Red.

My fist wraps around your hair, strands swaying as my hips slam into your ass. From behind, you can hear me growling, panting with exertion, the weight of my body bearing you down, holding you in place, and pressing into you with thrusts that shake your bones. The fevered smack of flesh on flesh reverberates through the tiny space, and sweat drips onto the floor with every rutting pound. From far away, someone's moaning, her voice rolling out and echoing, choked off in turns, somehow, in the rhythm of your body swaying and slamming back without a care.

Pink.

Sheets swirl about your shoulders when you shift, your back tensing and arching despite yourself, and my hands find their languid way to your hips to pull you back down. You can feel my muscles working beneath my skin, from where your ankles cross around my shoulders, and a playful hum sings out from between your thighs, brown eyes flashing up with a wink before I lower my lips to you again. That hum draws closer, until you can feel it, and soon the cheery flutter of a tongue adds its rhythm too, as your world begins to melt into a soft haze.

Green.

The log is rough against your skin, and the dew spatters off leaves as it shakes, the rich press of dirt underfoot rising up between your toes and tickling your skin with blades of grass and moss, cool against your palms. The light streams down through the canopy overhead, and your eyes can't help but close as firm hands find their place against your waist, tugging you down and adding the rhythm of rolling hips up against your own downward plunge. For now, you're here, as the air wafts around you. When your eyes crack open, a teasing grin meets them, and hands begin to reach...

White.

It comes on in an instant, with only the scant warnings you've come to know - fingers tightening against the back of your head, a sway to my knees against your shoulders, a flush flowering in crimson beneath dark hair - and then you're full. Thick, rolling clenches, the throbbing out against your lips beating just slower than my heart, and warmth spreads against your tongue. Salt and just a little bit sweet, hot and generous: you can feel it pulsing down your throat in a rich slide, bubbling up against your lips and dripping down your chin, and more, and more - you've done well.

Blue.

Thunder crashes, rattling the windows in their frames, and there's nought to do but hold on, while the storm batters against the stone walls. Here, at least, you're safe, the rippling flashes of lighting illuminating your world in scattershot bursts. My arms encircle you, holding you tight to my chest, and the cold drafts are wicked away by the heat around you, behind you, inside you. You can feel my lips teasing at the curve of your jaw, fingers alighting playfully on the places that make you groan, and even from the moody light of the rain-spattered moon, there's more than a hint of heat sparkling, there, when my eyes find yours again at last.

What's your favorite color?

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