Cherry Glaze

Cherry Glaze

[I was challenged to write an erotic story about cherries. I accepted; I'll let you decide how well. -GM]

I walked down Rue Saint-Paul, weaving between tourists on the old town street, until I reached Rue Saint-Gabriel. Just past the steakhouse was an unmarked door, which I found cracked open for air. It was a well-equipped bakery that the owner rented out to various caterers who needed a commercial-grade space to work in.

I slipped inside and down the brick hallway until I found the kitchen. As I figured, Sophie was there, making cheesecakes for a corporate party in Milton Park. She made a not inconsiderable salary from catering to wealthy business types, and she deserved it. Cheesecakes were her specialty, and when I say she took them seriously, I mean she had a painter's pallet knife which she heated in simmering water, quickly dried on a tea towel, and used to smooth the tops of the cheesecakes until they were absolutely flawless. She was leaning over the table, back to me.

"Bonjour!" I called.

She turned around. She was of French descent, a bit shorter than me, with thick chestnut hair below her shoulders, big dark eyes, and the freckles over her cheeks that so many of the Quebecoise had. She wore an old tee shirt and denim shorts and had smudges of flour on her face and in her hair.

"Oh, it's you!" she said. "What are you doing in here?" She probably knew the answer.

"Taking a break from writing."

"Getting into trouble, you mean?"

"I need something to write about," I said with a wink. "The master is at work, I see. Almost done?"

"I just need to glaze them," she said. A dozen cheesecakes were lined up on the table. One of them was fire engine red.

"What's that one?" I asked.

"That's white chocolate with a cherry mirror glaze."

She had one of the cakes on a rack over a pan. She poured a pitcher of glaze over the cake -- it looked like molten red wax, and nearly as shiny as a mirror. She added a big black cherry on top.

"Before you ask," she said because, in my curiosity, I always asked, "it's cherries, lemon juice, and caster sugar. In a blender, I mean. Then simmered."

She picked up a big mason jar full of cherries in a red liquid. She had that little glint in her eye, and if you've never seen it in the eye of a Quebecoise, you need to remedy that.

She pulled a cherry from the jar and put it to my lips with a smile. I kept my eyes locked on hers as I chewed it. It was sweet and tart and I suddenly noticed that it numbed my tongue.

"What's in that jar?" I asked.

"Vodka," she laughed.

She dabbed some of the cherry vodka on my lips and licked it off with a grin.

That's all I could stand. I kissed her hard, hands going behind her, cupping her ass and pulling her tightly against me. Then I left a trail of hot cherry kisses up the side of her neck to her ear.

"Oh, god...I've gotta finish this!" she groaned.

"You started it," I purred into her ear before nibbling the lobe. There was no way I'd let this little French delicacy get away.

I kneaded her ass as I kissed her and she got her hands under my tee, stroking my back and waist. I pulled her shirt over her head and kissed down her neck to between her breasts, backing her against the table, and she reached behind and unclasped her bra. I reached over and put two fingers into the pitcher with the glaze -- it was lukewarm.

"Hey!" she said.

I took my glowing red fingers out and slowly glazed one of her nipples, which quickly hardened as she let out a little whimper and bit her lip.

I bent over and slowly licked the glaze from her tight skin -- it was extremely sweet, but I could still taste vodka. Her nipple was hard and I slowly sucked it and tongued in wet circles. She had her eyes tights shut and was breathing heavily. I glazed her other nipple and went to work cleaning it off, teasing her other nipple with my sticky fingers.

She unbuttoned her shorts -- we pulled them down together, and I reached down with my fingers apart and slowly spread the glaze over her warm, soft lips on either side of her clit.

She kissed me hard but I pulled away and knelt in front of her. She had a little strip of hair over the mound. I licked the glazing from her lips and she let out a low moan. I took each lip gently and sucked it clean, teased her delicate inner lips with the tip of my tongue, then up and back over the stem, and finally dipped my tongue inside her. She was wet and warm and everything tasted like cherries.

With two fingers I pulled the hood over her clit taunt and massaged with the tip of my tongue. Now she bucked her hips, rubbing her clit against my tongue, and I kept time with her, lapping over the swollen tip. Finally I slipped two clean fingers inside her -- she was dripping wet -- and thrust in deeply as I licked her clit firmly. She let go of my head and grabbed the edge of the table, pushing back against my fingers with little grunts.

She didn't last very long -- just whined, "Oh, god" and came hard, panting, and she would've collapsed to the floor if she wasn't braced against the table.

She pulled me up and kissed me, then fumbled at my belt buckle and zipper; I didn't help because I loved watching her do that. She pulled down my jeans and dropped to her knees.

She took my hard cock by the root and smeared it up and down with glaze, then laughed as she looked at it. "It looks like a glazed frozen banana!" She'd made those plenty of times.

Then she slowly licked and sucked the glaze from the entire length, pumping it slowly as she went. When she concentrated on the swollen head, it was so intense that I winced a little. Then, when she saw that she'd licked it clean, she sucked it slowly, letting it slip into her throat and back out while she fondled my balls in her warm hand. Her other hand was between her legs, working furiously. I let out a little whimper.

"Mmmmmm," she mumbled, as if to say, "Awwww!" She enjoyed teasing. And she never failed to get complete control of me.

Without knowing it I'd started gently thrusting into her mouth, and she picked up the rhythm and thrust back, pumping the root of my cock while I slipped in and out of her mouth with her tongue tight against the shaft. Finally, I came hard, panting as I pumped it all into her mouth, and she was moaning as she came, too.

We rested a moment, and she was breathing heavily and giving my cock little wet, almost absentminded kisses. Then she stood up and pulled up her shorts.

"Bon sang! Now look what you did!"

"Oh, I did that, huh?"

"I can't remember what I was doing. And I have to get it done."

"You were glazing cheesecakes," I said. "And I only distracted you for a few minutes."

She was looking around, trying to figure out just where she'd left off.

"Now I've got to think straight. You're bad for business."

"I'll get out of the way. Meet me for dinner at Papillon tonight."

"You're supposed to buy me dinner beforehand," she laughed.

"It will be before. We're not done yet."

"I can be there at seven."

"Á plus tard."

"Now beat it before I get to the chocolate ganache. If you're still here, it's going to be a huge mess."