’ She looked at his bookcase and saw that there were a few shelves devoted exclusively to poetry. He seemed to enjoy the works of Graves, De la Mare... St. Vincent Millay and the Elizabethans. On the wall there was one watercolour that caught her attention. It was a picture of a woman in a red dress holding a fan. When she looked at it closely she saw that it was signed ‘Matthijs Maris’ in one of the sticks. She wondered who the painter and his subject were. ‘That’s nice,’ she said when Mo came. She still shudders with every touch I give, you can see her orgasm crashing over her. Moving up to kiss her, my fingers still inside, she grips and sucks my fingers with her pussy. I feel each pulse and kiss her as if it's our last kiss.As I feel those pulses die down and the glaze in her eyes fades, I pull her into my arms, snuggling her into my lap, as I sit in her chair. She kisses me with every ounce of passion in her body, her legs again wrapping around my hips to pull me closer. She then. More

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