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Art by Ingrid de Jong


Acryl op papier, 40x50 cm

There she is again. Alone. The door closes behind her; he has left. For how long this time?

Will she see him again or was that friendly slap on the ass the last contact. She doesn't know. She never knows. She grabs her head in desperation, trying to restrain herself. No room for tears now, for she has enjoyed the moment too much for that. She also knows that he enjoyed it as much as she did. She doesn't doubt that for a second. Every second of their wonderful time together is probably more vividly etched in his memory than in hers. That's what he lives for: for making memories. Memories that no one can take away from him. And he's right. A wonderful purpose in life; she thinks the same way. However, his departure now hits her hard. She doesn't want to have to live with memories just yet. She will have time for that later. She now wants to make them, discover them, experience them! Yet he is gone and she stands there, still glowing from the past few hours. How beautiful they were! Never before had she met someone who could make her head spin so much and never before had she longed for someone so much. There he was again, today. After what seemed like an eternity. Big and sexy he stood on the doorstep; his beautiful eyes mischievously radiant. How wonderful it was to be able to look him in the eye again. So nice to hear his sultry voice teasingly asking if she still recognized him, because it had been so long since they had seen each other. All the pain of the long wait vanished in one fell swoop and a wave of joy washed over her. In the close embrace that followed, she took a deep breath of his scent. All her senses were sharp. The warmth of his broad chest radiated through his white shirt and filled her starving emptiness. He pressed her close to him, his hand on her lower back. A wave of excitement swept through her. How she longed for him!

From that moment on she let herself be carried away on the waves of passion, passion and fantasy. A boundless fantasy that is as challenging as it is exciting. It gives an endless feeling of freedom to be able to share this pleasure with someone who can also feel intensely. Such a shame that for him it can only exist in fantasy. The reality is that the door has gently closed again and it will soon seem as if it never happened. She knows it wasn't fantasy because her body is telling her she just made another wonderful memory. She still feels the eroticism coursing through her blood, already longing for the next encounter. For now, she has a memory of the most sensual and erotic moments of her life and doesn't know when new ones will be made. She looks at the walls around her. Walls to protect her. Old walls, which show as much faded glory as her reflection. Yet she smiles, for she still sees the beauty, despite the decay. She feels the warmth radiating from it. She sees the beautiful colors and a deep peace descends over her because of that old familiar image.

It gives her the strength to live for rare memories.

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