. What did she mean? Did Tasha know her reasons for being here in a way that she didn't even know herself?She tried out the dial on the console, careful to keep her eyes on the floor. She wasn't ready to see them, not yet. She kept the light low, and rose to pour a glass of wine, always averting her eyes from the rectangles calling out to her on that one wall. They were large paintings, she could see that much without really looking. It was almost as though they were whispering to her in some way, telling her that their scale was the least of the differences between these paintings and the hypnotism illustrations out there in the office.She was procrastinating. She was afraid. Because she knew, somehow, that she might never be the same after seeing these paintings. Intuition? A glimpse into her own future? Or Pierce, these feelings inserted into the fabric of her being by his magical voice?There was no way to know.And she had to stop stalling, and look.A thought arose, sending every. Every once in a while, when I was laying in my bed at night not yet asleep listening to Dad fuck Mom, he would suddenly stop and I would hear his feet hit the floor followed by their bedroom door flying open and his heavy footsteps coming down the hall heading to the bathroom. When he would pass my open bedroom door I could see him holding his hard cock in his hand and sometimes he was stroking it.(During hot summer months it was common for folks like us to sleep with our bedroom doors open and windows up to get a cooling night breeze to flow through the room. We didn't have air conditioning. Even my parents would sleep that way unless they were fucking. It didn't take me long to figure out that whenever their door was closed, that was a good indicator that Dad was going to fuck Mom.)When he would get to the bathroom he would stay in there for about 5 to 10 minutes and I could sometimes hear him grunting followed by the toilet flushing then after another a minute or two I could hear.
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