Who Names The Colors

Orpheus and Eurydice

"I've been trying to paint, I'm having just a bit of trouble actually getting color onto a canvas, so I'm out." She bit her lip to stop talking. And Harry reached up to pull the flesh free, stopped just short of touching her, she felt his deft fingers anyway. They looked at each other a moment and Jo felt young and vulnerable.

"What colors were you buying, what are you out of?" Harry asked and Jo couldn't help but look at the can of gold he had in his hand basket. Could you go to heaven in a hand basket? "I'm forever out of gold." His smile was shiny.

"Yellow and blue, for greens," she confessed. "Of course."

He closed his eyes and his smile was pleased pain when he opened them. "Grab it, I'll walk you out."

Jo knew she should say no, beg off, say she had places to be, but she didn't. She didn't want to. So she went over and grabbed her supplies, and a can of gold. Harry smiled down at the belt when he saw it. At the register, their elbows rubbed and her thighs heated. She could hear the sizzle of his skin. The feelings burned brighter.

She followed him out to his van, like he had ambrosia for her to feast on, they always shared a little immortality. He opened the back and set down his paint in the little box he kept there. He hadn't turned back to her. Jo felt the step board under her feet, and the mattress on her bum before she thought enough to stop herself. He looked up at her and the bob of his Adam's Apple and pop crackle of the fire in his eyes charred her flesh. She unbuttoned her blouse and waited for him.

Jo hadn't even waited for the door to close before she popped her hard nipple out of her bra. "It's hot," she moaned.

"You're hot." He crouched to walk to her, she grabbed him by the side of his belt to get her hands on him. Fingers in the flames, mouth dry, she licked her lips when he came to his knees in front of her.

"Jo—"

She stopped him with her mouth on his. She was steaming and her hands danced to his belt and swirled over his bulge, fed on his groan. His shaft bobbed free and she tore her mouth away from the alchemy of their tongues to catch a glimpse.

Apparently, Harry's Jo was a cocksucker. Her dry mouth was wet further by the gathering pearl at his slit. Jo swiped her tongue under his foreskin and memorized the strangled moan he gave her when her hand brought his velvety skin down and up, hiding and revealing his glans from her hungry eyes and avid tongue. His hands were in her hair, pulling down her messy bun, and she missed the mornings when he was too sleepy and horny to stop himself from pushing her down to feel her soft palette.

"Your mouth, baby, please."

Jo gave him a catlike smile, it glinted in her eyes, golden when she watched him watch her lick the heavy ridge under his shaft.

The desperate groans and the push of her head down, the grip on her hair, tighter, all of the moisture in her body was running out of her fount or her lips around his dick.

She had to touch. Jo popped the button on her jeans and got a hand into her cunt. Harry must have heard. His eyes, basically turquoise rimmed abyss by now watched her movement beneath the fabric.

"Jo, I need to smell you."

She whined when he pulled her hand out and put it under his nose, she could feel the suction of his breath, he loved to stick his nose in it, a sommelier of her pussy. When she felt him sucking her fingers into his mouth, she mimicked his moves. His long arm awkwardly between her legs and she rode his hand and sucked his dick until her pants were wet and her thirst was quenched. She licked over his tip and put her head on his thigh to clean him up. He played with her hair, combing out the tresses.