They had screens so as to keep out the bugs. A screen door let him keep the door open as well. The overhang of the metal roof would hopefully keep out...the rain.The room was long and shallow. Near the entrance sat a bench, with a couple lights on tripods around it, and across from it an empty easel and a high stool, a small table beside the stool held a painter’s palate and a cup. Along the front some paintings rested faced away on their sides. Some boxes looked to hold fabric and other smaller. " He playfully chided her."You know very well I am. I'm only a slut to you and Bobby." She proudly declared."Yeah," he smilingly agreed as he tweaked her nipple. "So how about a nice, hard fuck Aunt Jane?" But, Tommy." She whined, "I'm so tired!" Oh c'mon Aunt Jane, you've never turned down a fuck in your whole life. Besides, you're my slut remember?" He reminded her once again. Jane just whimpered a protest and pouted."C'mon Aunt Jane, we both know you want it." His hand snaked downwards to. More

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