" Really?" she asked, surprised. "I didn't know that. Do you paint?" Yes," I said. "Paint and draw. Sculpt a little. I like to get my hands in the cla... and feel the shape and texture of the object." Do artists see things differently than other people?" she asked."That's hard to say," I answered. "Remember the grapefruit?" She laughed and nodded. "Well, we see the same thing you do, but we think about it differently. We think in terms of light and color, texture and chiaroscuro. It's like seeing. She surprised me by putting her arms around me and holding me lightly. I held her securely. She was only about 5’4” and after spending the weekend with tall teens, she seemed almost tiny.Her hold increased ever so slightly as she lay her head against my shoulder. “This is so...”I tried to finish her sentence for her, “Awkward?”“No ... no. Not to me.” She paused to look for the right word and when she found it, she looked up at me. “Welcome,” she said, smiling. “Really. Very welcome.” She let go. You bite my breasts, consuming them, giving them mlutiple tiny breast hickies that send electricity down to my clit. You squeeze my ass and pull me forcefully around so that my back is towards you now. You pull me towards you, and in one smooth motion, you have impaled me, all the way in so that my ass can feel your balls. And you fuck me. Hard. Like an a****l. And you start to breathe hard and moan. You are pounding me so hard that I clench the sheets for support, but you keep going,. Until I can get this cleaned up." We'll have to call the police in any event." No," Walt said instinctively. "I don't want this to get out. I'll handleit."Grace caught the tone in Walt's voice. She laid her hand gently on histattooed forearm and took it away against instinctively. It was electricwith a bad energy."No Walt. That's not the way. Leave it to the police. It's their job." I don't want her to know a thing about this." I don't think it's possible to keep it from her Walt. She doesn't.