She had her messy painting clothes on and she’d simply collapsed on the mattress and pulled the old blanket over the top of her.Three easels stood l...ned up – each with a canvas sitting on them. I walked over to look at what she’d done and snorted. All three had clearly been painted on but then coated over with a layer of whitewash. All that work and she’d ended up with precisely nothing.“Wow! Mum!” I said softly to my sleeping mother. “Picasso must be shaking in his boots. He had his blue. .. um... yes?"As soon as the word came out of his mouth, I turned and kneeled before him. Without looking up at his face, I undid his belt, unzipped his fly and heard him gasp when I fished out his semi-erect cock. It was one of the nicer ones I had seen in my life up to then. Not too fat, not too long and not at all crooked. Perfect for sucking, I reasoned."Your cock is nice," I thought aloud, "I like it." And so did he, apparently, since he got harder as I spoke.I stuck my tongue out and. More

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