Origin Of Sin

3. The Violet Red Room

CHAPTER 3 THE VIOLET RED ROOM

I looked around and I was in a room, painted with a color I couldn't remember the name of. There was a curtained window, opened, but the color of the sky was also obscure to me, and thus, I didn't know the time. I could feel the softness of the bed and the coolness of the room but the rest of my senses were ambiguous. Except for my sense of touch and scent, and maybe sound, all else was failing me.

The faceless man stood in front of me. I thought he was on the other side of the room but in step and a crouch h,e was face to face with me. Nose touching, are breath fanning each other's faces. The features of his shifted, morphed and changed, it was as if a picture was taken of something in motion, I couldn't catch the details.

All I knew is what I could smell.
Milk chocolate.
French vanilla.
Ginger mint.

Why did the man in front me smell like a dessert?

At the thought, the room suddenly filled with color. A light, high on the ceiling flickered on and the room gleamed with a dark purple shine and a dark thought enraptured me.

He smells like dessert.. would he taste like one?

The lights flickered, the color changed.

In a blink, my sweet smelling man was on the bed in my place, on his back- and I was sitting on his hips. Our groins hummed against each other. I softly grinded against him. Wanting, begging to memorize the shape of him against my lower lips. At every throb of his dīck, my clītoris felt it, like a direct attack. He was illuminated by a red glow, the light highlighting the curve of his chest and the black inked shapes and forms that were slithering their way down his chest and escaped into the v of his hips.

I ran my tongue over my lips. My sweet smelling man,
"How sweet will you taste, my love."

I leaned down, grasping his arms to stay in place as my tongue ran down his body. First his neck, his chest and down to his hips. He was so smooth, so.. thick. I traced the black caricatures, following them down his hips and let out a moan as I stopped at the elastic of his boxer. I could feel the shape of his mēmber. It throbbed against the space between my breast. Calling for me. It's what I needed to taste. My body hummed, electricity exploding within me at the presence of the sensation. My whole body pulsed, my pūssy pulsed with need. I was overcome with heat and my next actions were not my own.

My mouth wrapped around a portion of the elastic, and with my teeth, lips brushing against his pelvis, I went to pull down his boxers, and he finally made a sound, his body vibrating as he let out a deep, needy groan that shook me to my pulsing core. God, the sound would stain itself in my memories. Echo in my death. I needed him. All of him. Now. Always.

And God-he tasted.. he tasted.. he tasted like-

Beep.

The red room went purple.

Beep.

The purple room went colorless.

Beep.

My shadow man was gone as I opened my eyes to the cake sitting on my lap. And it was beginning to droop a bit. "Ah, what the fūck," I murmured to it and quickly put it back into the fridge. I went to the sink again, splashing water on my face and let out an exasperated whine. "What is wrong with me... when did I get this horny.."

I dropped my head, a sigh escaping. "And not even like the normal horny, your like a weird artsy horny. Like, humping-a-bucket-of-paint-thinner horny."