The first thing she felt was the water over her body and sliding sensuously between her legs....what a delicious sensation... how the absence of a few... bits of clothing could turn a swim into such an erotic experience was a mystery...but it was true...she moaned gently to herself as she twisted and turned in the water , wanting to feel the caress of the gentle tide over her body.She slid a hand down her body and touched herself and was not surprised to feel that her pussy was wet , but as if. I'd been deprived of those smells for two years and I missed them. Not exactly like home, but very nice just the same."Come and meet my parents," Georgette said after we hung our jackets on the antique coat stand.I followed her through the dining room and into the kitchen area. Two women were busy working on preparing the meal and they turned as we entered."Mother, Nan, this is John Smith. John, this is my mother Sarah and my grandmother Nanette. She prefers to be called Nan."We said hello to. I wasn't certain how I was going to maintain my current progress, considering that my new paintings had resulted directly from a very personal and very sexual encounter with the women who modeled for them. The fact that I sketched and painted them without the model present was only a part of what freed my style. It was the triggering of an emotional and sensual connection that had enabled me to cast aside the normal control with which I painted. I had already discovered—painfully—what happened. "Which face is the real one?" Pardon?" Mista said."I see two faces," he said, describing them. "I see even more faces behind the first two but I guess they don't count."The faces smiled with grand excitement."Choose the Mista face for now, Jorie," the faces said. Jorie blinked and then he blinked out the beautiful black one that reminded him of the love of the master. He felt sad."I'm back," Jorie said with a long sigh. "You've got a lot to explain to me Mista who isn't Mista." Explanations.