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Yes, please.
“Sit on the couch and spread them wide,” he commands.
I obey.
He holds my gaze as he caresses my thighs, “Is it okay if I have dessert at the same time as I eat you out?”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“Instead of telling you, why don’t I show you.”
He gets up and struts towards the kitchen.
I appreciate the show, but I’m confused.
He rummages through his fridge.
What the fuck?
He actually wants to eat dessert?
I thought we were in the middle of sexy times.
He’s back with… huh?
“I have a bowl of fresh whipped cream,” he lifts one hand, “and an island banana,” he lifts the other. “I only broke the tip so I can use a bit of the flesh. It’s best if I keep the peel on.”
“I don’t follow.”
“I told you I was in the mood for some dessert. I have a craving for banana cream pie.” My frown deepens. “I’ll take some creative liberties and deviate from the recipe. For my take on the classic dessert, no plate or spoon are needed. I’m going to eat it right off your pussy.”
This is going to be kinky.
“Now sit back, relax, and let me do the work,” he orders.
He doesn't have to tell me twice.
He drops to his knees and places the small banana on the couch near me. He grabs a handful of the whipped cream and spreads it all over my breasts.
I gasp and my nipples pebble.
He leans forward and licks off all the whipped cream.
I lace my fingers in his hair.
He bites my nipple.
I yelp.
The other nipple receives the same treatment.
I bite my lower lip as a blissful sensation runs through my body.
He grabs another handful of the whipped cream. “Open wide.”
I do as I’m told.
He shoves it into my mouth.
