Paint by Numbers - Part Five
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Gil's arms lay loosely around Catherine's waist as their mouths battled each other. Catherine snaked her tongue into his mouth, stroking it with hers as her hands wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer. She inhaled sharply through her nose, trying to ration the oxygen coming in. She gently pushed back against his chest, separating them for some much needed air. "We can't keep doing this." She panted.
"Mmm." Gil muttered incoherently, trailing kisses down her neck, to her collar-bone. He unzipped the overalls slightly and was reaching to unzip the padded jacket from the back when Catherine stopped him.
"Seriously Gil, we can't just keep throwing ourselves into each other's arms, thinking that'll work out on it's own." She took a step back, her eyes noticing Gil's crotch for the first time. "That's why Sara was speechless, for once." She muttered the last part under her breath.
Gil tore his eyes away and looked down. "Oh God." He leaned his head back against the door. "Well, you're not better off either." He walked towards her, his eyes stealing a glance at her breasts.
She looked down, noting the blatant imprints of his hands on her chest. She sighed when she felt him place his hands back, matching up with the prints. "Gil. . ." She moaned as he sensually rubbed her. "We have to finish with the experiment." She pressed her chest out, further into his hands. Her eyes met his, heavily glazed over with lust and love.
"Okay," he pouted playfully, nipping at her lips. "Greg was able to separate the cover-up paint that was thrown on the canvas." He unwillingly dropped his hold on her and moved to the Cassidy's canvas. He held up a picture of the canvas without the covering coat of paint. "The paint was a different consistency, primer actually. So it was easy for them to separate and then with computer graphics, relying on smudge and on the chemical break-up of the canvas, they were able to decree where the paint actually seeped in to the material of the canvas." He held up the finishing picture.
"Are those her leg prints?" Catherine asked, squinting.
Gil nodded, her scent and close proximity driving him mad. He felt as if his pants were going to explode.
"So she was upside down?" Catherine walked towards the newer canvas, her eyes resting on the smudge that she and Gil had left. "Gil, paint me." She purred.
Gil walked up, his eyes roaming her body. He tried desperately to control his carnal desires, and fought from pouncing her. He picked up the paint can and placed it beside her, and dipping both hands in, he began to rub her back, giving her a small massage in the meantime. He worked past her firm buttocks, down her shapely legs and calves. He loved hearing her moans as his hands caressed her. He stepped back, watching her prepare as he took a piece of cloth and wiped his hands.
Looking down on the floor, and placing her hands right near the edge of the canvas, she hoisted herself up on her hand. She let herself lean against the canvas, finally looking up to see that Gil was there to support her. She leaned in as much as she could, and she gasped as she felt Gil press his hands against her abdomen, and legs, trying to get a better imprint. He gave her a sexy smile and stepped back.
Catherine brought her feet back on the ground, and straightened up, feeling Gil's hand gently support her lower back.
They both admired the print of Catherine's upside down body on the canvas, but each had a completely different reason. Catherine was proud that she could still successfully do a handstand without looking like a complete basket-case and Gil was completely turned on by her flexibility.
"So he threw her against the wall and she landed on her head, thus cracking the spine." Catherine said, cleaning her hands with some turpentine and old rag.
"Now we have to find just who this 'who' is." He smiled. "I'm sure we can catch something at the art gallery."
Catherine nodded. "Doesn't the art gallery have a security camera?"
Gil smiled, impressed. He tapped a finger to his temple. "We know who the brains of this relationship is."
Catherine raised her eyebrow, keeping a cool demeanor on the outside. However, her inner child squealed with delight at the mention of relationship. "Please Gil, you're just the eye-candy."
He laughed, helping her out of her overalls and he took off his as well. He took a wet cloth and dabbed the tip of her nose, taking the paint off. "Good as new." He kissed the tip of her nose and smiled affectionately at her.
Catherine blushed and took the cloth from his hand, wiping the side of his cheek, trying to get rid of the paint that she had put there. They stared into each other's eyes, the only movement that of Catherine's hand rubbing against Gil's cheek. She smiled, loving the way his eyes would sparkle whenever she saw her reflection in them, knowing that they glimmered for her, and she knew that her eyes were twinkling as well - his image fuelling the sparks.
He handed her a cap, and nodded to her paint encrusted hair. She smiled and pulled her hair into a ponytail, fastening the cap on. He took one himself and they both head out to the art gallery.
—TBC—
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Gil's arms lay loosely around Catherine's waist as their mouths battled each other. Catherine snaked her tongue into his mouth, stroking it with hers as her hands wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer. She inhaled sharply through her nose, trying to ration the oxygen coming in. She gently pushed back against his chest, separating them for some much needed air. "We can't keep doing this." She panted.
"Mmm." Gil muttered incoherently, trailing kisses down her neck, to her collar-bone. He unzipped the overalls slightly and was reaching to unzip the padded jacket from the back when Catherine stopped him.
"Seriously Gil, we can't just keep throwing ourselves into each other's arms, thinking that'll work out on it's own." She took a step back, her eyes noticing Gil's crotch for the first time. "That's why Sara was speechless, for once." She muttered the last part under her breath.
Gil tore his eyes away and looked down. "Oh God." He leaned his head back against the door. "Well, you're not better off either." He walked towards her, his eyes stealing a glance at her breasts.
She looked down, noting the blatant imprints of his hands on her chest. She sighed when she felt him place his hands back, matching up with the prints. "Gil. . ." She moaned as he sensually rubbed her. "We have to finish with the experiment." She pressed her chest out, further into his hands. Her eyes met his, heavily glazed over with lust and love.
"Okay," he pouted playfully, nipping at her lips. "Greg was able to separate the cover-up paint that was thrown on the canvas." He unwillingly dropped his hold on her and moved to the Cassidy's canvas. He held up a picture of the canvas without the covering coat of paint. "The paint was a different consistency, primer actually. So it was easy for them to separate and then with computer graphics, relying on smudge and on the chemical break-up of the canvas, they were able to decree where the paint actually seeped in to the material of the canvas." He held up the finishing picture.
"Are those her leg prints?" Catherine asked, squinting.
Gil nodded, her scent and close proximity driving him mad. He felt as if his pants were going to explode.
"So she was upside down?" Catherine walked towards the newer canvas, her eyes resting on the smudge that she and Gil had left. "Gil, paint me." She purred.
Gil walked up, his eyes roaming her body. He tried desperately to control his carnal desires, and fought from pouncing her. He picked up the paint can and placed it beside her, and dipping both hands in, he began to rub her back, giving her a small massage in the meantime. He worked past her firm buttocks, down her shapely legs and calves. He loved hearing her moans as his hands caressed her. He stepped back, watching her prepare as he took a piece of cloth and wiped his hands.
Looking down on the floor, and placing her hands right near the edge of the canvas, she hoisted herself up on her hand. She let herself lean against the canvas, finally looking up to see that Gil was there to support her. She leaned in as much as she could, and she gasped as she felt Gil press his hands against her abdomen, and legs, trying to get a better imprint. He gave her a sexy smile and stepped back.
Catherine brought her feet back on the ground, and straightened up, feeling Gil's hand gently support her lower back.
They both admired the print of Catherine's upside down body on the canvas, but each had a completely different reason. Catherine was proud that she could still successfully do a handstand without looking like a complete basket-case and Gil was completely turned on by her flexibility.
"So he threw her against the wall and she landed on her head, thus cracking the spine." Catherine said, cleaning her hands with some turpentine and old rag.
"Now we have to find just who this 'who' is." He smiled. "I'm sure we can catch something at the art gallery."
Catherine nodded. "Doesn't the art gallery have a security camera?"
Gil smiled, impressed. He tapped a finger to his temple. "We know who the brains of this relationship is."
Catherine raised her eyebrow, keeping a cool demeanor on the outside. However, her inner child squealed with delight at the mention of relationship. "Please Gil, you're just the eye-candy."
He laughed, helping her out of her overalls and he took off his as well. He took a wet cloth and dabbed the tip of her nose, taking the paint off. "Good as new." He kissed the tip of her nose and smiled affectionately at her.
Catherine blushed and took the cloth from his hand, wiping the side of his cheek, trying to get rid of the paint that she had put there. They stared into each other's eyes, the only movement that of Catherine's hand rubbing against Gil's cheek. She smiled, loving the way his eyes would sparkle whenever she saw her reflection in them, knowing that they glimmered for her, and she knew that her eyes were twinkling as well - his image fuelling the sparks.
He handed her a cap, and nodded to her paint encrusted hair. She smiled and pulled her hair into a ponytail, fastening the cap on. He took one himself and they both head out to the art gallery.
—TBC—