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krem

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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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"Really?" asks Adaline, almost a little irritated by how much she craves him, right then. A little irritated with herself, even as she's breathless and wanting, her nipples hard under his touch.

"Still in here?" she asks. "And how much of a serving surface is sir going to want?"

He kissed her shoulder, her neck, up to her ear, like he might sooth any irritation she had just with his mouth alone. He thought he could make a fairly admirable attempt at it, anyway.

"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.

Adaline draws in a soft, frustrated breath and then she stands up, topless in her kitchen. She pauses, for a moment and then she strips off her capris but leaves her panties on - he can peel them off if he wants to. The table is sold, scarred, bought in replacement of the slightly more flimsy thing that had been there when she moved in. She hops up to sit on it and then lies back, arranging herself gracefully, propped up on her elbows as she watches him.

He returned to her nonchalantly, removing his shirt and binder on the way, like that made some sort of difference in this whole mess of things. Really, he just liked the idea of showering her with attention and that she might scrape her fingers teasingly against his skin in the midst of it, with no barrier to stop her.

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?"

Adaline let him arrange her how he wanted to and then she shook her head, lifting her hips slightly against the surface of the table.

"You can do what you want with my panties," she says.

Krem laughed a little and took the lift of her hips as a sign that he ought not sacrifice Adaline's underwear to potential stains. He pealed them off and cast them aside, spreading her legs gently once she was fully nude.

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."

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.

He admired her a long moment , as long as he dared with the chocolate on her skin sliding in the weight of gravity and the heat of the room of her skin, before he leaned in toward her. He made no effort to support her breasts now, just seeking her skin haphazardly. His teeth and tongue scraped up chocolate and cuts of strawberry, filling his mouth with tart, sweet flavors and the underpang of her skin. It was hard not to groan with each pass but he did let himself be worshipful.

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?"

Krem hummed, his mouth roaming. Once he'd collected all the strawberries--but hardly cleaned her up--he kissed up to her mouth and licked gently into her mouth. His mouth was curled into a smiled. He was well within her range of touch, but she hadn't so much as brushed him, and that was her prerogative; he didn't push for it.

"It's quite delicious, yes," he assured against her mouth.

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."

"For me, too," Krem said, his smile wide and confessional as well. But he was enjoying himself too immensely to even consider stopping, unless Adaline told him to, and her voice said anything but that she wanted him to stop.

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.

Adaline's breath catches when he touches her like that, his hand slipped between her legs. She squirms a little, pressing into his hand, arching her back towards his mouth. Her fingers curl around his bicep, squeezing lightly.

Krem sighed against Adaline's skin, his tongue busy with cleaning her of the chocolate. He sank his fingers into her, two at once, as she pressed toward his attention with an abandon that spoke of her want and desire. He took it at the given value. His fingers curled inside her, insist, demanding, as he sought out every drip and streak of chocolate.

Adaline groans softly, fingers of one hand working into her long, blonde hair, twisting as she lift her hips.

"You could be making your mouth more useful," she says, a hint of bossiness in her voice.

"Oh, of course," Krem said, smiling against her skin. He dragged one of the chairs over and sat down, shuffling her hips to the edge so he could kiss up her thighs, between them. It was a tease of a touch. He kept his fingers inside her, curled and possessive in the way that he was touching her even as he laved his tongue over her clit.

Which is exactly what she wanted. She spreads her thighs wider as he slips between them as he kisses her skin, as he presses his mouth against her clit. She reaches down, pushing the fingers of one hand into his hair.

Krem moaned, lifting Adaline's legs gently over his shoulders. He'd decided, perhaps just now, that it was one of his favorite positions--her thighs at his ears and legs cast over his shoulders, his face pressed snugly between her thighs as he worked to bring her off with mouth and fingers. Her fingers were an anchor, firm and guiding, and he was happy to follow her lead.

He's remarkably good at this and Adaline is happy to take advantage. She twists her fingers in his hair, guiding his mouth, keeping it pressed snugly against her cunt.

"That's so good," she breathes.

For all that she's only the second woman he'd ever been with, he liked to think that he was well enough acquainted with what he liked, and with directing his few male lovers, to take direction on what she enjoyed well. He kept his mouth sealed close, his tongue working in patterns over his clit and his fingers fucking her steadily. He pressed another finger into her, spreading them out inside her just a bit.

Adaline squirms a little against the table top, her heels digging into Krem's back as his mouth works over her. She tugs at his hair, rocking her hips rhythmically under his mouth.

Each tug to his hair dragged a pleasant noise out of him. He could feel the heat pooling neatly between his thighs as he kept working on her body, going a little harder, a little faster now. He wanted to feel her come, badly now. He wanted to feel how she came apart around him, against his mouth. He wanted to enjoy that pleasant taste mingling with the residual sweetness of the chocolate at the back of his throat.

Adaline moans, the sound ending in a little gasp. Her hips jerk; she loses her rhythm a little.

"Could you..." She presses one hand across her face, her flushed skin. "Could you see to yourself while you see to me? I'd...oh, God...I'd like that."

Krem pulled back from her, just long enough to suck in a ragged breath. He pressed a kiss to her inner thigh while his mouth wasn't occupied with her clit, and he looked up at her. His eyes were a grin.

"I certainly can," he assured against her skin, free hand already fidgeting down between his legs to open his jeans and urgently press inside. He sighed against her thigh, kissed back up. "Oh. Oh, fuck."

He didn't lick her a moment, just had his mouth close to her cunt as he fucked her and touched himself and breathed. He shivered under her knees. A series of soft, emphatic, it's goods and Maker, Adalines and oh hells spilled out of him, his lips just brushing her clit.

"Come on, Krem," says Adaline, lifting her hips to his mouth. "Don't make me remind you what good work looks like." She bites her lip, both hands grazing the rise of her breasts."

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krempuff - 2016-05-02 15:38 (UTC) - Expand

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