“You want to be a dirty girl?” he asked. She reached over and squeezed his semi-erect manhood and felt it stiffen further. “I am a dirty little girl.” She smiled seductively.The song ended and the guys at stage erupted into cheers and loudly clapped their hands. Some rose, exposing packages that athletic shorts were not meant to hide. She shuddered inside with desire for those cocks exposed. Wetter she became and stopped her husband from going any further with his under-table play. If not she was going to cum right then and there. Visualizing exposed hard cocks, naked dancers, and pussy massage combined with alcohol had her ready for some fucking! To the room she was ready to go. Rising up weak-kneed and a bit tipsy she took her man’s hand in hers. Before exiting she noticed the tall, dark and handsome stud at stage(he was by far the best looking of the bunch, the one she had already envisioned naked and standing over her with massive hard cock in hand). He looked her dead in the. And there was no note on it.I lifted the drape to look at the empty easel.God-fucking-damn it!The doorbell rang and I went out to receive our shipment of art, carefully checking off each item and opening the crates and boxes before I let the Fedex guy leave. Everything that was on the bill of lading was on the truck. He pulled away and I was left there with a room full of partly opened boxes and crates and a sinking feeling that I’d never see that self-portrait again.I got everything stowed correctly, stacking the empty crates against a wall. We’d probably need them again sometime soon. If it hadn’t been for the arrival of the Fedex guy, I’d have rushed home and demanded to know who had been in the studio. It didn’t look like it had been broken into or disturbed. That meant the painting had to have been taken by someone with a key—my family. The darkness I remembered putting on the canvas, slowly crept into my heart. God-fucking damn them all!I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that it.
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