"Need a breath? Huh?" the stranger asked without breaking pace. Josie nodded furiously.He pulled the bag up just enough to uncover her mouth. Josie ga...ped for air."FHOK YOU!" she almost shouted as she gasped for air."Ah ah ah. Bad girl." The stranger yanked the bag back over her head and kept fucking. The room was filled with hard, loud slapping sounds as his thighs collided over, and over again with her bare ass cheeks. Josie struggled to keep her composure, but it was too much. Her lungs felt. He created for an audience that was not capable of appreciating him, paintings that demanded an emotional response from people unable to emote.His one last act was to shut himself away from the rest of The Cloud, to great images just from his own mind. After travelling the world, he locked himself up deep underground in a nuclear bomb shelter to work; only his associates on the outside could open up the shelter. Three months later, they came looking for him, and found The Last Artist dead, he. More

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