He was staring intently at the large Rothko in front of him, his cock hard with rage, grabbing it like holding onto a marble countertop.
“That’s not art,” he mumbled to himself in the middle of the gallery as he stroked his dick with righteous fury. The other patrons backed away and called for security.
“My kid could make that,” he moaned, as he shot his load all over a nearby Pollock.
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