The Anniversary Gift
- 2 years ago
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Masterpiece free porn video
The art gallery opening was today, a new artist that not many people had heard of, but was quickly becoming the toast of the town. I was busy fixing my hair while the husband was humming silly tunes in the other room. I exited the bathroom, wearing my red summer dress. He had asked that I wear it because it was his favorite, but for me it showed too much arm, too much leg and too many inappropriate curves. He saw me and whistled, immediately wrapping his strong-arms about me, nibbling my neck whispering, ‘Ooooh maybe we won’t make it to the opening after all.’ I shook my head, barely appreciating the humor, and pushed him away, heading towards my full-length mirror. He stood behind me a moment looking at the reflection before adding, ‘Who is going to look at boring paintings when they have this masterpiece to look at!’ A pinch of my bottom and he was gone.
I looked at myself in the mirror and shook my head. What exactly could anyone find attractive about me. Sure, in my youth I had breasts to kill, an hourglass figure to envy, and the baby-got-back behind that many men drool over. But as I looked at the person in the mirror I could not help but wonder, what happened? Well that was easy. I started letting myself go after marriage, getting into that ‘comfy’ stage. The baby-got-back bottom was more like baby-got-too-much-back now. The hourglass had a few extra lumps and handles where there shouldn’t be. The killer breasts were now not as firm, not as perky, since having the baby. And of course that little bundle from heaven left its mark on my stomach, in more ways than one.
I had to turn away before I got so depressed I grabbed the bon-bons and flumped on the couch for a round of TV. I found my husband and told him we were ready to go. I kissed my little one, hugging him tight, and thanked my mother yet again for watching him. She laughed and told us to get out of here and we were on our way.
The gala was packed, way more people than was expected. This was a new artist, hardly known, but the gallery decided to put a color print of one of his pictures in the article about the opening and it seems people were impressed. The buzz was that he was very into realism but added a hint of off hues to contradict that reality. It was a new approach and I was eager to see it!
I made my way through the murmuring throngs of admirers and found the most popular piece. It was a sunset with two lovers embraced in a kiss on a grassy hill. The colors f the sunset were not the traditional orange, yellow and red, but added blue, purple and others, and he actually pulled it off. What amazed me was that he people in his painting looked almost as if I could touch them, hard to believe it was made of paint. The only betrayal was the fact that he painted them with the same hues as the sunset, as if the colors from the sunset were washing over them. It was truly a masterpiece.
As the night went on people drifted through and left, but I just stayed, looking over each painting, finding new things each time. I always ended up at the sunset picture. During my last gaze upon it an older man approached me and joined in the look over of the painting. I turned and recognized him as the artist himself. I quickly introduced myself and congratulated him on such a successful opening. He gave a polite smile and sort of shrugged. I ignored this and started gushing about his painting, about how I loved the realism, loved the colors, just loved it so much! I told him that he must be so proud to be so gifted and talented in his art.
With a sorrowful sigh he shook his head and told me, ‘All evening I have heard everyone compliment me with utter amazement on this painting, on all my paintings. I just don’t understand what they are seeing. Ok for example look here,’ he pointed at a part of the sunset where the green mixed in with the other abstract colors, ‘Ok the green, being used in the grass, should not have been used here, it looks so absurd. And here, see where the girl’s arm is too long for her body? It just looks so amateurish. Oh yes and the grassy section here, well the brush strokes are so sloppy, just awful. And those are just a few of the mistakes. No, this is nothing but an advanced paint by number. I tried to turn down the gala opening, but was pressured into it. I feel like such a fool for hanging these things up.’ With that he shook his head and sulked away.
I sat there dumfounded. I turned back to the painting and just could not understand how he could nit pick and point out such petty flaws. No one looked at a painting and saw those things! They looked at the picture as a whole and–
My thoughts were stopped in their tracks, and I thought back to myself, standing in front of the mirror, finding every tiny thing wrong with me. Things that my husband, and many others, just did not see. They saw me as a whole, as who I am, all wrapped up together in a body that may not be perfect but that is not what they wanted. They did not expect perfection did they, when they looked at my body. Just as when I looked at these paintings I did not expect a photograph. I expected a realistic representation of life, complete with the signs of it being created by a human, which included flaws. Flaws that did not take away but enhanced.
When I got home I excused myself early for bed. I removed my clothes and stood in front of my mirror, eyes closed. I prepared myself to open my eyes and look at myself, as a whole. Not to focus on the little things I usually see, but to see myself as others see me. I counted One….Two….Three….and when I opened my eyes I saw beautiful hazel eyes dancing before me, a mix of green and brown that blended so well together. I saw brown curls that brought out the color of those eyes, curls that so many women have envied in my life. I saw breasts that were still well rounded, and an hourglass figure peeking through. I saw the curves of my hips, and yes of a stomach that did show signs of child carrying and childbirth, but you know what? That showed that I was a mother, and that is a wonderful thing to be! No I am not a supermodel, but I am a mother, and a wife, and my family loves me, my husband finds me very attractive.
One final look, and with a smile I said aloud to myself, ‘Now that is a masterpiece.’
Hester
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