was a slut, yes, but first and foremost, I had a duty to my art, and I owed all that I had achieved to this man. I was the clay he molded into his masterpiece. Todd's slut.

Before shuffling wordlessly out of Arthur Park together, our hands grasping each other's asses, I removed the sign from Rev. Josiah Burns and climbed up to give him a kiss on his bronze lips. He was a symbol for me. Once, a symbol of the oppressive patriarchy, a witless thug from a bygone age. Now, I think I understood him better. Like me, he was only doing the best he could to blaze a trail, pioneer a way through uncharted wilderness and forge a better world for all men.

I bet his cum would have tasted delicious.

"I can't believe your slutty cop friend didn't arrest me. I was standing naked in the park for hours," I said as I settled into the front seat of his car, parked on a street adjacent to the park. Strangers on the sidewalk gasped at the sight of the busty naked hottie.

"Yeah, I'll owe her one for this. Maybe get her some flowers, or let her use those cuffs like she's always asking." He turned to me. "There's a bottle of water in the cooler in the back seat, if you're thirsty."

"I'm not thirsty; I'm hungry," I replied while undoing his belt and fastenings, then leaning down into his lap and giving him a few licks. I sucked him off as he drove away, and again while he hosed my sweaty body down in his back yard. And again after my nap. And again to wake him up the next morning.

I ate nothing but Todd's spunk that weekend, but as plentiful as it was. I could never get enough. I guess I'd turned out like my dad had feared - just another starving artist.