As Dave’s mind began to drift even further away from the lesson, he began to think about his lovely girlfriend. She had rather pale white skin and l...ng brown hair that she always kept perfectly straight. Her breasts were still small, but they always looked good in the tight tops she would fit herself into. Her butt was small and tight, but again, tight clothing made it look good enough to eat. Despite being mentioned many times by Dave, they had not had anal sex yet.The young boy’s cock began. ‘Get the girl and get out! Russians OTW. 3min or less.’ Deep inside me, the Monster roared. Leave her Mason. Get out. Survive. But there was something else. Something that grabbed me from deep inside. A small voice I had not heard in a very long time. Begging me to help this girl survive. I knew, without knowing how I knew, I was at a crossroads in my life. Something told me, if I left this poor girl to die, that there would be nothing left of Mason Griggs. That whatever good there may be left. He had tried to make up for the time and love that he'd denied her as he mourned their loss.Now, three years after that reconciliation, they had become lovers. Jim wasn't quite sure how it had happened, and at first he was scared shitless. But he could feel her love, and he had let her into a part of his heart that even he had forgotten existed.But back to his immediate discomfort. He needed to get to the bathroom while he could still hold his bladder from leaking out everywhere. Easing out. " Why not a photograph?" Because a photograph would show me like Cromwell - warts and all. Not that I have any, but an artist would paint me at my best, like you with this landscape - emphasising the good parts, omitting or modifying the less good, and producing an image of me as I would like to be seen." You've thought about this for some time, haven't you?" Yes." And why ask me?" Because you're the only artist I know, one I trust, and one I respect. You treat me as a person, no, a lady. No.