planted you on me. I hope you’re well paid for the job.”
“I don’t know your father,” she sneered as she tried to yank her restraint loose. “Does he usually have to find a girlfriend or fuck-buddy for you?”
He picked up the whipped cream and shook it vigorously. Over the clack-clack of the little ball bouncing around in the can, he said dispassionately, “That would account for you having lunch with him two weeks ago and again last Tuesday. It would also explain your sudden urgent appointment with Margo for a wax job on your pussy. I’m quite sure my father explained my preferences.” With a little nod, he popped the cap off the can and sprayed fluffy whipped cream around her left nipple with careful precision. After studying his work for a moment, he gave another nod and decorated her other nipple in the same way.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded coolly.
“Fixing breakfast.” He stepped back and looked her in the eye. “Spread your legs.”
“Jerk!”
He tapped one knee with the can. “Come on, baby. Open up. You know how much you like it when I lick your pussy and clit.”
“Asshole!”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll lick that too, if you like. I’m hearing a lot of trash talk but the one word I haven’t heard yet is ‘no’,” he pointed out in a bored tone. “You know the rules. Now spread your legs wide open, or I’ll do it for you—and if I do it, I’ll make sure they stay that way.”
Experience had taught her it was no idle threat, so she shot him a dirty look and spread her knees until he could comfortably fit his wide shoulders between them. He yanked one of the kitchen chairs close, turned it around so that he straddled it and shoved it against the counter. When he was comfortable, he lowered his mouth until his lips brushed her bare mound. Suddenly, he sat back and said, “Almost forgot!” With a flourish, he decorated her with whipped cream. A quick snap of his fingers and he was up and heading for the refrigerator. Seconds later he returned with a large jar of red cherries, the bowl of orange slices and a small canister of shredded coconut. “Yummy, yummy,” he said with a devilish grin as he sat back down and made himself comfortable.
It took him a while to arrange his booty to his satisfaction but once he had everything ready, he leaned into her crotch to take a long lick, curling his tongue at the end as he reached her clit. He felt her jolt when fiery sensation shot up her spine but knew she would refuse to give him the reaction he was looking for as long as possible. She didn’t disappoint him, inquiring instead with cool sarcasm, “What? No chocolate sauce?”
“I knew I was missing something!”
He was up and away before she could draw breath to protest. “You’re going to get this robe stained. I’ll never get the chocolate out.”
“Mmm.” He stood next to the chair shaking the squeeze bottle of chocolate sauce in his hand while he concentrated on a solution. Then, with a sharp nod, he set the bottle down and retrieved the kitchen shears.
He nipped through the collar at the nape of her neck, carefully deposited the shears back in the drawer and then in one quick jerk, ripped the robe from collar to hem. It was a pretty flamboyant move but didn’t really address the issue as now she just had a torn robe— hanging from her shoulders .
After one quick look, she squeezed her eyes tightly shut. He could tell she was silently counting to twenty. When it obviously wasn’t enough, she continued on to thirty. “What in the hell do you think you’re doing?” she demanded in despair. “Do you know how much this robe cost me?”
“Not as much as I’ll be paying to replace it, I bet,” he retorted while he went back for the shears. When he returned, he cut the robe down the length of both sleeves and with great deliberation, gathered up the pieces and tossed them in the trash. Almost immediately, he changed his mind and jerked the soft
“I don’t know your father,” she sneered as she tried to yank her restraint loose. “Does he usually have to find a girlfriend or fuck-buddy for you?”
He picked up the whipped cream and shook it vigorously. Over the clack-clack of the little ball bouncing around in the can, he said dispassionately, “That would account for you having lunch with him two weeks ago and again last Tuesday. It would also explain your sudden urgent appointment with Margo for a wax job on your pussy. I’m quite sure my father explained my preferences.” With a little nod, he popped the cap off the can and sprayed fluffy whipped cream around her left nipple with careful precision. After studying his work for a moment, he gave another nod and decorated her other nipple in the same way.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded coolly.
“Fixing breakfast.” He stepped back and looked her in the eye. “Spread your legs.”
“Jerk!”
He tapped one knee with the can. “Come on, baby. Open up. You know how much you like it when I lick your pussy and clit.”
“Asshole!”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll lick that too, if you like. I’m hearing a lot of trash talk but the one word I haven’t heard yet is ‘no’,” he pointed out in a bored tone. “You know the rules. Now spread your legs wide open, or I’ll do it for you—and if I do it, I’ll make sure they stay that way.”
Experience had taught her it was no idle threat, so she shot him a dirty look and spread her knees until he could comfortably fit his wide shoulders between them. He yanked one of the kitchen chairs close, turned it around so that he straddled it and shoved it against the counter. When he was comfortable, he lowered his mouth until his lips brushed her bare mound. Suddenly, he sat back and said, “Almost forgot!” With a flourish, he decorated her with whipped cream. A quick snap of his fingers and he was up and heading for the refrigerator. Seconds later he returned with a large jar of red cherries, the bowl of orange slices and a small canister of shredded coconut. “Yummy, yummy,” he said with a devilish grin as he sat back down and made himself comfortable.
It took him a while to arrange his booty to his satisfaction but once he had everything ready, he leaned into her crotch to take a long lick, curling his tongue at the end as he reached her clit. He felt her jolt when fiery sensation shot up her spine but knew she would refuse to give him the reaction he was looking for as long as possible. She didn’t disappoint him, inquiring instead with cool sarcasm, “What? No chocolate sauce?”
“I knew I was missing something!”
He was up and away before she could draw breath to protest. “You’re going to get this robe stained. I’ll never get the chocolate out.”
“Mmm.” He stood next to the chair shaking the squeeze bottle of chocolate sauce in his hand while he concentrated on a solution. Then, with a sharp nod, he set the bottle down and retrieved the kitchen shears.
He nipped through the collar at the nape of her neck, carefully deposited the shears back in the drawer and then in one quick jerk, ripped the robe from collar to hem. It was a pretty flamboyant move but didn’t really address the issue as now she just had a torn robe— hanging from her shoulders .
After one quick look, she squeezed her eyes tightly shut. He could tell she was silently counting to twenty. When it obviously wasn’t enough, she continued on to thirty. “What in the hell do you think you’re doing?” she demanded in despair. “Do you know how much this robe cost me?”
“Not as much as I’ll be paying to replace it, I bet,” he retorted while he went back for the shears. When he returned, he cut the robe down the length of both sleeves and with great deliberation, gathered up the pieces and tossed them in the trash. Almost immediately, he changed his mind and jerked the soft
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