The Artist

by Zek_n_pet

I had been looking forward to this party for a couple of weeks. Should be an interesting setting, all the fashionable people, his new works on display, champagne flowing, in a deserted warehouse on the very wrong side of the tracks. I knew the artist, had since high school, our acquaintance being renewed now and then through our shared interest in Renaissance revival. I knew his art well, Mondrian-like, all lines and color, but in his color, something dark, looking at his paintings set up a disturbance inside me, made my heart beat a little faster, no explanation for it, it was just something under the surface, made me wonder, made me wet.

The approaching full moon had given me several nights of disturbed sleep, so it was no surprise that after a couple of glasses of champagne, finding that very comfy couch tucked away in a corner of the room, and lulled by the hum of conversation, I fell asleep.

I awoke to find myself in a rather unusual predicament (ha, understatement is my...

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