A toasty touch lingered in the elevator between breaths. A slick, green, and clean rod–encircled by mist–breached only by a set of lips, hovered gloriously in her dewy cranial plasma. She leaned forward and then so did she. They jiggled warmly together for a few minutes, chatting about color.
“My favorite color is purple because my fleshy undertones are purple. I think that’s something beautiful and unique to brown skin. My lips especially…they’re very purple, right”?
Lashes meet. Red walks in on her cheeks.
“Yeah, they are actually. A nice grape hue. They’re beautiful”.
Now red visits cheeks just north of the great grape lips. 2 sets of glossy iris’ glimmer at each other. They’re bodies are nude and sparkling with desire.
But alas…they don’t touch.
It’s simply too scary.