The Eroticism of an Art Gallery

While visiting SF Museum of Modern Art, at one point, I was in a spacious and dimly lit hall by myself, not remembering what I saw, listening to the silence (buzzing of electric light crept through), I was aroused all of a sudden, warmed by the combination of colors and the soft light. I took care of myself in the men's room, and nearly burst into tears. Ever since then, I've had a fantasy of boning in an art gallery.