Traveller's Refuge

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belt free from the tatters and stuffed it in the pocket of his robe. Then mindful of her original complaint, he removed his own robe and tossed it on the table.
    Dusting his hands off, he turned to face her and inquired, “Any other problems we need to take care of before I get down to business?”
    She stared down at the impressive erection he seemed to have acquired. Evidently, ripping up her clothes really turned him on. Mutinously, she shook her head. Damned if she would give him the satisfaction of speaking out loud.
    “Excellent!” He slipped back onto his chair, taking care not to smack his hard cock on the spindles running up the chair back. It was a shock to him how hard he’d gotten from trashing that slutty robe Tiffany loved to wear. Until he had ripped it in half, he had just not been aware of how much he hated it. Forgetting the chocolate sauce after all, he took a deep breath, cupped her ass in his big hands to lift her closer, bent his head and dived in, ignoring the squeals and whimpers and moans from Tiffany. Noting the heavy stream of cream she was producing, he decided that Tiffany might not have liked that robe as much as she said.
    The first licks brushed Tiffany’s skin like butterfly wings but once Bish cleared away some of the dessert, his tongue became an artist’s brush swirling and twisting, creating a masterpiece. He planted a leisurely kiss on the sensitive area between anus and pussy and she jerked. Fluttering brushes interspersed with tiny sucking kisses equally scattered the length of her plump labia. Mini-hickeys sprinkled over the smooth rise of her puffy mound. He carefully avoided her clit though she thrashed around, trying to get his mouth on her.
    Finally he decided it was time to up the ante and planted his mouth square on her swollen clit and sucked hard at the same time he shoved two big fingers in her sopping pussy. She shrieked as deep pulsating waves of climax centered in her vagina and washed up her spine. He felt the fresh rush of slick fluid as her pussy clutched at his fingers.
    Resting his chin on her mound, he patiently waited for her to calm down before fluttering his dark eyebrows at her and sending her a “trust me” smile. When her panting faded to hitching shuddering breaths, he nodded and whispered. “Good. Again.” And he set back to work with the dedication of a man who enjoys what he’s doing.
    After her fourth screaming, moaning orgasm, he reached the limits on his control. He got up, kicked the chair out of the way while he fumbled for one of the condoms he kept stashed in a kitchen drawer. Once he got the packet ripped open, it was the work of mere seconds to prepare himself. Without further ado, he plunged into Tiff’s warm, wet, welcoming cunt and she immediately went into the paroxysms of yet another climax, squeezing his cock so tightly she dragged him along for the ride. He braced his arms on either side of her slumped body and struggled to breathe.
    They were both a mess. The whipped cream on her nipples had melted and run down her rib cage and belly. By the time Bishop had decided he couldn’t delay his own satisfaction any longer, the whipped cream had become a dandy, slippery lubricant between their sweaty bodies. Inhaling sharply, he leaned over and discarded the condom in the trash can. When he was sure he would be able to carry her, he released the belt around her wrists, hoisted her over one shoulder and headed back upstairs to the master bath. In the wide shower stall designed for two or more, he turned on the water, ran it until it was very warm and gently dumped her directly under the spray. Tiffany snapped out of her muzziness with a snarl.
    “Are you crazy? Now my hair is wet!”
    “I think you’re right,” Bish agreed cheerfully while he squirted liquid soap on a filmy puff.
    She stared at him in disbelief, lost for words. Before she could frame a retort, he proceeded to run the soapy puff all over her body with lusty enthusiasm,

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