GrethelMuller

A security guard at the Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam befriends a new employee with whom she will share her work nights.. Don't miss this story, written by Thais Duhtie. Continue below.. The sound of the employee access door closing made me sigh with relief, like every afternoon. At that time, in Amsterdam, it would get dark before the museum closed its doors to visitors and the building was plunged into darkness.. Only the emergency lights barely provided any light and, along with my flashlight, they were all the company I used to have until the shift change. Working as a night watchman was not my dream job, but working at the Rijksmuseum was something different.. He was a student of the art school of his father, and after he had finished his studies, he decided to pursue a career in the arts, "though I was a bit of a craftsman." My passion for art was forcibly diluted over time, while I tried possible professions to earn a living without deciding on any.. The need to pay my expenses led me to stay with the option that seemed calmer. And yes, it certainly was. Or, at least, it had been at the beginning, when I spent the hours of my shift walking through the dark rooms, attentive to the slightest noise; but the museum remained in a dead silence.. He didn't even have contact with the other security guard, the one in the camera room.. Over time, I learned to navigate the eighty galleries and recognize the works of art, and whenever I could, I borrowed a book about the museum from the gift shop and sat in front of the paintings to reveal their mysteries.. However, the tranquility was replaced by something even better when a new camera room guard entered.. We had never met face to face, but every night we had long conversations over the walkie. First to get bored less, then to get to know each other better and now to try to discover where this was going. Katja attracted me like no one had in years and what had once been long nights at work had turned into dates in front of the most iconic works of Dutch art where time flew by. When my shift ended, I wanted it to be five in the afternoon again so I could continue talking to her and get lost in her soft, calm voice, which made me fall in love with her and excite me in equal measure.. The spell ended when the replacement arrived and we left the museum through different entrances.. "We're alone," Katja confirmed from the walkie. Flora from maintenance has already left with her bike, I saw it on camera. I sighed, not knowing what to say yet, and then realized how nervous she was. Not even during the job interview to enter the Rijksmuseum had my heart beat that fast. The four elements are represented by the four seasons, the four seasons representing the four elements, and the four elements representing the four seasons.. It still seemed incredible to me to be able to step on that. "Well, we started the night well. " She said, and I could recognize the sound of the keyboard. Can you go to the Night Watch gallery? I see something strange. Be careful.. I ignored the stained glass windows of the great hall, which that night seemed illuminated by the light of the full moon, and crossed the Gallery of Honor with silent but quick steps.. Before reaching the room, I saw something flickering in one of the corners. The painting, behind a huge fish tank, lit up at times. —I think it's a cell phone. —I approached stealthily and confirmed my suspicions when I saw how the alarm made it vibrate.—. Someone must have lost it. Then I take it to lost and found. —I put the device in my pocket. "Thank goodness," she whispered, and her voice suddenly changed.. Don't you find it ironic that the first strange event since I've worked here took place in this room? You know, the Night Watch, while you and I do the night watch. "It is." I paused to gather the confidence I never felt and steeled myself. And you know what's ironic too? That we haven't seen each other yet. —You are very insistent. -when i want. -Ok. -Okay? —Okay, but I want something first. i want to see more of you. I stared at the gallery camera, which was flashing red. I giggled, half defiant, half hesitant, and thought about how that night could end: making faces, or kissing, maybe.. —Follow me while I show you my world. —How do you want me to follow you? —With the cameras. I retraced my steps through the Gallery of Honor and stopped in front of the landscape of a river with some men on horses.. But it wasn't that painting that interested me. I turned right and pointed to the work in front of me. —Asselijn's threatened swan. —I released the top button of my white shirt, revealing an off-white bra—. Oil on canvas. A swan defends itself against a dog. It's life size, did you know that?

I need your caresses because I suffer from an uncontrollable desire for sweetness. I long for your tender kisses because your lips make me forget everything. I want your touch because it allows me to freeze time. Your caressing hands are the first step of a divine journey. Your pampering is like a drug to me. I'm addicted!

When you meet your first love, the imagination flies. What would have happened if you had continued together? If you had had the opportunity, would you have been freed from one another? Some say that the outstanding accounts always end up settled, in one way or another, so in this erotic story we propose you to imagine how would be that love affair with the guy that you liked so much in youth.

A witch should never be afraid in the darkest forest because she should be sure in her soul that the most terrifying thing in the forest was her.

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According to stories, a witch is usually ugly and terrifying; however, there are a few that make the exception. Dozens of sorceresses, who have committed their misdeeds in the Seventh Art, have provoked the sighs of knights and even the envy of certain women..

All these things of witchcraft come from the carnal passion, which is insatiable in these women. As it is written in the book of Proverbs, There are three things that are insatiable, and four that never say enough: hell, the barren womb, the earth that cannot be sated with water, the fire that never says enough. For us here: the mouth of the vulva. So, to satisfy their desires, they turn to the devils. There's more to say, but to the intelligent, it seems enough to understand that there's nothing surprising about the fact that there are more witches among women than men.. Consequently, this heresy is called not of the witches, but of the witches.

In the fairy's throat was a fairy who tubed a child who could not breastfeed, and took him to a woman of Granollers de Rocacorba who had raised a girl. In gratitude, the fairy gave him a savage skirt.. The woman, despising that present, because he was already at home, threw him into the well of Pedret. When she got home, she noticed that her skirt still had some crumbs left but they were shining brightly.. What the fairy had given him was actually gold..

According to tales, a witch is usually ugly and scary; however, there are a few exceptions. Dozens of witches, who have done their misdeeds in the Seventh Art, have caused the sighs of the knights and even the envy of certain women..