Adaline Bowman (
juststopped) wrote2016-04-09 08:14 pm
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This time, she's going to make sure that they eat dinner. She's got bread in the over, pasta bubbling away - nothing particularly exciting, a similar dish to the one that she'd eaten the first time they ate together. She's dressed comfortably because she's staying at home, in capris and a pretty blouse, barefoot in her kitchen with her hair caught into a braid over one shoulder. She's spent enough time around Krem that she feels entirely comfortable in his company but there's still a flutter of anticipation at knowing that he's on his way.
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That's obscene and Adaline stares, watching the dart of his tongue against his fingers. There's a sudden rush of heat between her legs and she feels her face flush.
"Mmhm."
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When he focused at Adaline after a moment, he smiled at her gently.
"I'm sorry," he murmured with a smirk. "Am I distracting you?"
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"Entirely," she says, with a sharply arched eyebrow. She leans back in her chair, folding her arms under her breasts. "And you know it."
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Gently, he pushed her braid over her shoulder so her neck was exposed.
"I suppose," he murmured as he leaned in and brushed his mouth against her throat, "I ought to properly distract you then."
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Adaline lets her head tip back against Krem's shoulder, her hand slipping back to graze against his thigh as he kisses her neck. Here, the height difference actually seems to be useful.
"I'm always open to distractions," she says, her voice gone a little breathy.
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Adaline makes absolutely no move to stop him. She reaches back, both of her hands grazing his thighs, which arches her back slightly, pushes her breasts forward as he unbuttons her blouse. Her bra is pretty, black lace embroidered with tiny flowers in spring colours.
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He squeezed, gentle for the moment, smoothing his thumbs over her nipples coaxingly. It was all a tease of a touch, at the moment. He knew she liked more firmness, but he wasn't inclined to give her that just yet.
"You look positively delectable, Adaline," he murmured against the side of her neck.
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"Perfect compliment to the chocolate sauce, I think," he murmured against her skin, leaning over her to grab the chocolate drizzle and the strawberries. "Don't you?"
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"You know, I don't think anyone's ever tried before."
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"I suppose I ought to deal with the dishes then, while you take care of that."
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"Still in here?" she asks. "And how much of a serving surface is sir going to want?"
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"Of course in here; we already discussed the clean up. And as much as the lady wishes to provide me," he whispered against the shell of her ear, and then he pulled away from her.
He collected her dirty dishes and left the table to take them to the kitchen. It gave him a breath to compose himself, to approach how he was going to go about this. Like his own dishes, he gave Adaline's a perfunctory wash and then left them in the sink for now. He'd deal with them later.
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At the side of the table, he picked up the chocolate sauce, considering the bottle of it contemplatively for a moment, and then Adaline's soft, fair skin. Slowly, he tilted her chin back so there was a sloping line from her head to her hips.
"Are you particularly fond of these panties, or should I take them off for you?"
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"You can do what you want with my panties," she says.
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Then, he took the bottle and began to drizzle the chocolate sauce across her skin. It slicked across her throat, the top of her breasts, gently down her stomach to pool at her naval. He made sure some of it dripped across the small, hard peaks of her nipples, enough to give cautious little drops.
He picked up the strawberries and placed the cut chunks deliberately across her skin--the bend of her collarbone, the top of each breast, balanced just above her nipples with a stern "Don't let them fall."
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She does her best to lie still, making sure that her breathing stays shallow as he decorates her breasts and ribcage with chocolate and strawberries. She bites her lip, a slow flush spreading across her cheeks and chest. She shifts her hips a little against the table top, aware of just how wet she is.
"Sir, no, Sir," she says, teasing, smiling, the slices of strawberry balanced against her nipples trembling with every rise and fall of her ribcage.
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It feels almost unbelievably decadent - the heady taste of chocolate and strawberries, the wet heat of his mouth on his skin, the occasional swipe of his tongue. Adaline lifts one arm, pillows her head on it, doesn't pull away from his mouth.
"To your liking?"
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"It's quite delicious, yes," he assured against her mouth.
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The taste of chocolate on his tongue is delightful and Adaline leans up into her, fingers of her free hand grazing down his bicep as they kiss.
"I'll confess, this is a new experience for me," she says, acutely aware of the sticky paths of chocolate still left on her skin. "But it's lovely."
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He bent his head back to her sticky, chocolate-smeared skin, licking and nibbling up the streaks on her soft, pliant body. He let one of his hands stray down to her leg, smoothing up slowly, until he could cup her cunt and rub gently, teasingly, against her.
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