Teatime

I just pant and moan in response to you, grinding my little pussy against your cock and into the palm you've slipped between us.

"I'm gonna cum," I tell you, urgently. "Please let me cum on your fucking cock!""

You don't say anything.

You don't need to. I can feel you tensing and your pace quickly becomes erratic. Forcefully, you pin me so my cheek is pressed hard against the tablecloth and brutally pound me in my tight, aching, young cunt. Finally announce your impending climax, but I'm too lost in my own to hear it. My whole body quivers as I cum, and my muscles clench wildly around you. Even as you fill me, you continue to thrust, consumed by the feel of such warmth and heat.

"It's so good sir..." I pant happily, though I have a strawberry tart pressed against my wrist.

I raise my ass in the air for you and push back on your cock with each slow thrust. You just groan, and spank my already sore bottom. Your hands grip my hips firmly, and when you pull out, I feel cum running down the inside of my thighs. I stay on my stomach, breathing hard, and waiting for your next move.

"Get up," you grunt breathlessly. "You're ruining the tablecloth."

I turn over onto my back and stare up at my Mad Hatter. You're giving me that little know-it-all smirk I've grown to love and I can see your cock is covered with a mix of our juices. I sit up obediently and lean down to suck it off. You shiver at the feel of my suction on your sensitive dick, but take me by surprise though, when you plant a kiss on my wet lips. You dip your tongue into my mouth and come back up with a taste of me.

Rather ungracefully, and in direct contradiction with what you've just said to me, you wipe your cock against the tablecloth before pulling your briefs and trousers back on. I slump back on the table, exhausted, and let out a sigh.

"Poe wrote on them," I say, lazily.

You adjust your bowtie and the sleeves of your jacket before looking back down on me.

"What?" you ask.

"Dear hatter," I pull my skirts down and smile. "you inquired of your Alice...'how is a raven like a writing desk?' I'm saying, Poe wrote on them both."

You stare at me for a long while, the wheels turning in your head this time. For a moment, I swear I see a stain of blush on your cheeks, but it disappears when you kick open my present box.

You won't be bested.

Before I have time to jump down from the table, you yank the gift from its wrapping paper.

My eyes widen as you hold it up.

A white, Rabbit vibrator.

There's a gift tag on it that says, lovingly, "a Rabbit for your little holes."

I'm completely unamused.

Fiercely, you grab a fist full of my hair and growl, "Turn over."