Day Thirteen: 4/17/18
Era: Dream Factory
Barefoot.
She sits barefoot and Indian style in the center of the room. The loud musicalities of Prince and his self proclaimed Revolution fill the room, as well as fuel her creative inspirations. The words of Dream Factory hit her in her chest. She can relate. She can relate to it all.
"Cleo!"
That's her name. Her name is Cleopatra. Though she was never fond of the queen herself, her mother emulated every possible detail of the woman that she had the ability. Cleo and her mother never saw eye to eye anyway. That would probably be the reason they have not spoken in an entire decade.
"In here!"
Her boyfriend walks down the long hallway of their Galpin Blvd. home that they share between the two. They'd began dating two years ago before they broke up six months ago. They got back together one month ago and he did everything in his power to get her as close as possible, including, moving her in.
Prince stands at the door, fully dressed from head to toe. "What are you doing?"
"Painting the perfect picture."
He chuckles, walking into the room a little more than he already was. He knows the woman of his life is talented. On their first date, he took her out to eat. As they ate, she was drawing on a napkin. The entire date, her pen stayed on the napkin. At the end, when he took her home, they stood at her front door talking for a little bit. Prince began to doubt himself. He thought he was being boring. He thought she was born into the napkin than him. That was until she hands him the special napkin that she was drawing on all night long.
It had his face on it.
She'd drawn him and every single detail of his face. The details happened to be purely precise. Prince in his life had never seen anything like it. The workings of Cleo were something brand new. They were the beginning to endless talent that will be in his life forever. She ended up painting his album cover for his seventh album. She'd done it all by herself and that made him love it even more.
"What would you call the perfect picture?"
Cleo shrugs her shoulders, cracking open another can of paint as her conscious instructs her to. "I'm not sure." Cleo stands up. All in one motion looks at the wall, she looks down the covered floors, she looks at her boyfriend.
"Need any help?"
"Funny you should ask..." The idea of using Prince's help played heavy in her mind. "Take your clothes off and fuck me."
Prince laughs, "What?"
"On the wall..." Cleo adds. She bend down to pick up a large paint bucket. "In wet paint." Prince's head tilts. He'd love to object but the artist in my is egging him on to play his role as a muse. All of him wondered what she had in store for the two of them.
"O-okay."
Still caught off guard, Prince, strips out of his clothing. He folds the electric blue suit he wore and sets it to the side. Cleo strips as well, throwing her clothes wherever they land. She throws a gallon of paint on the wall. Her perfectly pressed hair in a ponytail, she stands against the wall.
"Come on."
Prince approaches her. He says very little as he presses her body against the wall. Lips intertwined, her legs wrap around the walls as they press against the wall. The paint makes it all slippery but nobody is hurt. Prince and Cleo move all across the wall and with every stroke, the image becomes more clear than it could ever be. Her back bumps against the wall at a rapid rate until she's squealing. "Okay, okay, you can stop!" Of course, too caught up in the moment, stopping doesn't cross his mind until he's seconds to his climax. The kind of climax that Cleo had already came face to face with.
Cleo's weak legs cause her to drop to her knees. Mouth wide open as he strokes himself before her. His perfectly round ass pressing against the wall of wet paint. Cleo sticks her tongue out, praying that it'll help catch any leakage of the load he's about to to shoot. "Fuck!" He cries as he releases exactly where she wished. Taking her hand and firmly gripping around his base, she stuffs him into her mouth to clean him of any excess that had been missed. After french kissing the head, she pays him no mind as a nude Prince takes a seat, watching her finish her painting.
Taking all kinds of contrasting hues, Cleo highlights their each and every body part that touched up against the wall. The skills of this woman cause for the painting to look more real than life itself.
Prince looks at the painting from where he sits. He hums in approval at the graphic images she has created. "Sex,"he casually says aloud, waiting for Cleo to come close enough to kick off round two.
Cleo nods, "Sex."
