It’s not rocket science
Until you’re fumbling with it
Her tender skin slowing your breaths
Fingers seek while tongues entwine
Index feels out the hook
But it doesn’t unhook as planned
She knows and giggles
You laugh but won’t accept defeat
Both your hands get to work
Your lips on hers while your mind pictures the contraption
“What am I doing wrong?” you think
Your patience dragging you to a cliff
She unkisses you and slips a hand behind her
The hindrance falls and you gasp
“It’s easy if you know what you’re doing,” she says
Her arousal visible, you don’t catch her jest
Devouring every inch within your reach
You mumble, “I’ll get better.”
Author: Wolvertine
Flavor [mf] [food play]
It was our first meeting so I told her to wear something light with nothing underneath. I arrived first at the restaurant because I wanted to see how she carried herself. The waiter asked me if I wanted anything and I said, “Water will do.”
She knew I was a stickler for punctuality and appeared in the doorway exactly at 7 PM. I smirked and thought to myself “good girl.” She looked around the room and I pretended not to notice. I cooly gazed at the menu and let her eyes give me a once over. I wore a grey formal pant and a violet half-sleeved shirt. I wanted her to understand that I was not there to win her over.
She came over to my table and softly murmured, “Hi, sir, I’m Mercy.” I looked straight into her eyes so she had to lower them. “I know,” I said and gestured for her to sit opposite me. Her dress revealed just the right amount of cleavage and it turned me on.
She had brown hair that curled down and hid her shoulders, a sharp chin, and grey irises. She had worn a sleeveless dress to expose her light brown skin. It looked delicious in the subdued light of the room.
I signaled for the waiter to come over and ordered a steak for myself. I looked at Mercy and smiled. I told the waiter, “A light salad and any ice cream for her. Thanks.” Mercy giggled and nodded. She told me she liked strawberry ice cream on one of our calls.
While we waited, I asked her if she was wearing anything underneath. She shook her head and replied, “No, sir.”
“Come sit beside me,” I said.
She got up and slid onto the seat beside me. I touched her thigh and she recoiled a bit. I looked into her eyes and she was embarrassed. “Should I stop,” I asked. She quickly blurted out, “No– No, sir.”
I slid my hand up her thigh and reached out with my fingers to check for underwear. My index finger grazed her pussy and she gasped. I let my finger rest there for a while. Her breathing calmed and I drew my hand out.
I brought it to my nose and sniffed it. Her eyes were growing wider by the minute, but she tried to remain calm. “Did you shave it,” I asked. “Yes, sir.”
“Go back to your seat,” I said. I could see she was a bit disappointed. She had told me how she loved to be touched in public, but that could wait.
The waiter arrived with a basket of hot bread and some butter and laid it on the table. She impulsively reached out and quickly stopped herself. “Can I, sir?” Her hand was frozen in mid-air, like some medieval painting of a goddess reaching out to her children. I let her wait.
“Yes, make one for me.”
She obediently applied some butter on a slice and placed it on my plate. I knew she wanted to taste one, too, but I said nothing. She had to wait.
I tasted the bread. It was good but not flavorful.
“You can have one,” I said. “One.”
She made one for herself and nibbled on it quietly until the waiter arrived with our food.
The food was hot, but I did not start eating.
I looked at her intently for a while. Her gaze was soft. She was waiting for me to tell her what to do.
“The bread is not flavorful,” I said. “Take a piece and hold it against your pussy.”
There was a brief twinkle in her eye, but it faded.
“And spread your legs,” I added.
She took one of the slices and snuck it under the table. There was not enough light anywhere for anyone to see what was going on, but I could see her clearly.
Her hand moved around a bit until she found a good spot.
I asked, “Are you wet?”
Yes, sir.
Don’t move your hand. Grind your hips against the bread.
Yes, sir.
I could tell she was beginning to enjoy herself. I had made her use many different items to masturbate on our calls.
I could see her lips were parted and her eyes were closed.
“Place the bread back.”
She was a little carried away.
“Mercy!”
“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.”
I could punish her for that later.
She placed the slightly crumbled slice back in the tray.
Eat it.
She obeyed.
Are you hungry?
Yes, sir.
You can start.
We ate in silence for a while. I had a few mouthfuls of the juicy steak and cut a finger-sized chunk and placed it on her plate. She had told me she was vegan, so she was taken aback. Was I going to force her to eat it? She stared at the piece of steak.
Push it inside your cunt.
She was a little relieved, but not fully comfortable with the idea.
She carefully held the piece with her fingers and lowered it between her legs.
After a few moments, I asked, “Is it in?”
Yes, sir.
Masturbate with it.
She smiled. I knew she’d like that. She began moving her hand slowly back and forth. She sunk down further in her chair and I noticed her nipples become hard under her dress. I continued eating while watching her. She soon began to pant and her hand moved more vigorously.
“Hold out your free hand,” I said.
She obeyed.
I held her hand and felt it tighten. As the orgasm spread out from her groin, her hands and body trembled. I was pleased with my little girl.
She opened her eyes and smiled at me.
Thank you, sir.
Put the piece on a slice of bread and give it to me.
Yes, sir.
I could see her cum glisten on the piece of meat. I brought it to my nose. Meat and pussy. Delightful. I took a bite.
That’s better. There’s flavor now.
She giggled.
Have your ice cream.
Yes, sir.
I called the waiter and paid the bill.
As we stepped outside the restaurant, I pulled her close and kissed her on the lips. I tasted some of the chocolate from her ice cream.
Did you enjoy the ice cream?
A little bit.
I laughed and led her home.