Yellow Belly

Peta/Sam

Act 2, Chapter 6

Sam's family seemed to like custard a bit too much for Peta's liking. It was present at every dinner thus far. Sam, on the other hand, seemed to avoid it to the extent that he would seat himself the furthest away from the brightly colored jug used to pour the steaming yellow stuff.

"I've never liked the hot custard Mum serves," he told Peta as they all sat down for dinner that evening. "It's always been a real bugbear of mine."

"You're just fussy," his mother scolded. "Pass the apple pie, please."

Sam rolled his eyes as he passed the tray over. "You see, I can't have a different point of view," he said to Peta. "I'm the family socialist."

"Arch-socialist," Sam's father said, winking at Peta. "He's so far to the left he's sitting next to me."

"I am sitting next to you," Sam pointed out.

Peta laughed. The family interactions were always fun. Until Sam's grumpy sister showed. Today, she was out, which was somewhat of a relief.

"We're going to head out to the pub. Do you two want to come?" Sam's father asked.

Sam shook his head. "We've made our own plans," he said, standing up and starting to clear the table.

"Oh, okay," Sam's father said, winking at Sam this time.

"Dad, you really need to get that eye checked," Sam said, not getting it.

Peta and his father looked at each other and burst out laughing.

Sam's mother bustled back in. She always had a major fear of missing out on things. "What? What did I miss?"

"Nothing, dear," Sam's father replied. "We'll take the dog, if you do go out, put the alarm on."

"No worries," Sam responded, taking the dishes to the kitchen.

Peta grabbed some of the cutlery and joined him to help with the washing up. She stood next to him and playfully blew a few bubbles from the sink into his face.

"Stop that," he laughed. "What do you want to do tonight?"

"I have a few ideas," Peta said, and whispered in his ear.

Sam went bright red.

"Yeah, sure," he mumbled, washing the dishes a little harder. "We can totally do that."

They waited until Sam's parents had left the house. "Okay," Peta said. "I need you to go to the living room and stay there until I tell you to come up to your bedroom. Okay?"

"Okay," Sam said, practically running to the living room. Peta laughed, and once he was out of sight, grabbed the bowl of custard and the ladle with it.

She went up the stairs, went to his bed, grabbed his red tie off the back of his chair as she went. Peta closed the curtains - she didn't want the boy in the opposite house to get a glimpse of this again, thank you - and she stripped off, throwing her clothes around the room deliberately.

Lying on the bed, she took the ladle and carefully checked the temperature of the custard. It was now lukewarm, which was perfect. She scooped up a bit more, and then carefully dropped a little over her breasts, covering her nipples. It spread out, dropping a few little yellow dots onto the bed by her sides.

"We're going to wash these anyway," she told herself, and scooped a little more, this time depositing a small amount into her belly button. Finally, she poured a tiny amount just above the top of her clit, and then put the ladle back in the bowl. She tied the tie up into a loop and then placed it around her head, covering her eyes.

"Sam," she called out. "I'm ready for you. Come on up!"

She could hear frantic running and then fast, heavy footsteps running up the stairs. She laughed and giggled a little as the custard dripped down over her clit and between her thighs.

She heard the door open and a gasp. Then, "Is that custard?"

"Ja. You will have to lick it off if you want to see more of me," she said playfully.

There was a pause and a shuffling across the carpet. Then,

"OHHHH," Peta said, gasping, as she felt a tongue start to lick at her left breast's nipple. "Ja, das ist gut," she said, as the tongue licked away the custard, then the entire mouth enveloped her nipple and areola. "I thought you didn't like custard," she asked, as the tongue went to town on her right breast now.

"I don't," she heard Sam say, between gulps and licks and rummaging around the bed, "but for you, and to get at your body, I will do anything." Peta giggled, and then laughed as his tongue found her belly button, teasing her, tickling her, then sucked the rest of the custard out with ease.

"Now you must go down on me," Peta said gleefully. Sam had always been a bit reluctant to do this, so she had him in her sights now. She felt his hands pry apart her thighs, and his tongue started licking the inside of them, each side.

The sound of the licks and slurps and gasps was turning her on, and as his tongue finally started to lick her clit and flaps, Peta felt herself blush, and goosebumps rise all over her. Sam was really going for it now, and she gasped as his tongue parted her lips.

"Sam, keep going," Peta urged, her fingernails digging into the sheets as he licked her, holding her thighs apart as his mouth started to suck on her. "Oh, mein Gott," she moaned, as he licked every bit of custard from her.

"Okay," Sam said, climbing onto the bed and straddling her midriff. "Now it's my turn."

"Ja?" Peta said, still blindfolded. "What are you going to do?"

She heard a tink from what must have been the custard bowl, and felt a few drips of custard drop onto her stomach and breasts. Then, Sam lifted her up and she was sitting up on the bed.

Something wet brushed her lips. Peta laughed. "You didn't," she said, putting her hand out. Sam guided her hand and she grabbed his shaft, which was sticky. "Oh, you," Peta laughed. "You covered your dick in custard."

"I covered my dick in custard," Sam laughed, and then moaned as Peta sucked him, licking every bit of custard from his shaft, and enjoying circling his tip with her tongue. "Did I get all of it?" she said playfully.

"You did," Sam admitted, climbing back down the bed, "now... you're going to get my custard."

Peta laughed loudly, then gasped as he spread her legs and pushed his slippery penis inside her. "Oh, Sam," she said, pulling him close and taking off the blindfold, "don't stop." He fucked her, missionary, kissing her neck and biting her lips as he ground his hard erection inside of her.

Peta began to sway her hips with him, and the rhythm of the movements began to push the bed against the wall, a small thud at first turning into louder and louder banging. Peta threw her head back and gasped as Sam fucked her, and then,

"I'm going to come," he gasped.

"Can you hold on," Peta said, "let me change position." Sam pulled out, and she turned over, raising her bottom up to meet his erection. Burning, Sam grabbed her buttocks and entered her, the slight curve of his penis forcing her down into the bedsheets, splaying her breasts out.

Every thump down into the sheets rocked the bed, and finally, with a guttural moan, Peta came, her come wettening them both and dripping onto the sheets.

That was Sam's cue, and he pulled out, furiously rubbing his shaft, and he came over Peta's buttocks and back. Peta squealed with delight, and looked back at Sam, red in the face, and breathing deeply, grinning.

"You're so good, Peta," he said, bending down over her and kissing her deeply.

"Ja, I know," she teased. "You are too. That was sooooo good."

"Who knew custard could make sex that much better," Sam murmured.

"I did," Peta shrugged. "You desired me and I made a barrier to having me."

"Ha," Sam laughed, "that's what you think. I was tempted to just put it inside you and fuck you through the custard."

Peta gave a look of mock outrage. "And waste all that custard?" she said.

"Mein Gott!"