To me, his paintings were just splashes of color and jagged lines. I couldn't understand his works, but it seems Maria did. His paintings spoke to her...on some level that I could never see or understand."She met him at a gallery and asked him if he would look at my work and give us an honest opinion. The gallery had some of my drawings and a couple of paintings on consignment, but nothing sold. Maria said that they had to go into the back warehouse to find my works. The gallery man had said that. T-thank you!" Well, if you ever want me to do it again, just put it through the fence and if I'm around I'll do it again." Then, with her usual sharpness back in her voice, she said, "Now pull your pants up and go do whatever you young people do! I've got a lot of work to do in my garden!"Michael stepped back, pulled his shorts up and ran into the house to his bedroom where he laid on his bed thinking about what had just happened, confused that an old woman would actually *like* having him cum. My hand wrapped around my shaft, and I pumped myself into a frenzy. It actually felt good. I breathed heavily, gasping for more. I alternated between jerking off and sniffing my daughter’s pussy aroma. The excitement was so intense, I thought my heart would burst.And then I pulled the panties away and looked at them under the overhead light.Oh God.It had stains on them! The gusset of the fabric was a turquoise colour, but not completely. Right on the gusset was a sticky white residue. It was. I rolled atop her, my bulk pushing her against the bed, my hard shaft sliding between her legs. I raised my hips, reached between us, and guided the head of my straining cock to her moist opening. I pushed and felt my cock begin to slip into her tight, hot, wet opening. ‘You’re so tight!’ I said. ‘So big!’ she moaned, ‘Feels like you’re splitting me open! It feels so good! Oh God, does it feel good!’ Sensations billowed through me as my shaft was engulfed in her snug sheath. I was making love.