I didn't have to think like I did in Chem or math, or memorize like I did in French. I could let my feelings take over, guiding my hands as I sketched...with charcoals or pastels. It gave my brain a welcome respite.Oh, I wasn't any Rembrandt, but at least I could produce something that resembled what I was looking at.Only this time, when I walked into the studio, I was surprised to see that, instead of the usual table on the podium in the front of the art studio, usually with a still life like. Go on tell them how we plan to go back to your house as your parents are out of town and tonight is the night you are finally going to have your way with my ass.Sensing an opportunity I said, “that is right we have been planning it for a couple weeks now, and once my Chloe promises me something she never goes back on her word.”She whispered in my ear…You are one lucky guy… you are lucky that I am so fucking drunk. I suggest you drive us back to your place before I sober up.I gathered our stuff,. More

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