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From: DrSpin <drspin@newsguy.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Anniv-Flash: Amy in the Style of Her Mother (Mf, exhib)
X-Original-Subject: Aniv-Flash: Amy in the Style of Her Mother (Mf, exhib)
Date: Fri, 10 Nov 2000 08:10:03 -0500
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Aniv-Flash: Amy in the Style of Her Mother (Mf, exhib)
488 words by DrSpin
10 November 2000
===========================================================
Standard Disclaimer:
I write and you read, if you care to. That's all there is
to it. If you are offended, you should not have been here
in the first place and you only have yourself to blame. If
this story is relocated, please leave my name intact as the
author and please include my email address.
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* The author welcomes comments and opinions from readers
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* Ruthie edited expertly. Nat inspires and does the
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"This is a painting of my mother," Amy said.
She'd been rummaging in my store room while my back
was turned, typical of a 16-year-old. She`d had the run of
my house since she was four.
I tried to be enigmatic. "Is it?"
I hadn't seen it for a long time but I remembered it well.
I'd captured her splay-legged on a bentwood chair, leaning
back in languor, her breasts spread wide. One hand trailed
indolently into the dark and thick patch of pubic hair.
Amy rested the painting against the wall. "It's
her, all right," she said. "When did she do that?"
"Maybe you should ask her."
"Yeah, sure. Mother, when did you take your clothes
off for Mr. White? Did you get it off with him or
what? It sure looks like you did."
"You are assuming things you are not entitled to, Amy."
"Is that right? Tell me."
"I'm not telling you anything."
"There are naked women all over the place in
there," she said, pointing into the store room.
"You like painting naked women?"
"I'm a painter."
"You're an old painter."
"I'm still a painter."
"Did my father know?"
"I'm not talking about it, Amy."
"Did you and she get it off?"
"I told you, Amy. It's not a matter for
discussion."
She looked at me with eyes narrowed. "I look
better," she said. "Would you do a painting of me?"
"You want to pose, Amy?"
"Maybe," she said.
"Why?"
"Because she did."
"Is that enough of a reason?"
"My breasts are better. Look how she flops." She
swung back to me. "You'd like to paint me. I can
see it on your face."
She was a difficult subject. She shed her clothes
awkwardly and displayed herself defiantly. Before
long, though, she relaxed and admired herself. Then
she got bored.
"I'm waiting for you to try to fuck me," she said.
"Why do you assume I will?" I asked, brush moving
quickly. It would have to be a one-sitting work.
"Because you fucked my mother and my poor old dad
doesn't know a thing about it."
"Amy, you don't know any such thing."
"It's in the painting, plain to see."
I painted Amy precisely in the style I'd painted her
mother all those years ago, when we were lovers, and
while her father was away on active service. But I
didn't put a move on Amy. I was too old for that.
Next day, when I went to finish it, I found the
painting was gone. I walked the three doors to
Amy's house. She let me in.
In the living room I found Helen looking at my
portrait of Amy. She looked across at me as though
I had cut out her heart. Helen stood up and smacked
Amy hard across the face.
Amy held a hand to her red cheek. But she was
smiling like a winner.
Daughters can be so cruel.
ENDS
===========================================================
* The author welcomes (and gets blood transfusions from)
comments and opinions from readers and is invariably
motivated to respond. Write to: drspin@newsguy.com
The Stories of DrSpin are at http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/DrSpin/www
===========================================================
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/DrSpin/www/
"That man that hath a tongue, I say is no man,
If with his tongue he cannot win a woman."
--The Two Gentlemen of Verona (III, i, 104-105)
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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