For once in my lifetime I have attended an art gallery. Not for any intellectual orgasms, but for hot girls with good taste. You see I have always been kind of a sapiosexual ( yes I have googled that). And on top of that the theme of this gallery was ‘Depictions of nudity’. Hell yeah it was like Disneyland for me. However, I was roaming around, highly confused between where to concentrate, live art or some classic pictorial porn with weird positions ( judge all you want, I know I am a low life pervert). I was standing in front of this small painting with a couple of people doing it wildly and somehow strangely there were no boundaries of their body, an extended brush work was all there between their structures and the rest of the canvas. They seemed pretty satisfied with each other, I was smiling for their eternal satisfaction.” Why are you here”? A voice from behind broke my erotic dream, and quite embarrassingly I found my nose just five inches apart from the breasts of the nude woman in the painting. And adding to my misery it was a girl’s voice. But you know all these embarrassments are kind of a routine for perverts like us. So I turned, tried to act like a stud. Man! She was something, I tried my best to look at her breasts and other body parts but all I could ponder upon was her eyes. Big, brown with swan like eyelashes, beholding  my obscurity. But those were not the unique parts, they were peculiarly liquidized, in a beautiful way. I could feel an uncomfortable mannerism over her face, oh face! She was kind of dusky with a sharp nose and carefully parted lips.” I….I was just admiring this great piece of painting”. If there was any divine character for art and creativity I m sure he/she died that day with terrible hiccups.” Really? By literally pressing your nose over her breasts”?I tried to be invisible, but you know I am only human.” So tell me why you find this painting so fascinating”. It was my turn to get hiccups “The passion with which the painter tried to explore the nudity, I think”. Yes I was that stupid, I felt like running away as soon as those craps came out of my mouth. But there was a strange urge to see inside her eyes, to sink into that passion water, that kept me from doing so. Almost for ten minutes after that I had to listen a well informed lecture about contemporary art and it’s various fields and all. And how we, the ‘mass’ trying to kill these artistic perceptions day by day. ” All men can do is jerk off through his life and get a heart attack at the end”. Ok feminism! Well who cares just die inside her eyes man, it was my heart speaking. After a brief silence I spoke,” I promise you I will never enter into any art gallery after this, but do you think it would be completely inappropriate if I ask you out for a small walk and a cup of coffee? You know only to listen some more about the contemporary art”. Perhaps it was the best sentence I spoke that evening.” Hell art, you are drooling all over my eyes”. She was too smart and cocky for my foolishness.” But I guess even a one sided discussion about fine art over a hot cup of coffee in a rainy evening is worth a try”. To control my melodramatic smile was the toughest thing I had to do after that. We got out, few rain drops and a breezy city with dream lights were waiting for us. It was the time for a cozy place with two facing chairs, coffees, and one person speaking while other dying inside those hypnotic ‘baby blue’. I was getting the salt of my life. 

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