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It was quiet. A man sitting at the bar drinking beer. No music. The Molentje is what’s called here a ‘brown bar’ smoking is banned now but the nicotine stained walls make it all seem cozy There are candles on the tables. “Zo… '' Justyna said as she placed the wine bottle on the table, “Tell me everything.” It’s unusual, certainly for me, to ﬁnd someone who actually LISTENS to what you say. As I poured out my story she nodded from time to time, gave the occasional “Hm-hm '' but that was all. As you will have realised by now, I need to talk about my feelings. But tonight was different. What was it that had distrubed me so much?“I felt exactly the same when I ﬁrst saw those pictures, Suzy,” said Justyna as she reached across the table for my hand. “But afterwards I couldn't stop thinking about them and it was then that Zoe approached me.” I squeezed her hand.“My God Justyna, did you do it? Have your picture taken like that?”She didn’t answer but reached into her pocket for her phone and. I could feel her clit swell through her pink undies, which rapidly darkened with moist. I felt like some sort of musician playing her undulating body producing a range of variations of sighs, gasps and moans.I leaned over, lifted her chin and kissed her intensely. Our tongues met, danced and curled. She gasped loudly as I slid my teeth over her under lip and I could feel her raise herself against me as her belly touched the moist glans of my swollen member. I eased myself down so she could feel the extent of my weight and to free my hands to fondle her. As my hips met her loins she thrust her hot, wet sheath against my rock hard shaft and clenched me between her thighs. For a moment I was entranced by the motions of our warm bodies gyrating around the same focal point.When I regained control of my senses I freed myself from her enchantment and glided my lips down her neck. She arched in response and I sensed her hips searching for mine, but I quickly calmed her by sliding my hand in.
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Like sweet Sirens the angelic females of her triptych glorified none but themselves. The artist had excited her with this tri-fold mural. As she had at each of her ‘devotionals’ Lydia feasted her envious eyes on their detached beauty. They floated in a blue firmament. For Lydia her small open triptych was a window into a different heaven. Glorifying open arms revealing a thinly veiled eroticism the countenances were brimming with sensuality. She sensed no difference between her own souls building rapture and these angels exposing their beauty on high. It was only a picture, but and incredibly sensual one. They beckoned her to a much different body of worship. A feminine entreaty to self-pleasure. Her worship had lifted Lydia from her knees and took her to the looking glass she kept covered with a shroud. This drape Lydia removed revealing to her own self the full length of her body head to toe. ‘Sin of self-love possesses all mine eye and all my soul and all my every part. And for.

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