From Fat to Phat

|48|Artistic lust

EC·STA·SY

/ˈekstəsē/

1.
an overwhelming feeling of great happiness or joyful excitement.

Jacob stood close enough for me to breathe in his scent. I could feel the heat of his body from behind me. That's how close he stood, his hand on top of my own as he slowly guided my hand showing me how to work a painting brush.

He asked me what I wanted to paint and I had no idea, so he said whatever my hand decided on would do but my hands were so unsteady I had attempted to paint and ocean view and this was my third canvas because the other two looked so hideous and I was just about ready to call it quits. But he offered to help me by letting his on hand guide my own but having to stand this close to me I could barely concentrate on the strokes the brush was leaving behind on my canvas.

He doesn't have a shirt on.
He doesn't have a shirt on.
HE DOESN'T HAVE A SHIRT ON!!!

Was all I could think about although he was standing behind and he could see my face right now I know he could feel the heat my body was emitting. And the look he had on his face when I came back after changing earlier was hard to ignore. How his eyes had lingered on my exposed legs a little longer before he cleared his throat and tried to cover it up by asking if we should get to work but I had already seen the way he looked at me.

"Just like that." He said in a low husky tone. He was referring to the way I had outlined the ocean.

"You getting the hang of it, told you it wasn't that hard." He was letting go of my hand so I could paint on my own.

"Wait-." I quickly said as I looked back at him already feeling cold.

"Why are you letting go?" I asked and I sounded stupid "I mean my hand is still shaky and I would hate to start all over again."

"Ok." He answered as he held my hand again as he continued to help me paint for a few minutes but I needed the color green for the weed leaves I wanted to add to the shore of my painting. He went to get the paint from across the room and when I turned to face him our eyes locked as he walked towards me with a can of green in his hands. My breathing was increasing and the heat I felt my knees felt weak. And the way his eyes dropped to my lips and back to my eyes, was the breaking point, for the both of us.

"Fuck it." He harshly cussed as he carelessly dropped the can of paint on to the floor before he snaked his hands around my waist and he hurriedly kissed me with a sense of urgency. Straight onto my tippy toes as I wrapped my arms around his neck and I stepped back, knocking over the canvas we had been working on the sound of the brushes falling along with the painting board didn't stop us. Moans escaped from my mouth. He had never kissed me like this and it excited me. I continued stepping back and I knocked over a can of blue paint that was opened on the floor and its contents spilled onto the ground and I felt the cold liquid under my feet. I broke the kiss as I looked down to see the liquid quickly spreading onto the floor.

"Oh my-." I didn't get to finish that sentence because Jacob had pulled my face back to face him and he kissed me again not getting a rats ass of the mess I had made. With a laugh he lifted me right off my feet, and I wrapped my legs around his waist. With paint dripping off my feet I was sure it was going to stain his jeans but he didn't seem like he cared; instead he walked over the spilled paint. He was carrying me towards the couch that was behind me. As soon as he sat with me now I was sitting on top of him we stopped kissing. His arms wrap around my back and in one gentle pull our skin touches. I feel his hand in my hair, how he loves the softness, watching it tumble as he releases it. Then his hand moves down my cheekbones to my lips. That's when the kissing starts again and we start to move like partners in a dance that is written in our DNA.