Chapter 32
“But is it art?” I asked the woman next to me as we both peered at the highly stylized painting in front of us.
She looked askance at me. “What is art?”
“Good question.”
I didn’t know her name, but I didn’t know the names of a lot of the women who came to Silk Sheets’ parties. She was pretty. Older. It was obvious she dyed her hair and had had some plastic surgery done over the years, but in her red dress holding a cocktail, she looked every inch the socialite she probably was.
She was just a socialite who happened to be a swinger. Her husband probably got off on watching her f**k strangers. Probably while he was f*****g a stranger.
But who was I to judge? I got off on watching strangers, near-strangers, and friends f**k my wife while I was f*****g a stranger, near-strange
