It wasn’t that he didn’t like art, he did. It fascinated him how a good artist could transmit any of a whole range of emotions with ink or clay or...paint. It wasn’t that he didn’t like galleries, either. He and Paige had met in an art gallery – The Met, in fact. No… the fact was, he was dreading this opening, at this gallery, this night. There was something about the artist that Jack just didn’t like. Something about the way his voice could be lilting one moment, then rough as a lumberjack the. Derrek pushed his tounge out into Kelly's pussy. Go on and fuck his face Kelly. HE said. Kelly slowely started gyrating her hips on Derreks face. He forced his tounge deep into his supervisors twat. Kellys movements became more desperate, and she fucked his face harder and harder. To her humiliation Kelly climaxed and splashed her pussy joice all over young Derreks face.She caught her breathe. Her heavy breasts still heaving. She opened her eyes hoping that it was all just a bad dream,. Yet at the same time, with the feeling she has for him, Yulia does wonder if it will interfere with her killing him. Will it be ultimately what kills her?All too soon she reaches the end of the alley. The darkness fades away or her eyes have quickly become accustomed to it. There is nothing here. There is no one waiting. There is no trap to be sprung. There is not even one of those large rats everyone around the world hears about. Then she hears a crunch of glass. Yulia spins around, her pistol. ’ ‘Where’s Mrs. T?’ Debbie asked. ‘She, ah, had a little too much party,’ Larry replied. ‘She’s upstairs, in bed, sound asleep.’ Actually, his wife had gotten bombed and made passes at several men at the party. Larry caught her kissing Bud Tillson in the kitchen and they had a huge fight. After that, he insisted they leave. The minute they got home she went upstairs and, by the time he got upstairs, Monica was passed out colder than a mackerel in their bed. What really pissed Larry off was that.