by Gabi Moore
She groaned and wriggled, spreading her legs a little, her face disappearing into the cloud of her curls. I stroked, my cock stiffening between us. The next time my fingertips descended to that sweet cleft, I caressed even closer, and discovered a silky wetness there. She tilted her hips towards me. Dutifully, I traced a delicate finger into those soaking depths and swirled till I found the swollen, impatient nub of her clit. I could hear her breathing kick down a gear now. I was rock hard, but I wanted to draw this moment out for all it was worth. I loved watching her getting excited like this, watching the slow, syrupy waves of arousal wash over her.
“I love what your body does when you’re this turned on,” I whispered. I could tell she was hanging on to every word. My middle finger rested just slightly on her juicy clit, but I kept tracing tiny, insistent circles right where I knew she liked them, knowing that if I kept talking, and kept circling, she wouldn’t be able to take much more. And making her cum was the best fucking thing in the universe.
I pressed a little harder and teased my finger down to the entrance of her drenched little hole.
“You want it, don’t you? You want it so bad, I bet you can’t wait to get fucked, can you?”
She moaned, her body twitching in response.
“But I’m going to make you wait for it. I’m going to wait till you’re really turned on, because I want to see you come so fucking hard you nearly pass out. Because you’re my little slut, do you hear me? And I’m going to fuck you hard you’re not going to be able to sit down for a week.”
I could hear the short, jagged breaths as they entered and left her body. Her eyes were squeezed shut but one hand gripped the sheet and the other was wrapped tightly around my neck. It was as though I was hypnotizing her. I teased at the entrance and then slowly sunk in one finger, but quickly pulled it out again.
“My little whore, show me how wet you are. Spread your legs so I can see just how badly you want it.”
She obediently spread her legs wider, pulling her knees way up and turning her head to the side. Fuck I loved that. How she offered herself up to me like that, all hot and quivering.
“Good. That’s good. Now tell me what you want, you little bitch. Tell me exactly what you want me to do to you.”
She whimpered.
“Tell me. I already know what you want but I want you to say it.”
“I want… I want your cock,” came the muffled reply. Her juices were flowing over her perfect ass cheeks and onto the sheet beneath us.
“Of course you do baby, you’re my little fuck toy and I’m going to show you just how hard I can pound you.”
It was amazing how fired up she was getting.
“Mmm, that’s good. I can feel how badly you want it. Little slut. In a minute I’m going to shove my cock in you and give you what you deserve, but first I want to see you beg for it.”
“Oh god, please,” she blurted immediately.
“Please what?”
“Please fuck me.”
By now I had sunk the tips of two teasing fingers into her tight pussy but I lingered them there, not going any further, teasing her to see just how desperate she would get.
“Mmm, that’s very sexy baby, but you’re going to have to beg much harder than that.”
“I want you fuck me!” she gasped.
“I know baby. How bad do you want it though?”
“Fuck me please…”
“Mmmm…”
“Oh god, Felix, I want it so bad. I want your big fat cock all the way in me, I want you to fuck me and fill me up with your cum, please Felix, I want you to just fucking destroy my little slut pussy.”
I couldn’t hold on any longer. I grabbed her hips forcefully and yanked her towards me, sending the duvet and her fluffed up curls flying everywhere. It took no effort to slide right into her, till her swollen body had swallowed me completely, and I was pressed all the way in as far as I could go. She cried out and clawed at my chest, but was already gyrating her hips around me, already clenching somewhere deep inside around me, her entire body on fire.
“Fuck yes,” I moaned, and began to pull her hips down onto me as I threw all my weight into one vicious thrust after another. Each pump forced a cry from deep inside her throat. I wanted her to keep talking. To keep saying all those dirty things. I leaned forward and slipped my fingers into her mouth, wanting as much of me to be inside as much of her as possible. She opened her mouth wide and threw back her head, her tongue hot against the fingers that had only a moment ago been stretching open that sweet little cunt of hers. It was an obscene gesture. It was disgusting. It was dirty. And it was indescribably fucking hot.
I pounded away at her, every time my balls came slapping hard against her body she grunted, releasing a slew of obscenities. She was possessed, taken over by the delicious sensations I was pumping straight into the core of her. I loved seeing her squirm like this, a complete little fuck animal, a little pleasure machine in full raptures. And I loved that it was me doing it to her. My cock that pleasured her, my cock that she wanted so badly, my cock that had her pussy streaming wet and her brain so fried with lust she couldn’t talk properly…
We came together, one big, juicy orgasm that convulsed so roughly through both our bodies she forced me out, leaving my wet cock to spurt strings of white all over her naked thighs and that sweet, damp little mound of fur of hers. I tried to stifle a growl, felt it shudder through me then collapsed on top of her, soaked with sweat.
“Holy shit,” she said, still panting.
I laughed.
“I think you enjoyed that almost more than I did,” she said with a teasing smile. The alarm bleeped, and we both roared with laughter and tried to untangle ourselves from the blankets.
“You think that was some sexy talk, baby, just wait until you hear what I have to say next,” I said, standing up and feeling the cool air on my hot body.
“Oh? Go on then, bad boy,” she said, following suit and getting up, looking for her robe.
I caught her eye and gave her a mischievous look.
“One word,” I said.
“I’m listening…”
“Cake.”
She laughed.
“Oh right, I forgot. I have a bakery to run, don’t I?”
“Yes ma’am. But this morning I think we should switch things up and go for something a little different.”
“Oh yeah? Like what?”
“Like carrot cake,” I said, and watched closely for her reaction. She paused, looking at the ground and then at my still naked body.
“You know what, Felix… you’re right,” she said and smiled at me. “Carrot cake it is.”
***
I could make out the tiny sweat beads on the edge of her brow.
“Just relax,” I said. “I told you. Nobody gives a damn about any of that, and nobody remembers you or the video or what happened.”
She smiled and took a deep breath but looked nervously again at the row of carrot cakes laid out behind the glass.
“They’ll think I’m gloating or something. Like I’m proud of myself,” she said, tying and retying the knots on her apron.
“And? Shouldn’t you be?”
She relaxed a little but was still eyeing everyone who came in, ready to analyze to death the first person that would ask for a slice.
Then someone did. A sweet, unassuming girl glanced at the offerings, and casually asked for three slices of our new Easter cake special: carrot cake, cream cheese frosting and a flaked almond and candied lemon peel sprinkle on top. I watched closely as Em served her, took the money, carefully piled the slices into one of Warren’s signature yellow cake boxes and sent her on her way. When the whole interaction was over, she immediately turned to me, astonished.
“She must not know who I am,” she said simply.
“See? Sometimes carrot cake is just carrot cake,” I said and smiled.
It was weird that that’s what it came down to, but I think it was that morning that
Emily’s healing truly began. With carrot cake. I wondered if a few people did in fact know who she was, but as I watched her bravely push herself to serve them and dish up those slices of cake, I could see that nobody made the connection, and what few splinters of rumor and bad memories remained were all inside Em’s head alone.
The morning rolled on, I made coffee for the customers, helped Becky with deliveries and cast a watchful eye over Em, who seemed to be growing more and more confident with each carrot cake slice sold. I walked passed her and she grinned at me, remarking that she wondered why she had been so hung up on any of this before. There was one slice remaining. And that’s when Buck showed up.
He made eye contact with her immediately, and didn’t see me lurking out of sight. He took a look around, waltzed in and when his eyes found her, he smiled to himself and walked over.
“So what the hell happened?” he said through clenched teeth. “I waited for you. You never answered my calls.”
I kind of felt bad for the guy. But I mostly wanted to see him get what was coming. I had to restrain myself from stepping in, from telling him to fuck off once and for all and leave Emily alone… but I knew she had to do that for herself. So I watched them both unseen, poised to pounce should she need me.
What I saw unfolding made my heart glad.
“No, I didn’t. I didn’t want to speak to you. And I don’t want to speak to you now, either,” she said breezily, and with a perfect 50s housewife smile on her face that in any other situation might have been funny. He took his time eyeing her, like he was trying to figure out what the hell she had to be so happy about.
“This isn’t a game, Emily,” he hissed.
“Nope! It’s my bakery, and you’re holding up the line,” she said with a cheery smile.
“You’re a disgrace, you know that? I’m done with your teasing. I was willing to take care of your father’s debt for you, to help you--”
“Thanks, Buck, but I don’t need your kind of help anymore,” she said briskly, sneering her words but keeping the same stubborn smile on her face. Now this was the plucky Emily I knew and loved.
“You’re crazy,” he said and laughed in her face. But she leaned in close, dropped her voice and let the cake knife in her hand softly clink on the marble counter.
“And you are no longer welcome here. You’re going to turn around right now and walk away, and so help me if I see your face in here again I’m going to call the police,” she said, delivering each word like a slice. His eyes went wide as he tried to think of a retort.
She leant back again, grabbed the last slice of carrot cake and plonked it down into a yellow box, closed it and handed it over to him with a flourish.
“I’ve come into some money, lately, Buck, and I won’t be needing any help from you or the bank, so now I’d like you to kindly fuck off please. But here, have a slice of cake on the house.”
He took the box and looked down at it, gobsmacked.
“It’s carrot cake!” she said joyfully. “My favorite.”
Chapter 14 - Emily
Four years later. 14 July 2086
He dipped the teaspoon into the mixture, scooped some up in a swirl and then offered it to me.
“Hm, what does this remind me of?” I said smiling, and leaned forward to take a sexy lick of the new cupcake icing. Felix laughed.
“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about, ma’am,” he said, and gave me a naughty wink.
I smacked my lips together and thought for a second.
“Needs a little more vanilla,” I said.
He looked down at the series of bowls on the table in front of him, each one filled with a different color frosting. I loved him in an apron. I loved him in only an apron. Felix was always full of surprises, but the fact that he was a closet kitchen fiend all along was a surprise even I hadn’t been able to anticipate. He put the spoon down and jotted something in a notebook. Then he grabbed another bowl, gave it a brisk stir and held out another spoon to me to taste.
“Now try the chocolate,” he said.
I dutifully leant forward again to take a lick, this time being slow and provocative about it, making playful eye contact with him as I swirled my tongue around the dollop of sweet cream.
“Delicious,” I said, eyes still on his. He blushed a little and looked down at his bowls again.
“Well you’re in a good mood for someone who was freaking out just a little while ago,” he said and scribbled another note.
He was right. My final exam was in a few hours and I had just spent all of last night in a complete panic. It seemed like only yesterday that Warren’s was celebrating its successful relaunch, and Felix had gotten me drunk on celebration champagne and convinced me I had to go back to college to finish what I had started. I don’t know how it happened, but here I was, just one written exam away from the degree I had once wanted with all my heart. And there he was, powdered sugar in his hair and eyebrows kinked as he focused on my newest frosting recipes.
“Still can’t believe this shit is rice protein,” he said, whipping up another bowl, this blend filled with pale yellow frosting. I tasted this one too. It was also only yesterday that my half-baked zero-input experiments in the back storeroom had started to yield interesting new Oryza sativa strains. And after that, things had gone so quickly – I started working with a high protein rice and barley blend, and we soon found ways to use it in everything, unable to keep up with our customer’s demands. It was ethically produced, delicious and practically a health food. It was like Soylent green, but the dessert edition, and people were travelling from all over to sample the cakes and cookies we made with it. The project had started as a practical assignment for one of my alternative biomech classes, but once we set up the system, we soon realized the potential for profit. This was a natural ingredient, it cost us next to nothing to make, and it made me feel that we were actually doing some good in the world. It was perfect.
“Are either you and Becky going to be in at the shop this morning to take that delivery?”
“Yup, I’m heading over there in a bit, just wanted to see you off. Today is a big day, after all.”
I looked at him sideways.
“It is just me or are you naked under that thing?” I said. I was roughly towel drying my hair after my shower but paused to eyeball him with a smile.
“Me? Oh you know me, I don’t like to let anything get in the way of me and the baking, you know,” he said with a wink.
A year ago, when juggling the course load and the shop commitments had become too much, Felix had promised to step up and take more responsibility for the bakery. He used to laugh and tell customers that the ‘women’s work’ of running the bakery was way more hardcore than anything he had to do when he was posted up there on the big red planet, and that he loved it. They loved him.
I sauntered over to him, took the gooey spoon from his hands and angled him towards me.
“I’m going to get very distracted if you keep walking around like that,” I said quietly as I traced my fingers around the edges of the apron. I could smell his warm skin, and pressed up close to him, nothing between his naked body and my naked body but the fabric of the apron.
“Oh yeah? Sounds terrible. I bet it’s this apron that’s causing all the trouble,” he said and leaned down to linger in an almost-kiss just an inch from my lips. “I should probably get rid of it.”
Off came the apron and then we pressed together again, bare skin on bare skin, lips to lips. Kissing him always felt so easy, so right. He curled his strong body around mine, cradling my head in his outstretched hands and lifting me tenderly up into a deeper kiss. I raised onto my tip toes, eyes closed to savor just how sweet it was to caress my tongue against his, how easily my skin broke into goosebumps under his fingertips as it trailed down my naked spine.
“Mmm. And what flavor is this?” I said, teasing him with my tongue.
“Felix flavor. Something new I’ve been working on,” he grinned.
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“Delicious,” I said and kissed him again.
He gently raised both hands, placed them on my shoulder blades and gently pushed me backwards till my bare ass bumped into the kitchen counter. I giggled.
“What are you…”
He tore his lips away and then was back at the bowls, this time picking up a big dollop of green frosting on the spoon and then standing before me, a naughty glint in his eye. I lifted my eyebrows.
“Felix, I have an exam in three hours and fifteen minutes.”
His smile was big and easy and confident. What was I saying? Felix could make me come in four and a half heartbeats. This man knew how to pilot a half dozen specialized space aircraft, and he could whip together a perfect batch of choux pastry that could make my grandmother weep… but his real talent was knowing how to magically get me from a stone cold zero to coming so hard I could break headboards. It was uncanny. It didn’t even matter if I was tired, or if we had just had an irritating argument. Once he set his mind to pushing me over the edge, it happened.
I watched as he raised his arm up high and let the frosting drizzle straight down off the spoon and land cold and wet right between my breasts. I leaned back, elbows propping on the counter, trying to prevent the sugar glob from sliding down. He held the spoon out to the side and descended on me, pressing his way between my legs and then laying down a broad, warm, pink tongue down to lick it back up again. I squealed.
“Tastes much better like this,” he mumbled into my skin, and he was already tracing a line on my skin with the rest of the frosting, down towards my navel and past it, stopping just short of the cropped coils between my legs. Although our little apartment’s kitchen was always chilly this time of year, I felt my body temperature soaring. And although the sugar in the mixture felt gritty and ice-cold against my exposed flesh, I felt like I was already burning up. I knew what I was in for. I knew that with the look he had in his eyes right now, with the way the muscles in his torso were tightening, that I wouldn’t be allowed to leave here until I had been thoroughly, utterly fucked.