We went to an art show in the basement of the Village Hall. Local artists, according to the announcement in the local paper, and the show was not well attended; in fact we were the only visitors. And there were only about six paintings. But one of them caught our attention.

At first we weren’t sure why. The scene looked pleasant but innocuous. A pond at dawn. A duck taking flight, and a couple of ducklings swimming along. Still, it did a little something to us. More than a little something. Our nipples stiffened. Our clits twitched. Our cunts moistened.