colorslashmotion-deactivated201:

There was this boy named Kyle. Gorgeous redhead, total knockout. He was a photography boy, modeling for and running a school project of his, and he wanted it to be somewhat fantastical. Call in the boy with the body paint and lighting strips!

So I come over to his house the day before to try out a few designs and to see where we are. Kyle’s in his underwear, I’ve got my hands all over his body, and I’m thinking ‘yeah momma’ to myself when he starts hardcore flirting with me. You know, flexing his abs or arms as I’m painting them, asking how I like his ass and to go ahead and feel him up because the entire body is important (wink), and so on. Eventually it gets to the point where he’s lifting up my shirt and sliding his hands under it, getting paint all over my stomach, sides, and back, while I’m smearing green lines on his cheeks, and I say ‘screw it’ to myself and go in for a kiss.

We end up naked on the floor, with him blowing me and me turning his hair green from the rest of the paint on my hands. Paint is all over the sheets I’ve set up, there’s the imprint of Kyle’s body on the floor with clear prints of my legs and feet on either side and obvious back-and-forth motion, there’s paint in intimate areas and down my thighs and in claw marks across his back, we’re getting back up to go clean up and continue this in his bedroom, and then his mother walks in. She sees the paint everywhere, clearly sees what we’ve been up to in gory detail (it’s like reading animal tracks here), covers her eyes, says that we’d better ‘clean off that paint before it, um, sticks to… um’, and gets out of there.

Don’t fucking fuck when you’re covered in paint.