Who Names The Colors

Body gold

Jo was sure that the temperature in the room was approaching sauna levels. Either that, or her hair was on fire and she was entirely willing to be burned as long as Harry kept his hand and mouth and body pressed to her. Her back was supported by the skin stretched beneath her and her own felt a little to small as well. Like she needed to shed it so that whatever this was, the way it felt when Harry had his hands on her, that feeling of lightness, of levitation, could really happen and she could fly, higher and higher and hit the atmosphere, or at least the ceiling. But In order to shed her skin she needed to get out of her clothes and she suspected that harry would need to be done with his as well.

Her hands pressed to Harry's chest, beneath the open shirt he must have thrown on to come to the door to have it out with her. Her fingers curled over his deltoids and she tried to push him up to get out of their coverings and he shook his head.

"No, please Jo!" He pulled back to do as he thought she was asking, even though his words were resistant. "I want you, more than anything in my life. Don't you feel me, feel that too?"

Jo looked at him confused for a second. And she watched his face shutter and him shut down.

"Ok." His face pinched like a zippered compartment going closed. "Ok, Jo. I'll go." And he started to pull his body off her and she was entirely confused by what'd  just happened. She wanted to get him and her naked. At this point it was the only thing she could do. Her hands were still hooked around his deltoids, and she dug in her nails until his head came up.

"What?" Jo looked him in the eye then and he looked small, soft. Though his body between her legs proved that untrue in size and shape.

"Jo," he caught her jawline his thumb at her chin. "Do you want me to leave?" Harry was entirely focused on her, his eyes were on hers and then they skittered down to her open mouth, and she tries to cross the distance between their lips, her tongue extended m to get to the plumpness before her. To breach the cavern and lick his teeth, even, only, if he will let her. Leave, why would he leave?

"No! No! I want to undress you! Undress me, please!" Her voice was throaty and had that hitch around his name when she let really herself experience him. Let's his presence wash over her and take her under like a wave. It felt good to surrender, to feel it and tell him so.

Harry must have agreed, his smile was wide and hopeful, "Yeah, Jo, you want me?" He asked. He knew the answer to this question before she even admitted it out loud. But she guessed after the run around she had given him, after her kiss and literal run, and dates, and general mixed signals, he needed verbal consent.

"Yes, Har-Harry," her voice hitched again and he closed his eyes she could feel his pleasure at hearing it radiating off him. "I want you! I want you to kiss me!"

His eyes popped open at this and her green light made him hit the gas like the formula one race they were both in had restarted once consent was established. Harry's questing tongue met her waiting mouth, open and panting his name and it was like their momentum had never slowed. His tongue found that tangle she craved over the last several weeks, that had even replaced his thumb stroking his slit when she fantasized about him. The thumb on her chin made a path down the midline of her body to the meeting of the silky fabric just between her breasts.

"I almost died when I saw this shirt today, I thought.." and he reached beneath the fabric, "fuck, you aren't wearing a bra!" This very idea seemed to exhaust him, he lay his forehead to hers as he circled her already pebbled nipple until it was more peaked that the Rockies and jo knocked his forehead off to shake her head back and forth at overwhelming sensation. He just wouldn't get to her actual nipple, just kept circuiting the areola until she was begging.