You look from one painting to the next and then point to the one and only sundown. A huge scene of early America it is the end of a long day on a farm. No doubt the entire family has been working from sun up to sun down.
In the foreground stands three massive draft horses harness to the hay baler machine of that era. Near by stands two pair of large horses, they are pulling a flat bed wagons piled high with bales. As you peer ever closer the scen is so real you can almost smell the fresh cut hay and the rich sweaty musk of the horses.
"The early years of American's on the great plains was a time of rich family values. Just looking into the scene one can see their relationship and that happy glow of satisfaction, a job well done by all!" says the lady.
You look over the scene as different items of detail suddenly take your attention. Then you notice that on one of the three big plugs standing all lathered in sweat and plastered with the days dust and chaff sits maybe the daughter of the farm owner.
A girl of her late teens she is slender of figure but oh so well endowed. She sits sideways atop the back of one horse, facing out as if looking directly at you. Her right arm extended she seems to beckon as if one could just walk in the painting and her scene.
An oggle of a look as the scene of seems to change a little from minute by minute. Looking up and down, left to right and back left again the wagons are getting lined up for the long walk home.
"Pretty isn't she!" says the museum lady standing behind you.
"Yes!" you respond at stepping back to get a broader view.
Then you stop and peer closer as the great big horse the lovely girl sits on has his big head turned as if looking at her. His mouth is open and white teeth show as lips spread wide. The girl shows little note of the horse's motion, yet you are taking note of that and the very erect massive shaft hanging below.
Even as you peer and wonder about the scene a curious thought comes to mind. Wondering to yourself if the stallion which the girls sets upon was picking up her warm female scent. Therefore his natural reaction was to become erect and think sexual thoughts, even if his choice of mate was never able to accept his massive self.
Then you see her other hand gripping his mane at the withers. Her face is all lighted up with the moment, even her toes are spread wide apart showing her glee.
It's at that moment when your eyes cast to the erect member wrenched out straight and in an upswing to bonk that dusty and hairy belly. The stallion showing some inbred pinto heritage as his hind quarters remind you of such horses you saw in books. As the stallion's groin is white of hair the color of hide there is pink and not the normal black. His sheath too is pink as the long and outstretched organ is hazed in the dust and dirt clinging to is sweaty skin. You squint at the shaft and then let out a gasp. Peering ever so close you look and blink as the horse's shaft looks to be circumcised?
"A well endowed male, isn't he!" stated the lady who still looked over your shoulder.
"The painting is high in detail and I am in wonder to how it seems to move. Yet the humor of the artist has the stallion with a circumcised male organ and not the usual flat and flared end!" you state as the sudden sound of your questioning such a lurrid and crude part of the scene.
"That happens often, it's due to the impression of a would be's desire to find happiness in the scene! The male portion does not always conform to that of the host. As it is normal for a female to assume the more normal adaption when inserted, and be still remain of knowlege to her new situation!" replies the lady.
At this you turn and stare at her. You take a few steps away and turn to look at the broad view of the great painting hanging on the wall.
"If I understand you correctly, there are people who came to look at the painting that somehow just walked into the scene? Oh and the stallion became a host body for the life and mental substance of the onlooker, are you crazy Lady?" you burst out as the kooky delight of entering the scene seems to welcome you.
"Lonie, the stallion, he accepted to be part of the artist's view and so could you if the desire is real!" offers the lady.
"Are you saying that somehow I can walk into the scene and become as one of the humans or even the horses, maybe as the stallion?" you ask in foolish delight.