Valentine's Dinner for Two

"Undo my bra," she moaned, lifting up towards him.

He obeyed, reaching behind her. She was pleased that he did not fumble at all with the hooks, and even happier to be free of the constricting device. His feelings were apparent, as he immediately flipped the garment behind him. He paused for just a moment to admire how her tits stood upright on her chest.

"Just like a teenager," he thought out loud.

"But experienced enough to know what I want," she growled in response.

She again grabbed his head by the hair and drew him down, burying his face in her cleavage. This time, he was submerged in the middle, a heaving boob rubbing up against each ear as his tongue explored the exact midpoint.

Her legs and elbows continued rocking their pelvises together. His hands slid up her back, finding a fresh grip on her shoulders, driving them together harder and faster. To ease the ache of her nipples, she awkwardly shifted so that her fingertips tweaked her own peaks. Tingly preorgasmic waves surged to her pussy.

'Ohmigawd, I hope he doesn't come in his pants, that would be so embarrassing,' she thought as she gasped for air, 'not to mention how it would get in the way of a really good hard fuck, which I am going to need desperately, and soon.'

She pulled his head up out of her chest so quickly that his tongue was flicking into the air like a salamander. He struggled against her control just enough to give her a quick whisker burn on the inner slopes of each tit, and bobble each nipple quickly on the tip of his tongue. After that, the force of her arms dragged his nose even with hers. He playfully rubbed noses, making her giggle.

"Dessert," she commanded, but her sense of control was precarious, as his lips met hers, and then his tongue was fucking her mouth.

She tried to break her mouth free but he slid a hand along her chin, keeping her in place. She knew that no amount of ice would prevent her lips from swelling now, so she surrendered in the moment, raising her head up ferociously, teeth clicking against each other. She felt his free hand travel from her shoulder to her chest. He mauled her tit roughly, squeezing and kneading the flesh, and then rolled the nipple tightly between two fingers. She sensed what was coming next, but her mouth was too full of tongue to allow a scream before he straightened his body upright, allowing space and leverage to pull her nub away from the mound of flesh, stretching the rubbery bit at least double its usual length. He finished the treat by giving it a brisk twist around.

"Ohhhhh...fuuuuck," she finally screamed as his straightening pulled his head from hers. Her hips thumped up and down on the countertop as her climax flooded them with her ambrosia.

She lay there for a moment panting, admiring his goofy grin, impressed with his boyish eagerness to please. Though she realized that his attitude could shift quickly, that she could never make the mistake of thinking she was completely in control. 'Perhaps," she heard herself say to herself, 'that's what true love is -- not being afraid to surrender control, because you know it's a gift you will get back.'

What she said out loud was, "I know you would rather eat me, but the mousse is going to melt."

Humour was a simple mask to deflect her attention away from the depth of her own emotions. She could feel that he was harder than ever. An erect cock though was just evidence of lust, not of love. She thought quickly about games she could play to test him, but discarded that whole notion for the time being, wanting a good fucking more than she cared about whether it meant more.

"Do you think I need the aphrodisiac effect of the chocolate?" he said, stepping back, since her leg lock behind his ass had relaxed in her afterglow.

His hands were still casually caressing her, roaming her upper body in random curves, occasionally pushing her nipples from odd angles. She wondered if he knew what this was doing to her, the combination of aftershocks and the greater building up of desire, ready to burst if he did not fuck her soon. She understood his passion to eat pussy, but tonight, she was hungry for meat.

Not meat to eat either, so sixty-nine was not his lucky number, at least not just yet. She needed his hard fat love rocket stuffed inside of her like she was the Thanksgiving turkey. She longed for that throbbing sensation as his shaft pushed out against the walls of her pussy; the involuntary reaction of her muscles clamping tightly around the base, trying to fight the in and out; and especially the spasming mushroom shaped head blasting great gobs of goo deep within. None of this was available from her own fingers, dildos or vibrators.

Sometimes only real meat would do. Just thinking about the special sensations started another orgasm rocking up from her toes this time, heating her entire body as her pussy gushed.

He sniffed at the air, savouring the scent. "You look like a wolf when you do that," she giggled.

"This wolf is going to eat you," he growled.

"Not here," she replied, sliding off the counter before he could lower his head to her vulva. "Chocolate mousse, remember."

Gravity pulled her down right into his body, causing her wet loins to rub swiftly against the tented fabric of his trousers. The friction added zing to the aftershocks surging through her body. The feel of his shirt again against her rock hard nipples added to her pleasure.

"Feels like this has been good for you," he said, feeling her wetness drenching him right through the fabric.

"Shut up and kiss me," she replied, placing her right hand behind his neck and drawing his head down so that their lips met. She opened her mouth just as his tongue clicked against her teeth, nipping playfully at that sensitive organ.

"Ouch," he groaned, pulling back. "I hope you don't do that to my cock."

"Will if I wanna," she chuckled, "and who says I'm going to kiss your cock? I just wanted to cool your jets so you don't come in your pants before I serve dessert."

"Well, wolves bite too, and I've still got you where I want you," he said, bumping her back against the edge of the counter, his hardness urgent against her abdomen. He swiftly dipped his upper body and bit down on the soft skin of her shoulder.

"Oops," he said as she moaned, 'I guess you'll need to avoid sleeveless for a few days."

She retaliated by slapping his ass, hard enough that he pushed forward, grinding fabric harder against flesh.

"You're bad," she giggled.

"Don't ever forget it."

They seemed to both realize just then that he was holding her by both wrists, and with her pinned against the cabinets, he was in total control. Of course, in order to fuck her, his pants needed to be unzipped, which would mean giving up control. He looked left. He looked right. Her eyes followed.

"Mousse?" the both said together, and then they both replied "Truce?"

She rose up on tiptoes, leaning her pelvis back, drawing in her breath to create about enough space to pass a sheet of paper through between them. She playfully kissed the tip of his nose before lowering herself back to the floor. This relaxed him momentarily, so she quickly spun in his weakened grasp.

Her ass bummed his groin, grinding briefly into his erection. He pulled her tight, enjoying the friction. Again, though, this was a distraction.

"Be careful, remember, we don't want you to waste that cream," she laughed, spreading his arms wide, straightening, and then pulling his hands down and inward. This forced him to stagger back to keep his balance, and resulted in him releasing her.

She grabbed the two dishes of dessert off the counter and slid past his outstretched arms, ducking and then twitched her ass as she walked out of the kitchen.

"Nice ass," he muttered.

"Come and get it," she called over her shoulder as she walked to the bearskin hearth rug and settled onto her knees.

He could not help noticing how gorgeous her naked ass was, jutting in the air towards him, perfectly framed by the frilly garter belt tight around her trim waist, the vertical run of the lycra lacy garters drawing the eyes down to where the rose pattern at the top of each stocking encircled the thigh, stopping his gazing with the roundness centered in his view. She seemed to hold that position just for a few extra heart beats, turning and watching him watch her, still balancing the two dessert dishes. She smiled, the flames from the fireplace creating a glow on her flesh, as she settled into a squat, two thirds turned from him, the desserts carefully placed on either side of the rug.

Her modest firm tits jiggled as she moved, and when her body came to rest, he was at a perfect angle to notice how her nipples bounced upwards one extra time before settling, motionless, but perky, angled invitingly upwards, as if begging to be sucked. The side view also caused him to pause momentarily as he stepped through the doorway, amazed by the engineering of how muscles under the arm form together to support the weight of the breast, moving with each breath. He also noticed that she obviously enjoyed him watching, because her nipples were swelling even larger. Though the nipples were already stiff, the areolae were now puffier than earlier, standing out from the weight of each tit.

She smiled up at him. "Dessert?" she asked again, this time in a lower, seductive voice, implying but not speaking that she was part of the menu.

"I still have all my clothes on," he muttered, looking down at himself.

"Well, take them off, then. I want you to be comfy."

Buttons popped as he tried to walk and strip at the same time. She carefully controlled her breathing, holding air deep in her belly so as not to ruin his mood by laughing. Somehow, his awkwardness was a huge turn on for her, maybe as much as the size of the erection straining against his pants. As he fumbled with his belt, she decided that seeing him excited and clumsy was a perfect combination, especially knowing that, as he had demonstrated in the kitchen, once he got over to her, he would perform with passion and dexterity.

His shadow loomed over her as he stopped by the rug and finally unzipped his pants. She giggled at the oddity of how a cock wants to be free, yet its very urgency makes undoing the pants so difficult. Her nipples tingled in anticipation and despite the heat of the fire; a shiver ran through her body.

He stood still above her, and she realized what he was waiting for. She was grateful for her years of ballet training which allowed her to rise up smoothly and gracefully balance as she reached up and unfastened the button at his waist. The weight of his cock did the rest of the work, pushing trough the zipper, forcing his pants open, and then they puddled around his ankles.

"Is that for me?" she chuckled as the mushroom head poked out of his underwear.

He resumed control over his body sufficiently to nudge his briefs down, allowing his equipment to dangle in full view inches from her angelic face. She giggled again as the tenseness of his abs made his cockhead bob up and down as if nodding that, yes, it was hers.

"It looks friendly enough," she said.

Still not touching him, she rose slowly, closing the gap between her face and his groin. She was close enough to feel the heat of his loins warming her face as much as the fireplace behind her was warming her back. Again, she was aware that her excitement was building, dampness seeping further down her legs, drenching her almost to her knees. Almost anything could trigger another climax when she was this aroused. It required all of her remaining willpower not to caress her own nipple, because if she did that, she knew that her next move would be to lean back on the rug and slide a finger along her cunt, and that would lead to her finger fucking herself until her entire fist was buried in her womb or her orgasm came. Although he might enjoy that show, and fuck her afterwards, it would be selfish, and she wanted hard cock, now.

All thoughts of melting mousse were forgotten as she reached upward and touched his manhood.

"Looks tasty," she slurred, suddenly drunk with hormones.

She wrapped her delicate fingers around the throbbing rod and gave it one long slow stroke from root to rim. The slit in the tip gaped open and shut in time with his heartbeats.

"It's winking at me," she giggled.

A drop of precum oozed out, glistening in the firelight. Her tongue flicked out, capturing the pearly droplet just before it fell. This time, it was his body shaking with electricity, flowing from his cock up his torso to his fingertips, and down to his toes. He tilted forward, driving the helmet past her lips, bumping against her teeth before she could open wide even to accommodate his girth.

His momentum slid his entire length into her throat as she dropped her jaw and relaxed her ligaments, enjoying the fullness. She cupped her hands around his butt, holding him in place, closing her lips to seal around the base and sucking until the inside of both cheeks caressed his flesh. One hand followed the curve of his ass, teasing his dark valley, but not stopping until she held the weight of his balls in her palm. She squeezed gently, but could tell that if she kneaded them more, they would unload, shooting great gobs of goo down her throat.

"I want you to come inside my cunt before you come in my mouth," she panted as she sat back and spit him out.

"What about the chocolate?" he asked.

"What about..." she began to ask, but stopped, breaking into a grin.

She held his cock in one hand as she reached with the other and dipped her fingers into one of the dishes. They emerged coated in chocolate, which she dropped on the top of his cockhead. Like a little kid finger-painting, she spread the mess around the mushroom, down the underside of his shaft, coated his balls, and spiralled back up to the tip.

"I hope you are intending to clean up that mess."

"Of course," she laughed, but before she began, she released her grip on her cock and rocked backwards. With amazing grace, she scoped two handfuls out of the dessert dishes as she fell back onto the bearskin rug. Her hands flashed up to cover her tits as she came to rest, her head propped up on the dead beast's snout.

"Your eyes look like they are ready to pop out of your head," she teased as she revealed that each nipple was crowned with a gob of chocolate mousse. His only reply was his tongue flicking across his lower lip, his jaw still slack. His cock was polite enough to bob up and down as if saying hello, finally coming to rest even more upright than earlier.

Her hands immediately ran down her stomach, leaving a smear of brown goodness, reuniting at her vulva, which she circled, and then her hands came to rest on her thighs. She drew her ankles inward as she shifted her hands to her knees, spreading them apart slowly as they rose upwards.

"Your dessert is ready...what are you waiting for?" she taunted.

He remained speechless for a moment, answering by casting his eyes down not at the messy treats of her taut flesh but rather at his own chocolate covered appendage. He added an exclamation point by waving his palm just beside his helmet.

Then he found his voice. "What about this?"

She pouted theatrically, as if upset that he hadn't just dived into her offering, but she was not that good an actress, and her giggles quickly bubbled back up.

"Well, I just assumed that we would both eat our dessert at the same time," she said.

He closed the gap in a single step and dropped to his knees on the edge of the rug. Her upraised legs threatened to box his ears. He was too busy drooling over the beautiful treat that she was offering to notice, or move for that matter.

"You need to get your head down there, but your cock over here," she coached.

To move matters along, she dropped one knee and placed a hand just above his waist, and then ran her palm down the back of his leg. He automatically shifted his stance, allowing her to grab a good grip and steer his leg over hers. An awkward horizontal ballet followed, provoking much muttering from him and more giggling from her but finally, his cock brushed her chin and his breath was bathing her thighs.

Her tongue again flicked across his tip, but he still was not done talking.

"But this way, how do I clean your nipples?" he asked.

If his head was facing her, he would have seen the rolling eyes that matched her sigh. At least the warmth made his rod waggle appreciatively, returning the smile to her face. She took a quick taste of chocolate mousse off his glans before replying.

"You can lick them later. It'll be good to get you excited for round two."

She ran her tongue across her teeth, liked the taste, and nibbled a bit more.

"Round two?" he croaked.

"That's where you get hard after you come in my cunt, and I suck you, except the second time, I let you come in my mouth, while you eat my creamy cunt."

"Is there a round three?" he asked.

"Why, afraid you aren't up for it? Round three might be when we cuddle, just kissing and swapping mouthfuls, how better to fully share. But we'll never find out if we don't get to round one soon, and we still are stuck at the foreplay."

With that, she grabbed a hunk of his hair and shoved his face deep into her valley, swallowing his entire length while she was at it. Luckily, his instinct was to open his mouth -- or maybe he was just about to waste more time talking- so his tongue quickly found her love button, which was as erect as a small cock, upright, an island of flesh in a pool of juices washing over the banks of her labia.

He did not stop there. Unlike the guys who think 'a little teeth, a little tongue, the work is done', he took his time. She would never know how long he worked. For the first time in her life she truly knew what 'time stood still' meant. After drawing her clit between his lips, he closed his mouth around it and drew it deep onto his tongue. Only then did his teeth tease the flesh, at the very bottom. His fingers spreading her cunt lips further apart, and then pistoning into her added to her pleasure.

The trapped nubbin bobbled inside his cheek while he maintained suction around the base. As he drew back, stretching her flesh, his tongue began rotating, corkscrewing her love button while pumping it deeper and then relaxing just a bit. She felt his lips open a tad as he slurped her juices into his mouth, her essence washing around her clit just like she was jilling off, but this time, with the added thrill of a whirlpool effect. She was so busy trying not to scream just yet that she barely noticed when he carefully snuck a finger beneath her heaving hips, easing into the dark valley of her ass. If her mouth had not been full of cock, she have would bitten down on her lip as he pierced her anal ring and waggled that digit.

"Ouch," he said, breaking the spell as she suddenly realized that she had clamped her teeth into his flesh. "I suppose that's one way to make sure I don't come in your mouth before we fuck."

She slapped him playfully and then again took his head by the hair and pushed him into her waiting pussy. This time, he did not draw her fully into his mouth. Instead, he bobbled the clit from side to side, alternating with long slow vertical lapping up and then down the length of her gash. She did not notice at exactly what point he replaced the finger in her ass with a thumb, but she loved the fullness.

Her breath bathed his cock in ragged bursts as he paused to give her time to resist, or to accept his thrust. When she began to rock her hips, thrusting against his hand, he pumped inwards, slowly at first, not wanting to hurt her, but she would having none of that. She shoved her ass aggressively against the thumb which was impaling her.