“That’s Cody’s color. His dental cleaning.”
“Ooohkey…what’s that one?”
“That’s the dog. He has..”
“Wait. The dog has a color too?”
“Well…uh…yes. How else am I going to keep everyone straight? We’re going in ten different directions these days and…”
“Which one is my color?”
“You’re the black one.”
He raises an eyebrow, then laughs.
“I suppose there is symbolism at play there. And you are?”
Her voice is a tad defensive.
“Nah, you’re one of the bravest people I know. You don’t have a yellow streak in you at all. Wrong choice. Pick again.”
“Thank you…and I’m not really brave–”
“You live with a black marker. You’re brave.”
“oh. uh. Well. Yes Sir.”
She recognized the changing tone in his voice. The kids were abed, the house was quiet as she went over the family calendar and how she’d managed, finally, to get everyone sorted out. It wasn’t easy, juggling 4 boys, 2 dogs, 3 cats, a goldfish, a gerbil, and the two adults. Sometimes she felt totally crazed. This, this calendar system, would help.
“Sir, there aren’t that many other colors left….”
“Oh but…I’m not really a pink girl, with all the testosterone floating around here…”
“Your pussy is that shade of pink.”
He reached around her to the box of slim markers on the table. He rubbed his finger along the cap the blush-pink marker.
“At least until my fingers start playing. Or my mouth. Then it flushes into this deeper rose color. Perhaps this marker is better. It will remind you, every time you see it on the calendar.”
Leaving the blush-pink, his finger moved to a deeper, rosy pink.
“Paradise Pink,” he read off the side of the barrel.
“Sir…” she bit her lip, her breathing just a bit quicker than it had been moments before. His fingers slid up and down the marker, subtly teasing her. The tip of his index finger stroked and flicked the same area, just above the word ‘pink’, the same way he touched her clit. Swallowing hard, she tried to look away. She still had several things to input, several months of sports, music lessons, doctor visits to add…
He lifted the marker to his mouth, and licked along the shaft. She swore she could feel it along her cleft. Her pussy leapt to life, swelling and suddenly wanton.
“Sir..” she whispered, her voice suddenly ragged.
He popped the top off, looking carefully at the color, nodding to himself. He inhaled the scent, looked down at her. Reaching around her, he slid the marker tip to today’s date.
She looked at the words written in his familiar, messy scrawl. She may have winced at the mess on her meticulous calendar–but her pussy was suddenly overruling her brain.
He checked his watch, then scrawled some more.
Recapping the bright pink marker, he slid it slowly into the box. Before she could respond, his other hand cupped the back of her head, then fisted into her hair. Head pulled back suddenly, her mouth gasped open as his face loomed over hers. His grin did crazy things to her cunt.
“Yes,” he mused, looking down into her face. She’d transformed, her “mom face” melting into the one he enjoyed best, needy submissive slut. He read the greed in her eyes. Felt the quiver of her body. With a sudden move, he tugged her away from the chair. Markers scattered across the table as she rose quickly. Her heart thumped that joyful jungle drum. He was going to take her. Use her. Be rough with her.
“Yes, today seems to be the perfect date, doesn’t it…slut?”