"It's not very creative." It's nice. I like it," Bianca retorted.When we stood in front of a large square canvass that had been artfully painted with dark blue on the upper half and a lighter blue on the lower half, the most artistic element being the line where they met, a wavy joining, I commented, "Monkeys could paint something more interesting."Bianca looked at it. "I like it." You have no taste. You don't know anything about art," I countered."You know less," she observed. "You don't even have a memory."Touché. I smiled and took her hand. For another hour or so we meandered, disagreeing completely on what made art interesting. I had a great time.As we headed away, the Maserati growling quietly, Bianca suggested we head home for lunch, not the Chinese restaurant I'd planned on. I was eager to try Chinese. Sweet and sour sounded like an oxymoron. How could something be both at the same time?As soon as we entered the house Bianca took my hand. "Come on," she urged with a tug,. She bolted out of the room, racing toward the steps. But once she had Cindy and Lea in sight, she stopped, panting.It seemed as if Lea was with Cindy, but not with Cindy... now. With an odd duality, Tina knew that this was happening now, but would also happen in the future, if only she, Tina, knew what to look for. And it was important that she remember this, because she needed to know -- needed to remember -- that she had to find Cindy. Even though that made no sense to her at this moment, she sensed that it would mean something to her... eventually.Tina shook her head to clear it and continued down the stairs. Cindy was alone, the Goddess having disappeared. Cindy was looking off into who knew what. Her skin was beaded with sweat, her pussy was dripping wet and her nipples a dark coral color. She looked like she'd just had an orgasm, but Tina knew that wasn't true. Well, meeting a Goddess could be a very... trying... experience."Lover," whispered Tina softly. "You there, hon?"Tina.
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