"No, no. Behave like the good girl I hear you are," she warned, lovingly. "Let's get these off of you." She lifted the naughty adornment off of me and... sat down gently. "Keep your eyes closed, or you won't get your present," the woman instructed. She moaned, almost cutely, "You are quite the pretty, little lady. Do you mind if I kiss you again?" I shook myself, trying to stay focused and coherent amidst my horny madness. "No, Miss. I'd love it," I confessed, biting my thin lips in anticipation.. Me: Is the blouse really necessary?Mom: Of course. Or else my bra would be there.Mom was a little shy to say this.Me: Some people wear it like that.Mom: Well, I’m not some people. So forget it.I became sad.Me: You are just finding reasons not to wear all this. You could have said no from the beginning then.She was surprised I got so sad by this.Mom: Alright, but just this one time.I cheered up, and she laughed.Mom: Although, I don’t see the point. It’s not like I can wear this outside. Anyway,. "Do you want more?"I'm not sure whether he means more food, or more kissing, but the answer's the same. "Yes, please."He chuckles and feeds me more cherries, cheese and honeyed bread. I can hear him chewing as well. When I ask for it, he presses the wine to my lips.At length, Martin sighs and sits back. "I think we've had enough of this. Stay put for a moment, if you please."He leans forward, and dishes clatter. They've been spread before us, I realize. Probably on a blanket, like an indoor. I just...”“I know. I couldn’t wait to surprise you.”He pulled his eyes away from the expressive, darkly colorful portrait to look at the other paintings. Freddy was more social, meeting the gathering of mothers of children dancing downstairs, at least a couple she knew. Again, like the landscapes, more excellent art done by unknowns in diverse modern styles, none more contemporary than the fifties. Except one. Superrealistic. Pop. Conceptual. Funny. A portrait of a lovely and interesting.