#b lue

   the equivalent of a pup with singes upon it's paws, blue elmore peers closely at his gal-- gentle furrow of his brow, even softer caress of his fingers-- he presses petals into cilla's side, and perhaps she was a bit tired, and of course, blue felt the biggest bit impolite; he can be such a boy sometimes, it's ridiculous. she's flat on her belly, and blue is pretty positive that vibrancy is hiding behind weary lids -- he's so tentative, the intentions of lust-possessed fingers shedding it's coat of innocence, and how un-blue is this!?!? he'll stick to something small for the moment, hips rutting somewhere against her side, palm pressing into the crease of her arm, pebbling with uncertainty, he'll pause at the lowest part of her abdomen.