The Sweetest Guy

They sat in her parlor lit by two Edison bulbs and a flickering fireplace. Ambrosia watched as Dolce, her new boy toy, popped the top on his soft drink and take a sip. After a moment he let out a satisfied sigh, sounding like someone from an old Pepsi commercial.

She didn't think he looked like the sort of guy who sipped anything. Dolce looked like a man with a wild streak in him. He was roughly lean, the way junkies and bass players were, and she kind of liked the way he dressed. His attire was grunge band meets lazy business casual; dark stonewashed jeans with a black club collar button-up always half-open, showing off his tank top and tattoos. Coupled with his trimmed beard and thick lips that Ambrosia imagined were amazing to kiss, Dolce looked more like a guy who slammed shots back than someone who sipped a soft drink.

He took another sip, and she watched his lips before her eyes trailed down to his Adam's apple as he swallowed. It shouldn't have been sexy. It shouldn't have turned her on, but that didn't stop arousal from blossoming inner chest.

Dolce caught her staring and turned to Ambrosia, his curiosity lit in soft tangerine light. "Is that any good?" She asked.

He nodded. "Most people think it's too sweet, but I like it." He held it out to her. "You wanna' taste?"

Ambrosia thought for a minute before an idea came to her. "Yeah, I think I'll try some." She sat up on the couch, but instead of taking the drink, she moved past Dolce's outreached arm and straddled him. In the dim light, Ambrosia saw a surprised smile come over him before she pressed her lips to his, and a moment later, their tongues were clashing.

Ambrosia pulled away with a smile corkscrewed between her lips. She tasted a sugary-sweet cherry tang that lit up her tastebuds. Ambrosia found that she liked the taste almost as much as she liked being in Dolce's lap, especially with his hand curled around her waist.

She smacked her lips, making a show of deciding whether his cherry kiss tasted good or not. Finally, she looked at him, running her fingers through his hair and telling him, "You're right. It does taste good."

"Told you," He teased. "But maybe you need another taste? You know, just to make sure." Dolce took another sip, then turned to her with a devious expectant look in his eyes. Ambrosia leaned in again, the time tasting something like pineapple. Where had that come from?

She pulled away, pleasantly confused. "Mmmm. You taste different now." She looked to the can, thinking maybe, somehow, he'd grabbed another one. No, it was still the same soft drink.

"It's just me. I'm a sweet boy."

"Oh yeah?" It came out in a dry laugh. "How'd you get so sweet?"

Dolce shrugged. "Dunno. Good genetics, I guess." He leaned up and licked her neck, which sent waves of excitement throughout her body. "What's your excuse?" He asked.

"I'm definitely not sweet." She said. "I probably taste like sweat and dinner food." But Dolce only shook his head.

"No, you taste Devine."

"Definitely not Devine. Nu-uh. Maybe your taste buds are broken."

He sighed, a heavy sound filled with patience. "Good ahead, and stand up for me." Ambrosia cocked her head and looked at him, the universal look for really? But Dolce only encouraged her with a pat on her ass. "Go ahead."

She moved to get up, but Dolce's grip held her tight for a moment. "No, stand up right here?"

"What?" Then she thought she understood. "Like, on the couch?"

He nodded and took another sip while Ambrosia drew her legs up, then slowly got to her feet. Trying to balance the couch cushions was difficult at first, but she finally managed. She found that she enjoyed seeing him like this: his face soft-lit and upturned with those lips of his only inches away from her crotch.

As if reading her mind, Dolce reached up and began fumbling with the button on Ambrosia's shorts. He labored for a moment with one hand, then reached up and handed Ambrosia his drink.

"Could you hold this for me?"

She took it and watched as Dolce worked her shorts open, then drew them down her thighs. She had to hold his head for balance as they came down. When they were at her ankles, Ambrosia stepped out of them, first one leg, then the other, until she was bare from the waist down.

Was it warmer in here? She looked to the fireplace expecting it to be roaring, but its flame was meager. Where was this heat coming from? Maybe it was baking off of her. Maybe Dolce was coaxing a fervor out of her she hadn't anticipated. Maybe.

She watched Dolce eye her pussy before swiping his nose through her bush. Ambrosia let out a surprised laugh as he rummaged around, the way dogs do when they catch a scent. His playfulness tickled her, especially since she hadn't expected it.

Still holding his head, Ambrosia decided to guide him in for a sample. She watched those delicious lips of his open and close over her clit and welcomed the sight. Dolce devoured her, teasing and tasting her hard candy until she moaned and writhed lentils. He nearly spilled his drink.

It felt so good that Ambrosia could barely keep her balance. She tried to open her thighs a little, offering up as much of her to him as she could, but it wasn't exactly easy to balance on the couch, especially with a man's head buried in her crotch.

The sweet boy tried to help. He reached around, gripping her ass, spreading her open, holding her steady, and teasing her asshole with one finger. The thrill of it aroused her so much that Ambrosia began to grind her hips into his face in a slow sensual rhythm.

After a moment, the scent of her excitement wafted up, and she smelled herself. It wasn't the mild musky smell Ambrosia was used to. Sure, she could smell some of that, but it was accompanied by a warm and sweet scent that reminded her of delicious baked goods. Dolce paused to inhale this new aroma. His eyes fluttered, and for a moment, he looked serene, a man who's just tasted the grand chef's magnum opus.

"You taste soooooo good." Dolce drew out the word like pulling a thread. He sounded intoxicated, and his half-hooded eyes reminded her of someone who'd just had a foodgasm.

She couldn't take her eyes off of him. His mouth and tongue felt amazing, but watching Dolce tease her clit and lap at her pussy seemed to dial the sensation up. And didn't that make some kind of strange sense? After all, wasn't it some Roman guy who said people eat with their eyes first?

"Shit," Ambrosia thought. "I must taste good."

She was sweating now, and Ambrosia took a sip of his soft drink. Its taste made her grimace. It wasn't bad, not exactly. It stumbled heavily into bland territory. "Dolce claimed it was sweet," she thought, "Where was that?" Where was the flavor she tasted before when she'd had her tongue in his mouth? Unless it really was his-

Ambrosia came then, and the thought dissolved in her mind like sugar on her tongue. It wasn't a gentle climax. No, she came in a thunderous, thigh-trembling, expletive-screaming, someone please catch me because I'm falling, falling, falling, sort of climax. It raced through her body in a fiery delight that robbed her legs of their strength until they gave out.

Dolce cradled her all the way down until she haft-sat, half-laid in his arms. Without thinking, Ambrosia drew him close and kissed him, tasting the obvious saltiness of her nectar. But bursting from Dolce's tongue was yet another sweet taste. It wasn't the pineapple or cherry from before. No, this time, it was something akin to perfectly ripened strawberries.

Dolce nodded as he pulled his jeans open. The Edison's lights barely illuminated his cock, but Ambrosia saw how hard he was and the silvery thread of precum that dripped from his tip.

He didn't waste any time pulling off his slacks, but where she expected him to open her legs and start fucking her, Dolce maneuvered his cock closer to her mouth. She parted her mouth. Curious, she parted her lips, and the moment his cockhead hit her tongue, Ambrosia's taste buds lit up. How were there so many flavors in one person?

She needed his head between her lips. She licked up and down his shaft. She even sucked his balls, taking her time with each one, savoring their flavors. It was a shame, really. She wished he tasted like coffee. Then she could suck him off in the morning until she was wide awake. Even without the caffeine, Ambrosia was sure it would wake up. She'd always had a thing for dark, hot, and sweet things in her mouth.

She spat down onto his cock before stroking him in those wild corkscrew ways that drove guys crazy. Her hands and her face were glossy, and she felt a sugar rush coming over her. When dolce finally climaxed, it was no surprise that his cum was syrupy and delicious. Ambrosia kept stroking him, squeezing out everything he had onto her tongue.

"Wow," she said after swallowing his loaded, giving him a sated smile. "You really are sweet." Ambrosia smacked her lips, still tasting his sweet tang, before playfully asking. "Was your father the fucking Candyman?"

"Bazooka Joe," he corrected, then put a hand over one eye. That had them both laughing.