by Nathaniel Tower
Blue enjoys fucking and getting fucked by German men in the river. She's one of those artsy types, and she makes them paint her portrait afterwards. Sometimes she paints the sunrise while she's getting pounded by the German schnitzels, always facing east so she can see the glimmering golds and pinks and whatnots.
Lately she's been seeing this one man, Gunther, exclusively. He tells her there is no 'h' in his name, but she puts it there anyway. He can't paint worth a damn, but the sex is much better than any painting she's ever seen—although she is thinking of painting the pair having sex in the river at sunset, just to try something different. Not that she will actually have sex in the river during sunset. That just seems barbaric to her.
"Can I paint you tonight?" Gunther asks during a particularly rousing morning session. Blue isn't painting today because it's cloudy.
Blue hates looking at Gunther's paintings, and she hates sitting for them. The last one was so hideous she couldn't even orgasm in the river the next day.
"I'd rather paint you," she tells him.
Gunther quickens his pace as if just trying to end it.
"It would mean a lot to me," he says.
"And it would mean even more to me," she responds through interrupted moans.
Gunther stops even though neither has climaxed yet.
"Your paintings are rubbish," he tells her.
Blue moves away from Gunther and begins to sob. Then she drowns herself in the river. Gunther paints it. It's his best work.
Nathaniel Tower writes fiction, teaches English, and manages the online lit magazine Bartleby Snopes. His short fiction has appeared in over 100 online and print magazines and has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize. His story "The Oaten Hands" was named one of 190 notable stories by storySouth's Million Writers Award in 2009. His first novel, A Reason To Kill, was released in July 2011 through MuseItUp Publishing. Visit him at www.bartlebysnopes.com/ntower.htm