Having Her Cake

I come home in the middle of the night to find Junie standing in front of the fridge. Both of its doors are wide open. Her hands are resting on the top shelf and her head is bowed. Every time we get any semblance of a summer she can be found in the kitchen, cooling herself.

But watching her doesn’t cool me down any. No, it does the opposite. Especially right now when the only light in the room is coming from the fridge. It shines through her chiffon robe, making a silhouette of her gorgeous body. Gaze following her shape, I see side-boob. Two soft rolls. Large, wide hips that I know still bare bruises from my fingers, a fleshy ass that I know is covered in welts from the cane I whacked her with yesterday.

It’s when I reach her thighs that I can’t stay in the doorway. I know what delights lie at their tops.

She hears me coming and spins to face me. The light only illuminates one side of her face, but I can see she’s smiling. I don’t even speak to her. When I reach her, I take her face in my hands and kiss her like there’s no tomorrow. She gasps, stumbles back into the door, grabs my shoulders for balance and clings to me. Her kiss is as urgent as mine.

God, I want her. I’m imagining watching her belly undulate as I fuck her on the dining table. In my mind, I see her holding onto the taps while I drill her ass by the sink. I see her on her knees, pressing her massive tits together, mouth open, tongue out, moaning impatiently because I’m not showering her face with cum fast enough.

When I break the kiss, she thinks she knows what’s coming. A loud thud breaks the silence. Her knees have hit the floor. I get the open mouth I was imagining and the throaty panting. She discards her robe and waits.

But I don’t pull my pants down and give her my cock. I step closer, letting her feel it on her face, but I don’t give it to her. While she rubs her cheek against me, I turn my fevered eyes to the fridge. There, right in front, is the gateau she baked for the dinner party we’re having tomorrow.

Cold races up my arm when my fingers dig into fresh cream. Almond silvers crack apart, sponge yields. Mandarin syrup spreads over the back of my hand and splashes on Junie’s tits as I bring my fist to her face.

“Eat it all up, baby,” I whisper, pushing the sponge into her mouth, spreading cream over her cheeks, licking my lips when I see syrup dripping off her nipple and landing on her belly.

Fuck, how she moans! The sounds bounce around in my skull, making me dizzy with desire. Another handful of cake pushed into a waiting mouth. This time I push my fingers in, too, grabbing my cock through my pants when she tries to chew and swallow around the restriction.

She’s covered in segments of orange. Her dimpled hands mash cream into her tits. I hear the wet, smacking sounds of heavy tits thumping against a heavy body. How many times have I fucked those tits? They feel so fucking good wrapped around my cock.

More gateau.

Cream covers her face. Her hand is between her legs, her wrist is shaking and it’s making the rest of her body wobble. Every movement is sexy, every ripple makes my dick throb. She’s gagging now. Trying to meet her lungs’ demand for oxygen is making her swallow chunks of fruit when she isn’t ready for them.

“Oh, good girl!”

She’s reaching into the fridge, pawing at the cake, stuffing it in her mouth, rubbing it on her body, offering a splodge of cream to me. Watching her let go is so fucking hot. She’s animalistic, uninhibited. Touching herself and feeding herself and pleasing herself while I stand here and imagine my body rubbing over hers. Spreading sweetness everywhere, licking it off each other, sliding all over each other, using our hands and mouths, my cock and her cunt to make each other howl.

Jars in the fridge door start to rattle. I drop to my knees, riveted, not even caring when the destroyed cake lands on me, plate and all. Junie gags and chokes and moans. Stiffens, then flops forward into my arms. She shivers, whimpers, then pops a piece of mandarin into her mouth. I’m going to fuck her senseless in a minute, but first I need to ask her something.

“Wanna try the pie?”

Prompt #321 – Lust

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