Clothes and sheets were tossed about; the room had a sweet bitterness to the air. On the bed in a tangled mess, tired and out of breath smiling in a dazed sort of way. "I-I can't believe I've ever had this much fun…" Leela mused, her fingers outlining something on Fry's chest.
Fry wrapped an arm around her, "I'm glad you gave me a chance Leela. I love you."
His words danced about the room filling her ears with a thick sweet happiness that slowly poured down into her soul like molasses and warmed her as it went like alcohol.
They had been dating for a few months now, she wanted to go slow and Fry accepted eagerly. This was the first night they made love. The date wasn't the greatest, they had eaten subpar food, but something in Leela's chest lurched. She couldn't put her finger on it but when he gave her a simple kiss good night she couldn't see him go, just yet. 'What are you thinking?!' A voice yelled her mind but she pushed it to the back as they drank wine from her fridge, Fry bought it for a date night about a week ago. He insisted on pouring the glasses and they drank and laughed. But when he kissed her, she hungrily ached for more and pulled him closer and deepened their kiss. Fry wrapped his arms around her waist and nibbled at her bottom lip, her hands explored the sides of his face up to his red hair.
Smoothly she pushed, leading him down onto the couch they were sitting on not daring to break apart from his lips. Somehow they went from the couch to clumsily bumping into everything in their path to her bedroom, their lips locked and their hands exploring the skin of the other.
Leela pushed him onto the bed looking down at him with the look of pure ecstasy. She reminded him of a cat slinking before her prey. She eased the zipper of his dress pants with her teeth. That move made him ache for her, and his bulge was growing in appreciation for her. She straddled him smirking very pleased with her performance. His hands clasped on her hips he gently rubbed his hands down her curve and they found themselves happily squeezing her ass, the dress was skin tight and revealed she wasn't wearing any panties once his hands glided down to her butt.
What came after that was animalistic. Hands were ripping at buttons and zippers, clothes flew this way and that. Their skin met and neither of them could tell where one ended and the other began. Moans and sharp breathes filled the air. The bed springs squeaked as though applauding and action.
Fry wrapped an arm around her, he held her arching back and smiled down at her, "I love you." He panted as beads of sweat formed around his brow. She threw her head back, her back arched as her hips bucked. The sweet sound of her climax with the amazing feeling of her muscles tightly wrapping-releasing-wrapping around his thick shaft, after she had finished their eyes met and in a silent agreement he released inside her. Warmness filled her even when he pulled himself from her she could still feel him inside her. Almost instantly they were wrapped up into each other, his arms around her frame and her legs tangled up in his.
A twinge of guilt hit her, "Oh Fry…"
He stopped her by kissing her nose, "Leela, I love you." He breathed, his voice a little hoarse.
She smiled up at him, "I love you too."
They laid like that for a long time just staring into each other's eyes. The air hung thick and heavy upon their skin. A sticky sort of heat blanketed their nakedness.
Fry sat up quickly, "Leela, let me paint you." He said suddenly.
Her face crumpled in confusion, "W-what?"
"Paint." He said as he crossed her room to the desk where he had set his sketch book and water colors the other day. "Please? I'm not very good, but you look too beautiful to pass up the chance now."
Leela shrugged she had never been asked to be painted before, not even after coitus, "Sure why not, although I have never been painted before…" She rolled over onto her stomach her arms crossed and her chin rested on them, "How's this?" She asked looking at him with uncertainty of how to model.
He smiled at her, "Perfect." Then left the room and returned quickly with a cup of water. Still completely naked he sat on her desk and his pencil flicked across the paper his movements quick and jerky. His eyes would go from her form to the paper then back on her.
He made her smile and blush as his eyes traced every inch of her, "How am I doing?" She asked softly her purple hair stuck to her neck and back from sweat.
He closed one eye and stuck out his tongue working on an especially hard area of detail. After about an hour or so Leela was fighting the urge that suddenly draped over her like a thick blanket; sleep.
Fry watched as his subject's eye would droop then close, only to snap open again. "Leela you can sleep, I've gotten the details I need, I'm just fixing the lines before I paint. Go to sleep." He put down his sketch book and pencil crossed the room and kissed her forehead.
She murmured something incoherent and rolled over so her back was facing him. After he finished fixing his lines he dipped his brush in the water and eased it across the paper in strokes. He eventually mixed colors together and added water to them before he started with the base of her skin tone. He was happy with how it looked as a base but his impatience began to make him itch to finish his picture, 'hurry up so you can show Leela when she wakes and she'll be so impressed with you she'll never question her feeling for you…' He shook those thoughts away and knew better than that from the two '20th Centery art class' he took, surprised futuristic hipsters were around. His only decent medium was water coloring but it required patience which he rarely had. He put down the art and climbed into bed next to her. He tossed and turned not able to fall asleep and sighed staring at the desk. He got up and gently ran his fingers over the paper, it was still damp. He figured he could add some shading on the parts that were more dried. Unfortunately when he added the color to the wet the colors bled to the still slightly damp part and the colors merged into an ugly mucky color. He panicked and dipped his brush into the water trying to clear it of any color and tried watering down the mistake, only to further saturate the paper and as the paper curled and dipped the newer wet parts began to meet with the almost dry parts and streaked across. After many in vein attempts to save his art he pushed it off the desk and threw his head onto the hard surface. Anger burned as a tear slipped through clinched eyelids. His beautiful picture of the even more gorgeous Leela was ruined by him. He could only imagine her scoffing or rolling her eye. The art rested on the ground, the Cyclops's eye staring up at him. With his one foot he kicked it under the desk and forced himself into bed. Saddened by his attempts to woo her, it wasn't the first time he had failed. He remembered the holophoner, he had worms one time that made him play it amazingly. But getting rid of the worms also meant getting rid of his ability, he later got the Robot Devil's hands and with them wrote an amazing opera for Leela but had to give them back and once again lose his ability. Silently beating himself up over his lack of creative ability, his heart ached for a way to impress Leela. After a while sleep claimed him and he welcomed it to wash over him.
In the hours of very dim light just before the sun had fully risen Fry jolted out of bed and grabbed his paints again. He had sudden inspiration and he put layer of water then color and fanned the paper mostly dry and continued the picture until it was complete he even purposely had light colored streaks drip through Leela and it almost looked on purpose. It wasn't perfect, a middle student could probably do better. He proportions weren't great, her torso was short and her legs were long her smile looked cartoonish but he loved her expression of relaxed happiness he stared happily at his work, a little saddened it hadn't turned out like what he pictured in his head but he was satisfied with it.
Leela rolled over smiling at him, "Morning…" She groaned stretching an arm. "Is it finished? Can I see it?" She asked propping herself up on an elbow. He proudly handed it to her and she studied it silently for a long time.
Apprehension began to sink in, "…You don't like it?" He asked his mouth had gone very dry.
With a stone face she looked at him, "No…I don't like it."
His heart sank there goes any hope of wooing her.
"Fry." Her voice calm and soft, "You idiot, I don't like it…" He winced at her words, "I love it. I want to hang it up; you did such a wonderful job…" Her eyebrow arched seductively, "Now, come back to bed…I like the idea of sleeping with an artist." He leapt into bed and instantly they were tangled up into each other.
Nibbler sadly sat at her bedroom door scratching it and whining, it was the time she usually got up and fed him. Sadly for Nibbler she was currently busy.
