“Beth. Hey Dumpling,” I said as I stroked her shoulder. “That isn’t my girlfriend ... exactly.”“Exactly? What does that mean? Wait!” Bet... hadn’t stopped looking at the painting since she sat down. I’d seen her look at my paintings before and she was looking for what I’d hidden. I often put shapes in the leaves of a landscape or hid treasures among the rocks I painted and Beth had become an expert at finding the hidden images. I’d been surprised that, as far as I knew, no one had found the. ” “I don’t believe that,” she said. “I’ve had a bit of experience, you know. Men are usually already working on their exit strategy before the last bit of semen has been ceremoniously bestowed.” “Not always,” he said, running his hand over her bottom and tracing her perineum with his fingertips. “If it was good, sometimes they’re thinking about where they’re going to shoot it on the next go-round.” “Well, that sounds like a bit of a lie to me. When the seed departs, conscience rushes in to fill. More

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