Seeing Colors

I have never seen the bright yellows and reds of a sunset. I couldn’t tell you what the color of your eyes are. You see, I suffer from achromatopsia. I am colorblind. Not colorblind the way most people might think: not being able to distinguish between red and green. I inherited my affliction.

Affliction...why that word? It means to be made miserable by, cause problems or badly affect. I haven’t allowed my condition to make me miserable, on the contrary, I have found ways around it.

I have my own way of seeing colors. Heat is red, cold is blue. Warmth on my face from the sun is yellow. The smell of newly cut grass is green. Sadness to me is a deep purple and happiness a bright pink. Black...well nothing is merely black or white for me...I see everything in shades of gray.

I can see better in the darkness than I can during the day. During the day I wear dark, tinted, wraparound sunglasses to protect my vision. I am a photographer. I see through the lens of my camera, and my camera becomes my eyes. My camera sees for me.

Later I look at my pictures to see how I really view the world. Is my view askew compared to others? I don’t believe so. It was on a day when I had my photos, my babies, scattered about me that I first saw him. Tucked away in one of the many moments I had captured that day was a man I had never seen before. How could I not have noticed him?

Sure there were many people I walked past and even took photos of that day. Public Square, right in the heart of downtown Cleveland, is nothing if not crowded. Yet I couldn’t remember seeing him. If I had I might have spoken to him. Not usually shy, I do tend to blend into the background rather than being outspoken. This guy though, I would have given anything to take his picture, and it seemed I had.

There he was in the photo I had taken of a homeless man lying outside the courthouse. I prowl the streets of Cleveland taking photos of the homeless and other street people. I had become such a fixture they barely seemed to notice me.

I used to be afraid of downtown Cleveland. I had started snapping photos of the people in the square, for this wonderful, yet horrible collection I was determined to call “LIFE.” Downtown kept me busy.

*Snap* I captured a destitute man as he dug in a garbage can, producing a half eaten burger. He proceeded to eat the leftover food as if it were a five course meal. *snap* The young teenage hooker propositioning a business man in an expensive suit. *snap* The same business man later that day propositioning a young street male.

*Snap* A beggar laying outside a bar, half beaten with blood coming from the cut on his lip. Blood is always black to me. With all of this going on, how could I not have noticed this man who was so doggedly staring at me through one of my own photos?

It was as if he were the one taking the picture of me, using his eyes as the camera. I was transfixed. I had to find him. I had a sudden desire to snap his photo, over and over again. I wanted to take his picture, and I wanted him naked while I did it.

*********************************************

Figuring out what to wear the next day was the least of my problems. All of my clothes are black. Being teased by my classmates as a child was enough to cure me of trying to dress colorfully. I couldn’t see the colors to match them properly.

I didn’t have a plan, I would simply go back to the courthouse and hang around in hopes of seeing him. I wondered what he would think of me? The strange woman with the dark glasses and camera around her neck. I’m not considered a beautiful girl, a fact made obvious by the number of boyfriends who have passed through my life...exactly three.

I have been called pretty, and worse yet, smart. My hair is probably my claim to fame, long and shiny the color of honey- or so I have been told. I spent most of my high school years in front of my bedroom mirror pumping my arms back and forth.

My high school mantra was “I must, I must, I must increase my bust.” I have always been on the thin side. What I lack in cosmetic beauty I like to think I make up for in personality.

I had just started snapping pictures of a couple leaving the courthouse. They were in broad daylight shouting at one another while the female dragged a child of around five years old after her. *snap* They were definitely going into my “LIFE” project.

I felt him before I saw him. I knew for certain it was him when he came closer. Damn, but he was beautiful. Structured cheek bones, strong jaw with eyes that I could only imagine were...I didn’t have a color for the way his eyes made me feel. He walked with a saunter as though he knew exactly how handsome he was.

“Hello” he said.

“Hello back at ya.” was the best I could manage. My eloquence surprised

me. I wasn’t usually this nervous. Something about him, I couldn’t think of anything but how he would look naked. I wanted this man, more than I had ever wanted anyone in my life. Was I losing my mind?

“I’ve been watching you take pictures.” he said and smiled.

“And?” I asked.

“And” he said, handing me a business card “I want you to take mine.”

He turned and walked away. I couldn’t look at the card dangling in my hand, I was too busy watching the way he looked from behind. Finally, looking at the card I expected the normal suit and tie type jargon. The card simply stated his name and address. There written in red pen was a note, it said “Meet me at 8pm tonight.”

How presumptuous was he? Did he think he could just walk up, shove a card into my hand and demand my presence? As if taking pictures wasn’t an art, but simply a job. He probably thought I would jump at the chance to be with him. The arrogance, the complete gall of him...I wondered if I had anything to wear? Hurrying home I would have just enough time to wash my hair.

I had spent hours, days, weeks walking through Cleveland snapping photos. Always I was looking for the picture that would complete my project. I finally had that picture in my minds eye...and his name was Luke.

**********************************************

He lived in a small house across the street from a school that had burnt down years before. He answered the door with a glass of wine in his hand and ushered me in. Wrapped in a cloud of his cologne, I had made up my mind...with this man I wanted to see colors.

The front room was dimly lit with candle light. “I can tell bright lights bother you.” he said simply. I felt as though he had walked through my soul and wrapped his hand gently around my heart. I don’t remember everything we said to one another, but as the night wore on I felt as though we were old friends. Now I wanted to be lovers.

I brought my camera up and started snapping his photo. Shyly I asked him to take off his shirt. There is a certain intimacy nakedness brings to a photo. I couldn’t believe how strong and handsome he looked. I felt as though I could take his picture over and over and every time feel the wetness and warmth that was steadily rising through every part of my body.

Before I knew what was happening...he had my camera and began taking pictures of me. The flash was enough to make me wince. I tried to reach out to grab the camera, ask him to stop, I wasn’t used to being on this side of the flash.

“You’re beautiful you know?” he asked. Was he serious? I couldn’t remember the last time I had been told I was beautiful. “Let me see your camera” he said.

“ok” I said not understanding what he wanted it for.

I brought it to him and watched amazed at his ease with it, “You know a thing or two about cameras?” I asked.

“I dabble,” he said followed by a little laugh. “As a matter of fact, I have taken your picture.”

“What?” I asked, wondering when he possibly could have taken my photo.

“Would you like to see them?” He didn’t have to ask twice.

I sat on the couch as he disappeared and reappeared back into the front room, pictures in hand. He spread them out on the table and turned on a lamp so I could see them. “Dabble?” I asked, impressed. “These are great.”

“You like them?” he asked.

“Like them?” I smiled, “I love them...I look beautiful in them.” I leaned closer to him and felt his hand slip into mine. Leaning in towards me he whispered in my ear, “The camera doesn’t lie.”

With that he leaned in for a kiss. Our lips touched ever so briefly and he pulled away. “Now,” he said, “I take your picture.”

“Wait, I thought you wanted me to take your picture?” I asked.

He flashed the camera and I was blinded for a moment as I felt his hand slide onto my thigh. It was as if all the feelings I had ever known were bunched up beneath my skin. The moment he touched me I knew my body would explode with feeling. With every want and need I had my entire life.

His face drew near and when his mouth parted I eagerly thrust my tongue inside. A sensation of wetness and heat filled me. I felt his arms wrap around me tightly and he pressed up against my breasts. I could hear his breath quicken, become heavy, labored. *Flash*, he had snapped my photo again. I began to protest, saying “no” but wanting him to continue.

We began taking off each other’s clothes. I felt sparks of desire wherever our skin touched. His hand cupped my breast and I once again started to protest, but there was no turning back. We positioned ourselves on the floor in front of the couch.

I heard the click of my camera as he flashed my photo over and over again. The combination of my blindness and the feeling of his hands running across my body was enough to make crazy. He began rolling my nipples between his fingers. I didn’t think they could get much harder, but his touch proved me wrong. His hand reached down and found the spot of my body that was wet with desire. His finger slipped inside as my wetness enclosed around it.

He laughed, finding me so wet and ready for his probing fingers. “You’re hot aren’t you? You want more baby?” he asked. “Yes,” I whispered into his mouth, agreeing with him. I wanted him, hard, fast, slow, any way at all. Without removing his finger he fastened his mouth on mine firmly, devouring me. He pushed me gently backwards on the rug.

“Wait right here baby,” he said as he crawled on all fours to the side of the couch. “I have a surprise for you.” Crawling back towards me I saw in his hand something I longed-for, but was always too embarrassed to buy.

The dildo was red, my favorite color and lifelike in that it was the actual shape of a hard cock. I was already juiced up from his finger having been inside me. Now I couldn’t wait for him to ram that cock in its place.

The look on his face told me I wouldn’t have to ask. He was just as anxious as I was to plunge that joystick deep inside of me. He looked at me as he began to run the tip of the dildo up and down my inner thighs. The thing looked huge, but I was resolute about taking as much of it as I could.

Spreading my legs as wide as I could he started gently inserting the cock into my opening. Usually not a big talker during sex I knew I would have to speak up to get it the why I wanted. Ardently grabbing his hair I told him, “I want you to fuck me hard!”

I could hear him as he granted my request. “I’ll fuck you hard baby!” His rhythm increasing I felt myself bucking my ass into the air with equal pressure. I was determined to take it all.

His thrusts increased and I found myself near to tears with the sheer agony of pleasure he was giving me. He was pumping me harder and harder, and I thought I would come right then and there, when he abruptly pulled it out of me.

Before I could catch my breath he was lifting me by my ass, a cheek in each hand and I felt his hot, talented tongue on my clit. I have been tongue fucked before, but he had it down to an art. Any hesitation I might have felt initially, instantly left me with a low moan of pleasure.

I didn’t think about what was right or wrong. I lay still, closed my eyes and gave myself up to physical sensation. Seeing his handsome face buried in my soaked crotch was enough to make me cum right there. He pushed his face harder and harder against me as his tongue went even deeper inside of me.

My body shuddered as I felt myself coming closer and closer to a much-wanted wet and warm orgasm. “No...no...oh yes..” My denial no longer viable as he found a hard, driving rhythm that satisfied us both. My cunt quivered as his tongue darted back and forth across my clit.

He inserted his finger deep inside of me thrusting it in and out as he attacked my sex orally. He reached up with his other hand pinching my nipples, which were aching to be touched again. Ecstasy and pain intermingled as it shot through my body.

I lost all sense of time and place, of everything as he drove his tongue into me. Plunging deeper inside of me I could hear myself whispering “harder, harder please.” begging her to take me wantonly. I pushed myself against him trying to get all of me in his mouth as he teased on.

“Tell me what you want,” he managed to say between his assaults on my clit.

“You know what I want,” I said amid breaths

“Say it.”

“Please”

“How?”

“Hard!” I begged.

He licked and sucked my clit as I endeavored to hold out as long as possible. He reached around teasing my asshole with his finger, gently slipping it inside and with one final thrust, drove me over the brink into a fierce all consuming orgasm. I groaned as my body sizzled and melted into the most intense orgasm, and for the first time in my life I screamed as I actually saw colors.

I lay still as he looked at me with those ever appraising eyes and stated simply, “Now it’s my turn.”

I wanted to taste him, to feel his juice trail over my tongue. Tentatively flicking my tongue on his cock I could hear groans of pleasure escaping from his throat. Usually quite reserved, I am not sure what came over me. Maybe it was the way he was squirming and wriggling beneath my fingertips or the way he kept moaning the words “yes, yes, please don’t stop!”

Whatever it was, I let go of any inhibitions I may have been carrying around and found myself sucking his cock with a fervor. His sweet fluids running down the sides of my mouth, the sweltering heat emanating from his hot organ, was making me long to have him between my legs. I knew he couldn’t hold out much longer.

I trailed my finger in the spot between his balls and his asshole as I sucked harder and harder. He began wriggling out of my grasp and I grabbed him tighter. Burying myself between his legs I began to give gentle bites to the area surrounding the tip of his cock. He was quivering and I could tell he was almost ready to come.

I grabbed the camera and began to take his photo as he grasped his cock in his hand and began pumping it up and down. He then put the tip of his cock between my legs and o slightly my hole closed around it. We began a dance of back and forth movement. Him pushing inside of me, and me meeting every thrust with one of my own.

Finally I felt his body shudder and become still beneath me. That is when I heard him say “Wow...that was great.” I snuggled up against him and felt him wrap his arms around me tightly. We lay there wrapped in each other’s arms, the aroma of sex tingling our nostrils, and I could already feel myself becoming aroused again.

We took turns taking each others pictures in every pose we could imagine. I only had one thing to say to Luke, after an experience like that. “Want to do that again?” I asked, smiling. I could feel my juices running as he shook his head in the affirmative and grasped my face pulling me in for a kiss.

“You’re beautiful” he said again. The camera never lies.

The End