I just can't stop thinking about how his fingers are orange.
I've finally got him here shirtless and cold enough that his nipples are hard and all I'm thinking about are his orange fingers.
It was that damn bag of Cheetos I thought it was a good idea to buy when we stopped by Seven Eleven on the way to the cast party. And you know the stain stays on your fingers for hours, even if you wash your hands.
Which I'm pretty sure he did, but it seems kinda rude to ask.
His lips are stained slightly orange, too, or at least they were when we were downstairs in the kitchen, but the bathroom lights were too dim to tell when I was tracing his bottom lip with my thumb earlier.
And when he kissed me after I closed the door to Ted Hebert's second floor bathroom, at first I could almost taste the Cheetos, but then I just sunk into the tongue sensations and the smells of cucumber makeup remover and the lingering sweat still on his skin, even though I saw him reapply deodorant when I was sneaky perving at him changing out of his costume.
I hope I don't smell bad, or still taste like Cheetos or sweat from the stage lights. Especially now that he's licking his way down my neck. I moan a little to keep him going, since it'd suck if he stopped now, but I keep the moan subtle 'cause Ted walking in right now to yell at us about fooling around in the bathroom would just totally blow.
