Now Museum, Now You Don’t

the follow-up to Sucked In

by Dan Standing


There’s always been something about that mousy brunette. She gives me a perverted vibe. Standing around as I do, making sure everyone behaves, has let me see plenty of students revisit certain pieces in the museum. There’s nothing unusual about that.

But this one…she always goes to the same lesbo painting, to the same spot, and just plants there. Sometimes she has a back-pack, like today, but I never see her taking notes or studying anything. She just stares at the nude women licking each other.

Sometimes, what really puts me off, is if I’m near the doorway when she leaves I can catch a wiff of…well, a smell I’d more-so expect from a Kappa frat house mixer than the basement of the campus art museum. Has she never heard of the internet? Does she only get turned on by oil on canvas? It’s not a fetish I’ve heard of.

Her musky scent churns my stomach.


Aw Hell. I’ve been doing this for a while – school isn’t going to pay for itself – and I’ve come to recognize when the proximity alarm has been set off on purpose or by accident. Someone who has intentionally peered a little too close to one of the art works will be trying to act casual when I come around the corner. Someone who has done it by accident usually looks a little flushed with embarrassment.

Honestly, as I turned the corner of the hallway and saw the brunette girl she looked a little of both. I could only hope she was flushed from embarassment. She’d also moved down a few paintings from her usual spot. I waited a moment, glancing over each piece before returning my gaze to the skinny girl. Everything appeared to be in order. There’s no camera looking directly down this hallway for me to check, and without any clear evidence or obvious intent in her to vandal anything there was nothing I could do but walk away.

My mind pondered this girl. Why was she really down here? It could just be to stew in her own juices by staring at an ages old picture. If I’d been able to I would have been outside gossiping, or playing frisbee, or teasing some guy, or getting ready for some party. Maybe even studying. It blew my mind how some students would choose to spend their time down here. I couldn’t wait to get out at the end of my shift.

But that didn’t mean I wouldn’t do the best damn job I could.

Of course, by the looks of her, she didn’t seem to have a body that would knock out any of the Kappa guys. Not like mine, at least. I’d seen plenty of boys undressing me with their eyes while they feigned interest in the historial works. A few girls as well, but…ick.


Shit! As I stormed back over to the hallway I was prepared to demand the girl remove herself from the exhibit, but I was certainly caught off-guard by what I saw. The mousy brunette was gone. Her clothing and bag were there, but they were in a pile on the tile.

Standing in her place was a curvy girl about my age with sandy blonde curls. Who also happened to be completely naked.

“What the fuck?” I exclaimed, and the stranger’s head shot up at me.

“Eenglish?” I thought I heard her mutter, and then she started exclaiming “Queek, queek, come here, zere has been a horreeble meestake!”

She was waving at me frantically, her whole body jiggling and moving as she motioned me closer. Amidst her gesticulations she was also motioning to the painting that the brunette had always been obsessed with.

I didn’t know what she wanted of me, and I didn’t give a damn. This was sick. I marched down the hall with every intent of dragging her naked ass out of the building.

“I don’t know where you came from, but you’re leaving!” I exclaimed, a finger extended and pointing angrily at her. Suddenly she grabbed my extended hand and pushed my pointing digit against the brunette’s favorite painting.

I was horrified. I tried to yank my finger away, but for some reason it was stuck there. Pull as I may it wouldn’t budge, and the canvas didn’t seem to be reacting at all to my efforts. I raised up my foot towards the wall with the intent to really launch myself away from the art when suddenly my body felt light.

I actually lifted up from the ground! While gravity had, without discernable reason, suddenly released its grip on my body, it had not done so for my clothes. My skirt, blouse, bra, everything just fell from – no, through me! I was floating in the air as naked as the mysterious blonde, my breasts gently floating up into my view.

Suddenly it was as if I was rushing towards the painting. It all happened so fast I hadn’t even seen where I’d touched the paint. Suddenly my world went dark, and I could feel my very flesh shifting, changing, shrinking, compressing, reforming – there were so many sensations I couldn’t keep track of them all!

As suddenly as my eyes had been blinded they switch on again. I also had a sensation of where I was. My legs were tucked under me, and I could feel sand under them. My right hand was also resting in the damp grit, but my left was wrapped around something soft. I could feel my breasts were hanging free, and I could not sense clothing resting against any inch of my skin.

My eyes were downcast and barely open, but I could see. I was staring down at a furry pussy! No, not just staring down – my lips were nestled against it. Curly hairs poked at my chin. My tongue was extended and…and…I was licking some woman’s slit!

No, I realized, I was only mid-lick because I wasn’t moving – couldn’t move! No matter what I did I could not shift my body. I wasn’t even breathing, but somehow the scent of the other woman’s aroused twat was inside my nose. And at the tip of my tongue could taste her excitement!

Atop all of this there was another layer of sensation…I felt constricted, almost cracked. I could understand that feeling about as well as I could understand how I’d suddenly been transported between a strange woman’s thighs on a beach. I wasn’t a slit licker like the brunette, why was I doing this?

Because she’s your friend. She deserves to feel good.

If I could have blinked and shook my head I would have. Something had spoken inside my mind. For a moment I agreed – no! Why? Why am I doing this?

Sappho is your friend! Isn’t her womanhood beautiful?

Yes, it’s…no, I don’t like-

How delicious she tastes? How sensual she smells?

She does…she does taste good…and that smell…mmm, yes, I – no! I don’t like girls, I don’t!

Then why are you between the legs of one?

It was true. If I wasn’t a lesbian, why was I licking Sappho’s sweet soft pussy? Why did I love her musk so much? Why did the taste of her wet excitement bring to my body a deep urge to make her cum?

God, why couldn’t I move? Sappho deserved to cum, and I could make her if I could just move. Just a little, just a twitch of my tongue.

As I struggled to bring my beautiful Sappho to the the writhing peak she deserved I swear I could hear the giggling of two women in some far off place…

to be continued…