Red part 18

18: Sparks

A few nights later, I was in the studio, putting the finishing touches on a painting I was doing. James was sitting on the bed in the corner, watching my every move.

“So, what is it you’re painting exactly?” he asked.

“Just an abstract thing. Riffing on a brain wave I had this morning. Do you like it?”

“Yeah, I quite like it. I like your brainwaves, they’re exquisite and beautiful.”

“Thank you. Shame I’m getting so sticky though.”

“You can always take off your clothes.”

“Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” I said, whilst he giggled quietly.

“I got a question for you. Do you ever paint naked?”

“Can’t say I have. Why?”

“Just curious. Would you ever try it?”

“I wouldn’t object to it. Why do you ask? Oh, I get it, you want me to get naked, don’t you, you cheeky sod?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it! Come on. Get naked and get dirty for me.”

“Alright. But only if you do so too.”

“Fair enough.” he said. He stood up from the bed and started stripping off, in his stupendously efficient style. Meanwhile, I did the same, placing my clothes on the bed.

Naked James walked over to my easel and studied the abstract brain wave painting from close-by.

“It’s a cunt, isn’t it?” he said suddenly.

“A cunt? Why would I paint a cunt? Why would my abstract brain wave be about a cunt?”

“Well, I thought about it. These lines here are the cunt itself.” he explained, tracing the lines with his fingers. He was smearing out the paint a bit, but it added to the painting.

“And these lines and colors are the energy it expels when the woman is aroused or heading towards orgasm. I think it’s beautiful, because it’s the essence of a woman’s most private part captured in a picture and a wonderful ode to something that gives a woman so much pleasure. Have I got it right?”

I was silent. I found his explanation so compelling. And I saw it too. Indeed, embarrassingly enough, I had painted an abstract cunt. It was a stupid little nothing I had in my mind early that morning, and I felt compelled to hate it. But in his eyes, it was beautiful.

Suddenly, I felt him touch my nose with a finger full of paint. He was grinning when I looked at him.

“Sorry. I just wanted to see your reaction. Your nose is now red, by the way.”

“You loon!” I cried out. I would not stand for this, so I took a tube of blue paint and squirted it on him.

“Oi! I’m going to get you, you cheeky mare!” he said, taking a tube of red paint in his hands.

“Only if you catch me!” I cried out, and bolted to the other side of the studio. He chased me, and eventually pinned me down on the bed, where he squirted the paint on my naked body. He used his hands to cover me in the stuff, and I, in turn, smeared out the blue paint. I eventually escaped from his claws and ran away again. He took a tube of yellow paint and chased me with it, eventually pinning me down again. He squirted the paint all over me, rubbing it in.

There was something so intensely erotic about this situation. The feeling of his hands on my paint-covered skin was a feeling I had come to constantly crave. He was the ultimate aphrodisiac, never failing to turn me on.

I felt pure adrenalin course through me, taking control. I took his hands in mine and raised them above his head. He understood the hint and pulled me in for a kiss. His lips were so delicious and soft against mine. I enjoyed the feeling of his warm tongue and I could feel every defence I had left melting away.

Oh God, I wanted to fuck him so bad.

And it appeared he wanted the same, since I could feel his erection pressing urgently against me. He moaned into my mouth and pulled away to whisper in my ear.

“I want you, Reed. I can’t stand this ache anymore. I’m ready. Are you?”

“Shut the fuck up and carry me to the bed so we can fuck like dirty dogs.” I said, pulling him back into the kiss and devouring his mouth.

“If you’re not careful, you’re going to make me come with that filthy mouth of yours.” he said in that low and growly voice that meant he was supremely aroused. He picked me up in his strong arms and carried me to the paint-stained bed. He threw me down on it, and I yelped from the impact with the bed.

He crawled on top of me, smearing more paint on the duvet and covering me in a blue hue. He kissed my neck and I let out a squeal when he took a bit of flesh in his mouth and sucked hard. That was going to leave a dirty love bite in the morning

“You’re mine now. A marked woman.” he announced with an evil grin. He lowered himself on to me and pressed his intoxicating lips to mine. His probing tongue found mine.

If ever there was a more genuine man than James, I wouldn’t want to know it. He was everything I ever longed for, intelligent, witty, a big joker and hot as hell.

His cock strained against my thigh. I could feel little drips of pre-cum dripping down on my leg. His body felt so warm and wonderful. He was like a drug, getting me so delightfully high.

“P..p…protection?” I stuttered, when he pulled away.

“What?”

“Do you have condoms? Oh, wait, I have condoms! Yes, condoms, very important, mustn’t carry on without condoms!”

“Calm down!” he laughed. “Don’t be nervous. Where are your condoms?”

“Top drawer.”

He pulled back and hovered over me, as he took a condom out of the box in the top drawer. I watched, as he took his impressive cock into his hand and expertly sheathed it, never taking his eyes off me. There was something about his precise movements that was fascinating.

He caught me looking at him and smiled. I couldn’t help but smile back. In that moment, I felt such a deep connection with him that it took my breath away.

He came back towards me, and, as if by magic, I felt my thighs fall open, a response to his proximity. He kissed me again, and knocked my legs open even more with his knees. I could feel his left hand slipping down my body and tracing the my wet slit. The paint was everywhere, even in my hair, but I couldn’t care less.

He slipped a finger between my lips and started petting my clit.

“Don’t, James.” I said, taking his hand and moving it away from my pussy.

“Oh? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.. just.. please… please fuck me, Sir.”

He gave me an odd look, and I realised what I had said. The penny dropped with him and, to my surprise, he understood why I said it.

“You don’t need to beg and you definitely don’t need to call me Sir. You’re free, Alice Reed. Slave to no-one. And I really hope…”

I could feel his cock nudging at my wet entrance. I rose just enough to let him slip in.

“That I can make you smile with this.”

He slipped in deep, and I let out a gasp. “Oh fuck.”

He lowered himself, and sank his teeth into my neck. He gently bit down, while he fucked me, thrusting deep into me and nibbling on the soft flesh. I wanted to say something, but all that came out was a faint whimper. I could feel his hard angles rubbing against my clit, which sent sparks through my body. Ever little nerve ending was crying out for more.

I wrapped my legs around him, pushing him in even deeper, which made me gasp a loud “Holy fucking shit, you’re so big!”

“Dirty, filthy mouth… I like it!” he growled, thrusting faster, rotating his hips, nibbling my neck, whispering a stream of absolute filth in my ear that I could only half make out…

The words soon became one long sentence, and the sentence became one long moan, as I clawed my fingers into his back and raked them all the way to his perfect, blue-paint-stained arse. His breath caught in his throat.

“Oh God, right there.” he grunted through his teeth. “Right there.”

He made a noise, a deep, primal noise that managed to scare the shit out of me. He was breathing faster, moving faster, biting down on the soft flesh of my shoulder. I could feel his hands roam over my body, paint getting everywhere.

“Jesus, Reed, I think I’m… coming!” he cried out, straining to hold out just a bit longer. He gripped me tight and gave an almighty thrust, one which nearly knocked me against the head of the bed. I felt my body warm up to a fever and the pleasure flowed freely through me.

“Me.. me… me first!” I cried out. The orgasm that followed was incredibly powerful.

“Oh God, I can feel you coming!” he whispered. His jaw went taut and his muscles tight. He let go, growling deep in his throat and spurting his hot seed into the condom. He cried out my name, and it sounded like music. And for the hundredth time, I fell in love with him.

****

He on the left. I on the right. My leg over his, my brown eyes looking into his beautiful blues.

There was no need for words. Only touches, smiles and giggles. It was like we were speaking in code to each other.

Eventually, he did speak. “Reed?”

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

At first it didn’t register with me. I thought he was just saying it as a throw-away remark.

But then I saw the look in his eyes. The smile on his face, a smile that only a man living in a world of utter bliss and love can have.

I had to say something.

“I…I…”

“Yes?”

“I need a shower.” I blurted out. Fuck. I couldn’t even say the words. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He smiled, seemingly unfazed by my incapability to say it back.

“Come on. Let’s get lathered up.” he said. 

“Wait… I can’t say it.”

“What?”

“Those words. I can’t say them yet.” 

“Let’s get lathered up?”

“No, you loon, the other words.”

“I know. It’s ok. Whenever you’re ready. Just know that I feel that way about you.”

I smiled at him. But cursed myself. I hated that I couldn’t say it back.

“I’m glad I made you smile. It enchants me.” he said, tracing my lips with his fingers. “Now, let’s shower.”

***

We held each other, standing under the hot stream of water. Every nerve ending was on edge, because of his proximity. The paint ran down our bodies and two colors met before running down the drain. My head against his big, broad chest, listening to his heartbeat. Bliss.

So why couldn’t I say the three words I longed to say?

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2 Comments

  1. dererzahlernc

     /  September 14, 2011

    Thanks for sharing, I really enjoyed the story. I am going to have to look over the rest of your blog for more later.

    Reply
    • Hi! Thanks for visiting my blog. If you want to read the whole story, just click on the tag “Red ” in the tag cloud. Or the “live writing” one. Shall have to check out your blog later!

      Reply

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