I'm the Kind of Human Wreckage That You Love.

“Oh my gosh! Do you know what this means?!” Gerard exclaimed, rushing through the door after we arrived home.

“What?! What does this mean?!” I replied, matching his enthusiasm.

“I’ll be right back.”

He ran down the hall to a closet at the end. Pulling out a huge canvas, he was smiling like a madman. The look he had on his face was unmistakable. He had a plan, a dark, twisted, wonderful plan. His canvas was long and thin, probably six feet tall and four feet wide with an outline of a woman surrounded by bright colors, I couldn’t make out the pictures yet. He hauled it into the front room, shoved the couch to the far wall, and laid it on the floor. I walked up to the painting on the floor as he flew by me. When he returned he was carrying tubes of paint.

“Don’t worry, they wash off.”

I smiled at him, he was so excited, in more ways than one, if you know what I mean.

“I’m not worried. Not one bit.”

“Good. Take your fucking clothes off then.”

“That wasn’t very sexy.”

“Fine, I’ll do it then.”

He walked over to me with a wily, scheming smile pursed on his lips. He grabbed my top by the collar and pulled me close to him into a kiss. I got goosebumps and he yanked my sweatshirt off. So hard, the hoodie left a red ring around my neck from the force. He cupped my jugular and took a fake vampire bite out of my neck, he added a hungry groan making me laugh. I stumbled back and fell on to the couch. Reaching up I pulled the curtains shut. Gerard, who was standing in front of me, pulled me up, but stepped back to look at me.

“Nope, this just won’t do.” He examined me up and down.

His arm extended to my right collarbone where he began to trace his index finger across to the left collarbone, then down between the middle of my breastplate, then down the center of my torso, forcing me to let out quick, breathless gasps and moans. He could be such a tease and giggled in my torture. When he landed just above my pants, he stepped closer, leaned into kiss me but then suddenly pulled back. Slowly he kissed his way down on to his knees and with his mouth biting the top of my pants, he looked up at me, as if asking permission. I threaded my fingers through his hair and raised my eyebrow at his scandal. In one swift motion, he tore off my pants and throwing them over into the kitchen. I tripped on to the couch again and started hiccuping with laughter. He grabbed my legs from behind my knees and placed them on his shoulders. Gently, he clawed the under side of my thighs, causing me to explode with a tickle-induced cackle. He dragged me onto the floor and then on to the canvas. It was sexy how dominating he was.

“Stay still!” He instructed, placing me in an identical pose of the shadowed woman, but it was going to be close to impossible.

“It tickles, though!” I giggled out.

“No... it’s art! Let’s get started.”

“Hey! You don’t get to stay completely clothed while I lay here half-naked and vulnerable!”

“Fine, fine... I’ll take off my shirt.”

“And your pants.”

“And my pants.”

He did so, leaving him in his boxers, and then proceeded to uncork paints in similar colors to the preexisting ones underneath me. The paint made a fart sound as he squeezed cobalt blue into my bare belly button.

“Haha. Ew...” I howled.

“Shut up.” He sang in annoyance.

“I mean, uh... that was SO sexy.”

“That’s more like it.”

He started to spread the paint, at first, with his fingers and palm, but then he grabbed a paintbrush. To my surprise, he turned it around and began to stencil a design into the even coat of paint on my stomach. I wiped some paint off and spread it under my eyes, like a football player.

“Gotta love a girl in war paint.” He commented.

“Ha, yeah. So what are you doing?”

“I’m camouflaging you into the background of my mind.” He looked up at me with a pretentious smirk.

My breathing was unsteady and my stomach jolted up and down as the paintbrush stroked me.

“Cool.”

“Yep. Cool. Now shut up, I’m concentrating. And stop moving and getting goosebumps”

“Oh, jeezz. Sorry there, Rembrandt.... Not.”

“What did you-”

I flicked paint into his face and it landed on his nose and the corner of his eye.

“Oh no you didn’t!”

“So what if I did?” I challenged. My eyebrow was raised at him, but his gaze soon melted.

“You look so... beautiful right now.”

“I try.”

He grabbed my face and his tongue awaited entry to my mouth. I let him in as he carefully straddled me, avoiding smearing his art. My hand found its way to his cheek and I streaked it with blue.

“We’re going to be here all night if you don’t hurry up.” I reminded him, getting uncomfortable.

“Fine then.”

He started painting again, but he started making faces that were distorted in dissatisfaction.

“You know what?” He said pushing hair out of his face.

“What?”

“Fuck this painting. I have to fuck you right now.”

“What? No! You better not complain about how you didn’t finish tomorrow.”

“I promise, I won’t. How could I complain when I have this between my legs.”

He grabbed my waist, pulling me close to him and bent down for another kiss.

“We’re gonna stain the carpet.” I said breathlessly between kisses.

“Then I’ll buy you a new one.” He said thoughtlessly.

“No, really. Lets move into the bedroom.”

He groaned and sat up, and I just laughed at him, he was so impatient sometimes. I started to stand up, but Gerard stopped me.

“No. I didn’t say you could move.”

“You didn’t say I couldn’t.”

“Well I am now. Don’t move. Don’t talk. Not one sound.”

His dominating side was appearing again, and it was getting me hot... really hot. I smiled up at him in excitement, but he frowned so I stopped.

“Okay, then, woman. Let’s go.” He grabbed my arms above my head and pulled me on my back into the bedroom.

I was kicking my legs and giggling. My back was burning but all I could do was laugh, like the pain was pleasing. Gerard reached the door and backed into the room. He picked me up and hurled me onto the bed. My hand got slammed against the bedframe. I mouthed an expletive and grasped my finger in pain, complying to his rules of silence.

“Oh, shit are you okay?” He laughed out nervously standing at the foot of the bed.

I nodded with a scrunched up, forced smile.

“You’re sure? Okay. Stay still.”

He started up with his tickle-tease, letting his fingers loiter in all sorts of wicked places. He finally got on top of me on the bed, but I wasn’t gonna let him have all the fun. I crawled around and was sitting on his chest with my knees on his arms.

“Oooh. I like this.” He sinfully cooed.

I covered his mouth, leaving a blue hand print. Then I wrote ‘Katmandu Was Here’ on his stomach and drew an arrow pointing to the top of his boxers.

I woke up with bruises the next morning, and I loved it.