tagFetishSweet Strawberry Cream

Sweet Strawberry Cream

byAlice Wells©

To Kurt, with love.

* * * * *

"You want to try something new?"

I opened my eyes and focused on him through the sweat-dampened hair plastered across my face. He stood by the bed naked with a glass of water he'd just gotten in the bathroom. His voice had the same tone as if he was asking about the soup of the day, or the weather.


"Do you want to try something new?"

He went to the dresser, and started to sort through the panty drawer. He turned back around with pink nylons in his hand, then came back to the bed where I could see them.

"You want me to put them on?"

"No dummy."

He leaned down to kiss me, a hand on either side of my head. I realized what he meant when I felt the pressure against my throat; he held the soft cord he'd made between his fists. Tingling pleasure stirred between my legs; he thrust his tongue against mine. Without trying he held it until I moved my hand up to push him away, gasping for air as soon as his mouth was off of mine.

His fingers were already between my legs, palm against my clit while his index and middle were gauging my body's reaction. I squirmed; he kissed me again without the nylons, working his fingers in and curling them. I moaned my appreciation for the gesture.

"So what do you think?"

"Isn't it kind of dangerous?"

"Not unless you do it the same way every time."

He probably had thought about it a lot, beyond just reading "Rising Sun." I turned over and reached over to the other bedstand to get a cigarette and light it. It was either a fetish or a bad sign, we'd only been fucking for a few weeks. He gave me a smack across the ass.

"I'm going to get some ice cream, think about it."

I turned to watch him leave, still naked. I caught my own eye in the full length mirrored closet doors across from me. I bent my knees and swung them lazily, watching the reflection. I barely noticed him when he came back in, carrying a pint of Strawberry.

He didn't ask, so I didn't answer. He sat down by my waist, I watched in the mirrors in reverse. The cap came off the ice cream, he sat it down in the bedside after licking it clean. The whole time he was gone he'd probably had it sitting in a warm bowl of water, because it was half melted. He drizzled it down my spine, letting some puddle at my lower back.

I watched him set it aside and climb up onto the bed, straddling my legs and licking up my back to my shoulder blades. I shivered, nipples hard and sensitive against the comforter I lay on. He dragged his nails down over my ribs and my sides, sending a shudder of pleasure through my body. I moaned for him, watching my own eyes as my voice lifted up.

He brushed the hair off of my face and I watched him look at my gaze, then at my reflection where it was fastened. He smiled and dipped his fingers into the ice cream and spread it over the back of my neck. Goose bumps came up on my skin as he kissed it away. I watched him smile again; he scooped up more of the cold strawberry flavored joy and dripped it down into my ass crack, holding me while I squirmed.

He met my eyes again in the mirror, before palming each cheek and pulling them apart. I lifted myself up to his mouth with anticipation, losing sight of myself as he dragged his teeth up my thigh. My toes curled, fireworks exploded into my brain. He pinched my nipples, then his tongue was in my mouth where I could taste him, taste myself, and the sweet berry cream.

Then the nylons were inches from my face, I looked up to see him meeting my eyes in the mirror. Without thinking twice, I nodded. His fingers pushed the nylons under my neck without moving me, then he crossed them at my nape. Minutes passed as he moved my hair out of the way, so it wouldn't be knotted. In each hand he held the opposite end, and he tested it. Pulling it tighter, then readjusting and trying again.

"Just relax."

He took a pillow and worked it under my abdomen. I lifted myself to ease it, and he kissed my sides. He kissed my ass, my thighs and then my neck. His cock lingered at my labia, pressing in and then withdrawing. Then deeper, with his breath against my shoulders, then penetrating me, pulling lightly at the soft cord. I watched him as he concentrated, wrapping the hose around one hand and holding himself up with the other.

Anticipation gripped my stomach; he slowly found his rhythm. I could feel his balls on my clit as they followed his movements, and the brush of his pubic hair as he shifted. Soft sounds, half moans, worked their way into my breathing. He pulled back on the nylon, with more pressure now, until my breath broke off.

"You like that don't you? I can feel how wet you are."

His thrusts grew harder but he kept the same pace, closing my airway and then opening it. Letting the cloth go so slack that I couldn't feel its featherlight touch. I don't know when I started, but I realized I was crying. He stroked my hair, whispering softly, pushing deeper, until his breath was labored.

"It's good to cry. Let it out. You're okay."

I watched myself as he pulled back all the way, I saw how it dug into my skin. His movements picked up, his sweat scented the air heavily. I saw it as a fog, white, hanging over me as I started to pass out. My hands and feet felt like lead, but pleasure crept up my spine like slow liquid lightning.

And then my body was gone, my lips tingled and an orgasm ripped through me like a housefire. I could feel everything, down to the last drop of moisture and my last bit of air stuck in my throat. The tears, his hands, the sticky ice cream still spread out on my back. The mirrors, his finger nails, and the sweet delicious strawberry scent.

"Wake up."


"You've been out for awhile. I was starting to get worried."


"I think it's going to leave a mark."

I opened my eyes, watching him looking at me. My hair was wet, plastered across my face. I was limp, my entire body ached and my neck screamed. My lips were dry, parched, and he kissed them. He turned me over and snuggled up, stroking my stomach, breasts, and thighs. My voice barely worked.

"Lets do that again sometime."

"Tomorrow. In the tub."


And I was asleep.

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byAlice Wells© 0 comments/ 34497 views/ 5 favorites

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