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She imagined her grandmother entertaining a few select friends here in former days but she also felt that maybe her music might have been a form of private relaxation.On one, otherwise blank, wall hung a square canvas in a heavy ornate frame. It was a beautiful painting of her grandmother by an unknown hand. Her own likeness to Eleanora was remarkable and had always been commented upon by her family but here there seemed to be a deep sadness in the eyes of the paining that Claudia could not fathom. The strangest thing about the painting though was that it was not signed. How odd, she thought, that after having taken such care to produce a perfect likeness of Eleanora as she had been in her youth, the artist should then omit to sign his work. It was as though the portrait was a trifle, a token of affection and of no real or lasting consequence. On the first night in the house she had taken the painting down with considerable difficulty and looked on the back of it for any sign of a. And like she did earlier on I rubbed the ice cube on her pussy. "Aaaaah", she said, "aaah huh, aaah huh. Oooooooo, shit. Oh, that's so good." She felt even better once I began digging my tounge deep in her pussy and hitting that G-spot. After that I longer needed ice. Once I started working on her I wasn't thinking about the heat anymore. It was hot enough already. "Ooooooooh! Aaaaaaaaah! Oh, yes. Yes, that's so good. Oh, that feels so good. Hmmmmmmmm. Lick that pussy. Lick it good. Hmmmmmmmm. Oooooooh. Shiiiiit. Aaaaaaah! Suck it. Suck that pussy. Aaaaaaaaaah! Ooooooooooo! Fuuuuuuck! Hurry up. Put it in. Put that gynormous dick inside me." .
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