Strawberries and Cream

3 min read

photo: The Life Erotic

A sweet treat. Podcast written by Jaiden MyErotica, read by Bitsy la Bourbon

Flowers, chocolates, perfume — so cliché. So he doesn’t buy those for me; he knows the quickest way to my heart, and other places, is a ripe, juicy strawberry. Farmers market strawberries — seasonally grown, flavorful. Expensive. For so long, I kept them to myself, a secret indulgence I didn’t want to share.

That first time he gets them for me, I feel unsure. I may be impressed by the gesture, by his thoughtfulness; but, even as my mouth waters at the sight and sweet scent of them, am I ready for my thing to become our thing?

There’s no fanfare, he just serves them to me for breakfast. The dish is vintage crystal, not the simple white china that’s a part of my own ritual, and while I’d usually take it slow, tiny nibbles on each fruit, prolonging the pleasure, he begins feeding them to me, his way…

“Do I really need to beg?” I ask him. He says nothing, just signals to me to slip off my robe, then kneel in front of him, naked. Intrigued, I comply. He takes the first strawberry and touches it to my mouth, the flesh cool and the seeds a little rough against my lips. I part them, ready to take that first bite… only for him to snatch it away again. I feel a stab of frustration, and an echoing jolt in my pussy. At last, he tells me to open wide, then places a berry on my tongue. I crush it against the roof of my mouth, a little tremor going through me as the juices burst out.

He feeds me another, then two more. Then, after making a show of selecting the ripest, reddest, most perfectly shaped berry in the dish, he holds it inches from my face… and slowly closes his hand around it, juices dripping out of his fist as he smushes it.

How could he? How dare he? My expression — he tells me later — is a picture of shocked, open-mouthed disbelief. Smirking, he lets the remaining, precious pink juices drip onto my tongue. Then he smears the pulp on my breasts, working it over my nipples.

He bows his head to lap it up. Even then, as arousal spreads through me like a warm glow, I feel conflicted. So hot, yet still mildly resentful at having to share even this single fruit. He takes his time, slow and in control. At last, when he has licked and sucked me completely clean, he straightens up to look at me again, eyes silently asking me what I want next.

I feel an ache deep in my pussy, but pride wins out. I flash him a defiant glance, then turn to gaze at the dish of strawberries, letting my tongue dart over my lips. He doesn’t miss a beat.

“Splay your legs,” he tells me. I obey. He plucks a fruit and again, holds it just inches from my mouth. Silently, I refuse to take the bait. With the merest flicker of a smile, he lowers his hand, watching my face as he skims the strawberry along my moistening slit… then pops it in his mouth, relishing the flavor before swallowing it.

I don’t react, determined not to acknowledge the tease. Another berry, circled over my clit this time… then dipped inside of my pussy opening. He holds it to his nose, sniffs my fragrance.

“Want a taste?” he asks. I nod, unable to resist. He places it on my tongue and I bite into it. Taste the combination of sweet, ripe fruit and my own musky juices. As he touches the next juice-soaked strawberry to my lips, he pauses.

“This one…” he says, “you’ll eat it when I tell you — and not before.” I feel another flash of rebellion, but I’m already caught up in his game. I nod as he places it in between my lips, half-in, half-out of my mouth.

He’s naked now, palming his already stiff cock, guiding it to my crotch. He rubs the full, smooth head of it against my clit, feels how wet he’s gotten me. I catch his eye, willing him to slide inside of me, surprised when he obliges immediately, sinking in down to the hilt. A couple thrusts, a delicious stirring… then he pulls back, just the tip remaining.

“One bite before I say — and this is over.” I consider myself warned.

I let out a small, muffled moan as he fucks me slow and deep, a thumb rotating over my clit as he moves in and out of my pussy. The friction builds and my senses are nearing overload, little shocks and spasms already shooting through my snatch. As I squeeze tight around his shaft, my lips press against the berry and I feel its firm flesh give slightly. Panicked — I couldn’t handle him stopping now — I focus every shred of my attention on maintaining control.

Maybe he senses my desperation, maybe he’s just hitting the brink. He pulls out and snatches the fruit from my lips. Instinctively, I open my mouth wide, ready for his cock. I close my hand around it, the juice-slick shaft sliding easily between my palm and fingers, the head grazing my tongue. All it takes is a few strokes and he’s cumming in my mouth.

I let it pool, looking him right in the eye. He allows himself a smile then places the strawberry on my tongue. I shut my mouth, crushing the fruit, then close my eyes as I savor the sweet juices and his cream, letting them trickle slowly down my throat. And before that pleasure fades, his fingers are inside of me, stroking and caressing until I’m orgasming hard around them.

As I come back to reality, I see him reach to take a strawberry from the dish. A stern look stops him in his tracks.

“Okay, just one,” I tell him, only half-joking; now I know for sure who’s really in control…

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