Eyl 09

Fruit Cup

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Arthur appeared one Friday evening at Sandy’s door carrying a small woven basket.

“Good evening, Princess, I come bearing gifts.”

“You didn’t have to–you’ve always come without them,” she smiled, embracing him with a bearhug and a deep-tongued kiss. He responded in kind, leaving the basket on a side table and wrapping his arms around her firm back. Their lips met again, he gripped her firmly and tilted backwards, sucking her breath away as he did so. Sandy’s head spun at the sudden weightlessness and lack of air. He was slim and yet so strong, so gentle, so touching, so right.

Arthur let her down and shared smiles as she shook her head. He stroked her chin and let his hands slide down over her tee shirt, tracing the upturn of her breasts to her nipples. There he dallied, lightly stroking and pinching the peaks as they hardened, Sandy sighed and the two lovers kissed and licked each other’s cheeks and ears.

Arthur could feel his cock thickening beneath his shorts. “Shall we go upstairs or just collapse on the stairway?”

“Ohh,” she sighed, labia swelling beneath her skirt and belly. “What’s in the basket?”

“For that we need something more romantic than a staircase.”

“Come on, then,” Sandy hugged and kissed him again, grabbed the basket and led up the stairs.

In her room, the windows were open and a breeze wafted in from the sea, bearing the sound of the tide on the beach and the smell of salt, sand, and rosehips. The bedside lamp glowed a mellowed yellow white as they entered, arms around each other’s waist, kissing and nipping one another on lips, eyebrows, cheeks, and ears.

“You’re hungry tonight, good thing I brought plenty of food.”

“I’ve got what I want,” she replied, unzipping and pulling down his shorts. She dropped to her knees and nuzzled the bulge in his briefs.

“Oh, Sandy,” and he stood over her, hands combing through her thick mane as she nipped the waistband with her teeth and pulled hard. His tool strained stiffly before the cloth released it, springing up in bright red salute. She inhaled Arthur’s cock with her lips and cheeks, licking vigorously up and down and around its length as they moved backwards toward the bed’s edge where Arthur sat. His legs felt weak; Sandy kept swallowing him, soaking his erection with her saliva while her tongue ran under his close-cropped balls, a soft and moist sandpaper rasping over his wrinkled tightness. He held and caressed her head less for control than for the added bond between them, for Arthur loved the way she treated his cock. He looked down at the connection between them, Sandy sucking and pulling back on his shining penis until urla escort she held nothing but the cap between her lips. She gently ran the edges of her teeth sideways past the underside while her tongue nuzzled the head and teased the seeping hole.

“Ahhh, Princess, you’re exquisite,” Arthur sighed. She said nothing but ran back up his length, gulping him until her nose dipped into his pubic hairs. Sandy held her breath and consciously relaxed as the tip of his tingling cock hit the back of her throat. The gag nerves deadened and relaxed, her nose now pressed against his pubis. Then, gripping his tensing buttocks, fingers crawling toward his anus, she swallowed further, until the head of his cock went down her throat.

“Oh God!” he yelled, now taking her head in earnest and accelerating her back and forth motions. “Sandy, I’m coming, yes, yes. . .”

But not fast enough for her–she dropped one hand between her legs and up under her skirt to cover her fingers with her pussy’s juices, and brought them back to his ass, where she oiled his ring and plunged her middle finger beyond.

“Ooooh!” Arthur exclaimed and then again as Sandy’s finger pressed down and massaged his prostate. Combined with the motion and sucking grip of her mouth upon his engorged cock, the sensation was exquisite. Arthur gripped her skull and drove his member and a long shot of sperm down her throat.

“Yes, yes, yes,” he cried, hands relaxing after the initial ejaculation. Sandy gasped around his penis, her mouth welling with his come. Arthur pulled her up as she swallowed, kissing her forehead. ?That was so sweet, thank you, Princess,” he murmured as she crawled atop him and joined her lips to his.

“Ulp,” he gurgled with some surprise when Sandy poured some of his salty sperm in his mouth. They rolled across the bed in a tight embrace until Sandy lay on her back while he smiled down on her.

“So what did you bring for me?”

“Ah,” he said, caressing her belly and breasts under her shirt. ?Something sweeter. I’d call it a main course and undress is mandatory.”

They pulled off each other’s shirts and Sandy’s skirt. Now naked on the bed, they caressed one another’s bodies, smooth palms and fingers on smooth skin and fuzzy hair. His penis was still limp but her pussy awakened further with his touches, labia parting in anticipation of something filling.

“Here, Sandy,” Arthur said as he reached into the basket. “Fresh strawberries picked just for you this afternoon. Lie back, my sweet one, and let me feed you.”

“Mmmm,” she responded as he pushed the rounded red tip into her mouth. The berries menderes escort were no bigger than the end of his thumb, intensely red, ripe and flavorful. Now she bit into the tender fruit, lips closing on the stem held by his fingers. “Deelicious.”

Another berry whose body she crushed, juice exploding within her mouth. “Deelectable.”

And another, “Deelightful,” and she nibbled at his red-stained fingers. Arthur dipped them further into the wet redness of her mouth and leaned down to add his tongue to the proceedings. He pressed his body upon hers and, taking one of the hulled strawberries from the basket, crushed it within his other hand and smeared it down the conjunction of their bodies, from her breast to her hip. He grabbed another and fed her, now slipping off her body and alternating berries between her eager gullet and the broad expanse of her pale-skinned torso. In short time Sandy was coated in strawberry pulp and juice, and she was swooning from the flavor and smell and the firm movements of Arthur’s hand.

“Here’s a pretty sight, strawberries and cream!”

And he began licking her, from the slopes of her breasts, where bits of berry stuck, down to the slope of her belly where the juice had run into the cropped thicket of her mons. Arthur took his time, savoring the taste of the berries and the texture of her flesh.

“You are so sweet, Sandy,” he whispered between little licks flicking up to her stiffened nipples. She writhed in response, sighs escaping her berry-stained mouth. “How tasty is my little princess,” as he flattened out his tongue and laved the mound of her belly. By now, one hand stroked her far haunch while the other slid under her near thigh until she lifted her knee. He continued to lap down to the fuzz of her delta, his finger sliding from thigh to open, seeping pussy.

“And here we have strawberries and peach fuzz,” he whispered. Arthur caressed her with fingers and tongue, now a stiffer point pushing down to the top of her slit. Stopping at the hood topping her budding pink clitoris, he reached for the basket.

“May I feed you again?”

Sandy writhed with sensation. “Feed me, fill me, eat me, yesss.”

“That’s what I thought.” Arthur took the berries and began inserting them in her vagina. Each time he kissed the hood and brushed his tongue down the folds of her thighs and pussy, down along the lips as the fruit disappeared within her. Two, three, four . . . nine, ten, eleven, it seemed she was limitless in capacity. Sandy clutched the sheets and felt her cunt filling with fruit and sensation. She tingled with the feelings gathering, spreading narlıdere escort to other nerve endings between her hips and back to her spine.

At last Arthur stopped and moved around to lie between her legs. He was looking directly at her pussy, now bulging with slickened fruit, some of which were barely lodged between her lips.

“Sandy, you are so sexy, your pussy full of sweet fruit, held in by the muscles of your warm white thighs. I look up to see the creamy roundness of your belly, licked and washed by my tongue; the pointed peaks of your straining nipples, that my hands strive to grasp; and the passion so evident on your open face, that I long to kiss and hold again. But first, I must eat the fruit of your body, the red juicy sweetness of your lovely berry-filled pussy.”

And he plunged in, sucking the berries from her vagina, letting his lips nuzzle hers while he chewed. He filled his mouth with juice that he drizzled out over her clit, turning it from a moistened, glistening pink to red before closing his mouth around it and sucking up the mix of her and the berries’ essences. Sandy began to heave, her hips rocked, her thighs clenched around Arthur’s head, driving his face farther into her sweet mound where taste and smell converged. She could feel the remaining berries still filling her cunt, rolling over one another as his tongue lapped up from below to take another before stroking around top of her pussy.

:OOOHH!” Sandy bucked again, the stars exploding the spectrum behind her closed eyes. Arthur gasped for breath before her legs gripped him again, his hands reaching along her arching ribs for her breasts.

“YES! YESSSS! AAOOW!” she screamed, and two strawberries shot into Arthur’s open mouth between her shivering labia. He chewed, dripped, and slurped at her clitoral pool, driving her to another massive contraction. Sandy shouted wordlessly as more berries emerged from her depths. Her body was slick with sweat and as he squeezed her breasts he rotated his tongue around her clit, faster and faster, while Sandy bucked and bucked, her legs folding in a grip around his back and keeping him from being dislodged. POW! POW! POW! went her orgasm–or orgasms, for it was impossible to tell where one ended and the next started–until the strawberries were consumed by Arthur in the depths of her flowering, fruiting, flowing vagina.

Sandy lay slack, the soft lamplight illuminating the sheen on her gently heaving body, her half-open mouth, her half-closed eyes, and Arthur’s head resting on her hip next to her exhausted gap. Bits of juice remained among her labia and thatched hairs; Arthur slowly reached for them with soft kisses, giving Sandy delicate aftershocks. Finally he slid up beside her on the pillow, wiping her brow and kissing her cheek.

“Sandy,” he whispered, “my fountain of plenty, I worship at your cornucopia.”

“Arthur, that was amazing.” She stroked his hair.

“So what’s for dessert?”

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