The Color of Hunger

He turned the key until he heard the click of the lock turning over and pushed the front door open. The entire house was dark, which was particularly odd because his girlfriend was usually up later than him on most nights. He kicked off his shoes near the door, dropped a bag of materials he had bought earlier in the night down on the kitchen floor, and laid his keys down on the cupboard with a clanking noise as the steel hit the tiled surface. Glancing at the clock, his jaw dropped.

"Shit, she's going to be pissed."

The digital clock on the coffeemaker read 4:15 in its neon blue color. He had no idea how it had gotten to be so late; he had been at his friend's house hanging out, drinking, and shooting the shit and thought he was actually returning home at a fairly early hour. No wonder his girlfriend had already went up to bed. However, coming home later than he had planned wasn't going to ruin the plans he had coursing through his head and had deliberated specifically for tonight.

He walked into the bathroom and turned on the hot water full blast and mixed it just a little bit with the cold and watched the steam from the water immediately start to fill the room. After undressing, he left the small pile of clothes at the door and brushed his teeth while he waited for the water to adjust to the right temperature; it always took a few minutes from the time he turned the water on for it to actually decide how much hot and cold water it was going to let through.

Returning the toothbrush to its place, he smiled broadly in the mirror, turned around, and stepped into the sweltering hot water. Watching his body turn from an unnaturally pale white to lobster-like red, he took deep breaths of the moisture into his lungs and closed his eyes, relaxing in the warmth before guiding soap over his body. He made sure to get to every crevice of his body, keeping in mind that after when finishing up the plans he had thought through for the night, anything could happen; and probably would.

He rinsed the soapy lather from his body and ran his face under the water once more before turning the knobs of the faucet, halting the water, and stepped out. Wrapping a towel around his lower half, he opened up the sides of the mirror where the basic bathroom toiletries were laid out on shelves hidden behind it. He rolled the deodorant onto himself and picked up cologne he had noted a few times that his girlfriend commented on every time he wore it.

"Scent of Seduction -- I guess the name is to be taken literally", he thought to himself with a low chuckle.

He put on a pair of white boxer briefs before walking out of the bathroom and into the kitchen. Picking up the bag of supplies he had bought for the night and rummaged through it. He pulled a heavy roll of plain white paper from the bag and unrolled it onto the floor into a single sheet covering the floor in its entirety. He then grabbed the bag and sat it in the direct center of the paper and unloaded four large candles from the inside and placed them at either corner. He lit the candles with a lighter he pulled from a pocket of the jeans he had left on the floor after undressing, before placing the pile in the hamper. He grabbed a clean washcloth from the stack of clean laundry that was sitting on a table and had yet to be put away and soaked it with lukewarm water, squeezed out the excess water, and carried it with him.

Rather pleased with himself, he eagerly ascended the staircase to the second level of the apartment, where his girlfriend laid sleeping. He walked over to the immediate left of their Queen-size bed and looked down at the woman almost completely covered in blankets, with just a slightly oval face crowned with twisted and tangled strands of hair laying every which as a product of hours of sleep, and a single arm visible as her chest rose and fell rhythmically. She looked so peaceful, almost angelic, and he thought that it would be a sin to wake her. He sat at the edge of the bed beside her, and it was as if he were looking at her for the first time again. He noticed all of the intricate details of her face that he had certainly been overlooking for the year that they had lived together. He suddenly saw every birthmark, every freckle that was scattered over her complexion. Even though he was beginning to go into overdrive with emotion, he knew that it would be a greater sin not to wake her, even in the truly beautiful state she was in at the moment.

He reached down and lightly, barely touching her at all, ran the side of his index finger over her forehead and underneath the few strands of lost dark hair that hung over her face, sweeping them to the other side of her head and watched them fall lazily to the side she was laying on. She didn't stir in the least, so he unraveled the balled up washcloth from the palm of his hand and folded it in half before lowering it onto her forehead and guiding it across her head and down onto her cheek. Moving the blankets down her body, he ran the cool cloth over her neck and down to her chest, as low as he was allowed, before meeting with her shirt. Her eyes fluttered, alerting him that she was slowly waking from sleep. To be sure not to rush into anything, he kept the same pace and moved it slowly from where he had left off and back up to her forehead. He pressed the material to her head firmly, sending a small amount of cold water that had been squeezed from the cloth to meet with her skin and watched the few drops fall from her and onto the fabric of the pillow that laid beneath her.

She lazily lifted one eyelid and after a brief moment of sleepy eyes refocusing and making out objects in the darkness that filled the room, gave a small smile and stretched before sitting up in the bed.

"What time is it?" She asked, looking beside her to the alarm clock before waiting for him to reply.

"It's late. I didn't realize how late it had gotten before I left, I'm sorry." He took the cool washcloth from her forehead and set it on the nightstand beside the bed.

She rubbed her eyes and stretched her arms out once more before letting out a yawn and letting herself fall backwards into the bed, her head landing, once again, on the pillows behind her.

"It's fine. Are you coming to bed?"

"Well..." he started, with a faint smile and leaned in to give her a quick peck on her cheek before finishing his thought. "I actually hadn't planned on going to bed for a little bit. We should do something together, I missed you."

"I missed you, too. However, it's the middle of the night and I'm exhausted. Besides, what would you suggest we do at 4:30 in the morning?"

"I have an idea." He said matter-of-factly and uncovered her body completely, lowering the blankets to the bottom of the bed.

She remained on the bed, dressed in an oversized T-shirt and a pair of panties, still rubbing the sleep out of her eyes and trying to wake up against her body's will.

He leaned down and scooped her up in his arms. She immediately swung her arms around his neck, skittishness consuming her body from the sudden, rapid movement from the bed and into the arms of her lover.

"What are you doing? Put me down. Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise, you'll see." Was all he could answer with, as he involuntarily laughed, chuckles interrupting the middle of the syllables, at her weariness.

He descended the staircase, still holding her as her arms clasped around his neck. By the time they had made it halfway down the stairs she noticed flickering lights bouncing off the walls, giving faint light to the otherwise pitch-dark room. She tried craning her neck around in order to get glimpses of the rest of the kitchen that was coming more and more into view with every step he walked down, but to no avail. As they came to the landing, he carried her right over to the center of the kitchen floor where he had set up the bare minimum of his plan, as to not give too much away by first glance.

He set her down, her feet touching upon the floor and her eyes immediately widening, trying to take in everything she could, in case she had someone missed something.

"What is all of this?" She asked, looking up at him.

He smiled, lowering himself to his knees beside the large sheet of white paper. Looking up at her, he patted the empty space of kitchen floor directly in front of him, motioning for her to join him.

As she sat in front of him, his arms immediately lunged forward and grabbed hold of the cotton fabric clothing her body. He lifted the bottom of the shirt upwards until she raised her arms in the air and he could easily slip the material off of her. He spread his legs around her and put his feet in her lap as he lowered his head to gently kiss on the crevice between her neck and shoulder. She gave a light moan as his hands caressed her shoulders and began to rub the tense knots from them as the candlelight laying at all four corners of the paper bounced off of them, onto the walls, and back.

"So what is all of this for?" She asked.

"Shh. You don't want to ruin it."

She looked up at him and smiled and returned her head forward, enjoying every gentle touch, stroke, and rub he was applying to her body.

He worked at relaxing her entire body with his hands and laying quick kisses along where his hands had been. When he was sure she felt completely at ease, he got up and walked over to the bag that was still lying in the center of the paper.

"We have red." He began, lifting a jar of fire engine red paint out of the bag and opened the container before setting it down in front of him as her face contorted into a look of wonder and confusion as she watched his every move.

"Yellow," he went on. "Green and purple. Then of course we'll be sure to get other colors by mixing those." He looked over to her, but the same bewildered look was on her face.

"We're going to paint? Right now?" She asked.

"You'll see."

Smiling, he grabbed the four thick paintbrushes he had also picked up on his journey that day and tossed the bag in the other room, out of their way.

"Stand up." He walked over to her, took both of her hands in his and helped her up off the floor.

"Stand here, right in the center."

She complied, although a bit haltingly. While standing directly in front of him, he leaned down and tugged on her panties, freeing them from her waist until they eventually fell to the ground. He kicked them off and out of the room along with the underwear he had been wearing.

Before lifting anything from the paper, he got as close as he could to her and lifted her chin so he could look into her eyes. She smiled and not being able to help himself, he leaned his head down and pressed his lips against hers. He caressed her cheek and let his hand lie behind her neck, which he supported as she leaned up to kiss him.

When their kiss broke, he leaned down and picked up a paintbrush and dipped the bristles in their entirety into the red paint.

"You look amazing in red, you know." He said with a smile as he brought the brush up to her and traced her right breast down, under, and back up again leaving a smear of bright red paint.

She shivered as the cold paint touched her flesh. Immediate chills shot through her and she looked up into his vibrant blue eyes and smiled broadly.

He handed her a brush, but she scoffed and walked over to the jar of green paint. She dipped all of her fingers into the silky, wet liquid one by one. He approached her and she left five little fingerprints on his chest. He dropped the brush he was holding onto the paper under them and did the same she had done in the yellow paint and picked the jar up with his other hand and poured a small amount onto his hand and brought his hand down in one fell swoop to her ass, which clenched with the impact, and was left with a large yellow print on the left cheek.

They started laughing giddily, which turned into uncontrollably, as they began to make a mess of the paint as it started to spot the paper surrounding them and landing in a rainbow of colors all over their bodies.

They lay down on the paper, partly of exhaustion as well as it obviously being there for the reason in which they were using it, although he had planned for a more romantic ending.

Both trying to catch their breath, they slowly rolled over the paper as well as on top of each other quite a few times. Stopping suddenly, he grabbed a paintbrush that was still lying around and began tracing the bristles over her body, paying special attention to her breasts as he circled the areolas repeatedly until both nipples became extremely hard. Her breathing started to quicken and he noticed it was also becoming much deeper. Smiling, he kept up the teasing and worked the brush down the center of her stomach, stopping at her belly button for a bit until she started squirming and letting out slight, but high pitched squeals in response to being ticklish.

Moving her legs to each side, he climbed between them and laid on his stomach to have better access. He traced the bristles across her in teasing patterns and kissed up her stomach, to her breasts and licked between them before moving to the right and covering her nipple with his mouth. She took quicker breaths and leaned her head back as his tongue encircled the skin, still hardening more in his mouth. He sucked on it, let it pop out through his lips and repeated the action on the other. He left a trail of small kisses back down her body, the paintbrush following until he reached her mound.

Sliding down, he spread her legs out as far as she was able and she leaned her head up and closed her eyes tight, restlessness starting to play a part within her.

"You are absolutely gorgeous." He said, looking at her body and moving his head forward and quickly touching the edge of his tongue to her clit.

She let out a yelp, unlike anything he had ever heard from her before. That alone was enough to send a surge of electricity through him. He started from the tip of her clit and licked straight down to taste the delectably sweet juices she was producing. As she moaned for him to keep going, he moved his hands under her ass and lifted her up enough to lick her ass. The moans got louder, and as he continued licking her clit, he picked up the paintbrush again and traced the outline of her pussy with the stick. With one more quick dash of his tongue over her to collect her juices on his tongue, he inserted the handle up and into her.

It only took a few times of easily moving it out and then deeply back in before he picked up pace and she was screaming for him to let her cum. He withdrew the piece of finished, manufactured wood from her and set it down beside them. He then moved up her body, touching and tugging at her flesh as he did until he was up with her face again. She was flushed red mixed with an array of drying paint. He leaned down and kissed her deeply and kissed his way to her ear and whispered "You're going to do something for me now."

Her eyes grew wide and he swore he saw a twinkle flash in them as he threw his leg over her body and onto her other side. He lowered his hand to his already hard dick and began to slowly stroke it as he kept his eyes on her, and she not being able to tear herself away from him. He moved his body up a few more centimeters and pressed himself up against her lips. She smiled and immediately opened her mouth, taking the tip of him in her mouth. She gave it a few slight sucks before he shoved his entire length into her and down her throat, making her gag. He took himself out of her long enough for her to gain composure over herself and then repeated the same action. She became a little better with every time he forced himself into her.

By the time she had thick saliva coating her face and dripping from her chin, he pulled out of her and lined himself up with her entrance. He pulled her legs up onto his shoulders and the minute he pushed into her, she began to scream, sending herself into a wild orgasm. Not being able to tack the sudden electricity of friction, he came as soon as she was recovering, pulling out of her and shooting a small pool of white, cloudy liquid onto her breasts.

He reached out to her, swirling his right middle finger in the liquid he had just produced. After attaining a desired amount, he lifted his finger to her mouth and wiped it along her lips, as if it were lip balm.

They both got up off of the floor and looked down at the paper.

"We've created art, honey, you see it?" He asked her, kissing the top of her head.

"It's beautiful." She said, as she looked down and saw smears, splatters, swirls, handprints, and other painted shapes in various sizes decorating the piece of paper that had been completely blank just a few hours ago.

He put his hand on her lower back and ushered her into the bathroom.

He turned the water of the shower on, for the second time that night. After getting the water temperature right they both stepped in. They washed the dried paint off of one another and he held her in his arms as the water poured down upon them.

They walked into the kitchen and grabbed either side of their newly made art. Together, they carried it into the living room and put it against the empty wall and tacked it up. They both stood back to admire their work.

"It really does look great here." She said, smiling over at him. "It's absolutely breathtaking."

"I agree, but only because we made it together."

"We need to sign it." Grabbing a pen, she walked over to the piece of paper and in the lower right hand corner wrote Valentine's Day, 2007.