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Catherine moved through the gallery. She felt like she had been going from room to room forever and yet she seemed to be the only person here.

Her feet echoed through the vast emptiness of the portrait section.

“It’s no wonder it never ends ,” she said to herself. “Only one portrait for every room. I feel like I have passed through a thousand rooms.”

Her feet were tired and her body ached in a way that surprised her. She felt as if she had aged fifty years since she was here and barely had the energy to make one foot move after the other.

The gallery was the strangest she had ever seen. She had never been here before yet each portrait seemed familiar.

When she went to read the names of the pieces she found that the writing was strangely blurred and unreadable. And yet the faces all seemed so familiar.

“Where are all the attendants,” she thought. “Not even anyone here to tell me where the exit is.”

Catherine had had enough. She was tired to the point of exhaustion and found the place too creepy for comfort.

She moved into another room and felt sure it was one she had past through before. There was a portrait of a young boy standing by a creek with his dog. But the painting was different now, the face of the boy was gone, it was just plain white canvas where only an hour before a face had been.

The strange thing was she could not remember what the boys face had looked like.

Startled she moved through to the next room and found it was again a room she had been to before but now there was a portrait of a young man in riding gear but his face was missing.

She looked for the title but found it even more blurred than before. Catherine moved slowly and ever more painfully canlı bahis from room to room, desperate to find the exit and escape these hauntingly familiar yet now faceless paintings.

She came to a room that featured a statue instead of a painting. It was a male nude, lying back on a bed, a sheet covering his groin but the artist had hinted that he was in a state of arousal.

She was sure it had been white marble before but now it had a flesh like hue all over except for the face.

The face had haunted her with its familiarity but now its features were gone, just smooth marble where once a face had stared back at her with an erotic gaze in his eyes.

The rest of the statue was made of the most lifelike stone she had ever seen. It was as if he were real flesh and blood. Even the sheet covering him appeared real now and she could not fight the desire to touch it.

To her amazement the sheet was real and she was able to slide it back, revealing the man’s erect genitalia which stood up as the sheet was cast aside.

The weariness in her bones seemed to lift from her and she sensed the room around her changing as well.

It took on a familiar scene, like a memory just out of reach. There was the smell of water, the sound of distant waves and the bed seemed to expand as the room contracted. It became a beautiful room, filled with flowers and ornate furniture richly carved.

She found she was naked and lay down on the bed with the faceless man. Yet even as she looked his face began to form and became so familiar to her that she could almost say his name. She found great love for him in her heart as if it remembered him though her mind did not.

He slowly sat up and they moved together, their lips bahis siteleri meeting in a kiss that seemed to speak to her of the past. Gently she pushed him down into the bed and sat across his body, moving her vagina down his torso until she sat just over the head of his penis. His hard shaft rubbed over her moist entrance in a way that filled her with desire for him, with a need to feel him inside of her.

His hand reached for her face and lovingly stroked her cheek as she bucked her hips, rubbing his penis across the lips of her vagina, causing her to become wetter and her need for him all the greater.

She took his hands and moved them to her breasts. The rough texture of his hands against her smooth soft flesh made her burn with a desire too strong to resist and she slowly lowered herself onto his shaft, feeling the head penetrate her body. It moved inside of her and filled the walls of her vagina but also swept through her mind.

She rode him as he began to move his hips, pushing himself deeper and deeper inside her and their eyes met as she looked down.

His name was like a dream that sits in the back of your mind on waking, a memory of colours but not shapes, of sounds but not words.

Her heart felt fit to burst with love for this man whose hands moved over her breasts. He spoke words as their bodies entwined but they seemed to blend in with the sound of the waves as if the sea was speaking through him but she did not know its language.

Her vagina contracted around him, as if embracing him as he moved inside her and she felt a climax build and release then slowly begin to build again.

“Oooooh,” she cried as his eyes looked into hers and seemed to see deep into her mind and know her inner bahis şirketleri most being. She was naked before him in body mind and spirit. She was vulnerable to him yet so close to him she felt they were one.

Yet she could only see into his heart, his mind was blurred and as indecipherable as the portraits that she now saw hanging on the walls of the room.

The faceless paintings seemed to stare down at her like a thousand memories of her life that had no name and no place but were real and lying just out of her reach.

His hand caressed her face then moved down her body, his fingers tingling down her side. Their hands locked together and she squeezed them tightly, their fingers entwined like their bodies as she screamed to release the pressure that exploded in her from another overwhelming climax.

“Oh Tom,” she cried. And his name filled her mind. It was Tom, her Tom , her lovely husband Tom!

Tom sat beside his wife feeling her wrinkled and thin hands squeeze him tightly.

“Tom,” she heard him whisper. “Tom!”

“Nurse,” he called out as a figure in white passed by the room. “Nurse!”

Slowly and with disinterest in her eyes the young nurse moved into the room.

“Tom,” Catherine said.

“She remembers me,” he said. “She’s getting better.”

“Tom, tom,” whispered Catherine.

“Now, Tom,” said the nurse. “You know that she will never be better. She is late stage dementia. Her mind is gone Tom. There is no cure, no recovery.”

Tom’s eyes were filled with tears. He struggled to speak as Catherine held his hand in hers, gripping it tightly in a way that he remembered from their wedding night.

“Tom,” she whispered.

“She’s in there,” he said. “I know her and you don’t. I can feel her there. She remembers me.”

“Yes, Tom,” said the nurse and walked away.

“Tom,” said Catherine.

Tom kissed her forehead.

“Yes dear,” he said. “I am here. I will always be here.”

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