He started to create the contours of my body. He worked fast, but precise. For twenty minutes I stood there, following the movement of his arm with my...eyes. After those twenty minutes, Mr. Monet threw away his paintbrush. He looked at me, twitching his head as a way of summoning me. I walked towards him, around the easel, and looked at his work. It was the most impressive painting. It seemed to consist of only one smooth line, as if he had never taken the brush off of the canvas. It was. There was no way she was going to be able to let her body feed on these new found urges as often as she felt she had to to keep them at bay.Today however she had no plans. Today she would be able to explore whatever her body desired. There would be time later to deal with these problems, she thought as her hands again found their way down across her naked body.As she lay panting and sweating after two more heavy orgasms, she had an idea. Looking at the clock on the bedside table, her mind noted. ..He stood up and dropped his pants. His cock jerked free, swollen and beautiful. She gazed at it with hot eyes, licking her lips with eager anticipation.When he came to her, Barbara took his cock and stroked it for.a while. Lewis rubbed his hand up and down the crotch of her short shorts, and Barbara twisted into his hand.She leaned forward and kissed the tip of his dripping cock. When Lewis pulled her to her feet, she went willingly, pressing against him. Her son pulled the zipper of her. She got both packages out. She hadn’t mentioned an apron, and he didn’t seem to have one.“Am I cooking for both of us, or are you sticking to Wheaties?” she asked when he came in. He was shaven, but wearing a robe of his own.“Please.” She took that as a request for a real breakfast. She put in four strips of bacon. She found plates and put a paper towel on one. When the bacon was done, she put it on that plate to dry and cracked four eggs.“You might set the table,” she said. He did.“Should I.