“Yeh.”
“Don’t open them until I tell you to. Promise?”
“Okay.”
There was a moment of silence. Tod was waiting for something, anything! to happen. And then Sylvia said, “Cross your heart and hope to die, you won’t peek.”
“Oh, for God’s sake, Sylvia!” he protested. “Are you trying to build me up for rape?”
She laughed. “No, you poor boy. Here’s your present. Keep your eyes closed.”
Tod heard the hiss and then jumped as something very cold hit his abdomen. “What the hell?” he started to say and was pushed back against the mattress by Sylvia’s firm hand. “You promised,” she said.
The hissing continued, and now Tod could feel the cool, yet satiny substance beginning to cover his belly. A second later, the coldness hit his prick. First the head was covered, then the entire shaft. Next he felt it covering his inner thighs and then, almost painfully, the frigid stuff his scrotum and anus. During the entire event, Sylvia was chortling aloud. Finally, the delightful and mysterious torture ended.
Sylvia said almost breathlessly, “You can look now.”
Tod raised himself up on his elbows and then exclaimed, “Good Christ! What’s that?” There, written across his belly in something that looked like shaving foam was the word Sylvia. The tail end of the “A” was in the form of a curlicue that surrounded his penis. His penis itself looked like a snow-covered tower, and his scrotum and thighs were white with the stuff as well.
“What is it?” he asked again.
Sylvia dimpled. “Whipped cream… master.”
“That,” said Tod in mock sternness, “is a terrible waste of food.”
“I agree. We mustn’t waste it.”
“Do you have any ideas?” Tod asked, already knowing the answer.
Sylvia looked as though she were really studying the problem; then she said, “Maybe… if we put some walnuts around it and a cherry on top… we could sell it as a sundae?”
Tod doubled up in laughter. “You little bitch,” he said, and there was warm affection in his voice.
“Or… I could lick it off Which would you prefer?”
“Like lick, little friend. Lic-ycck!” The last was squeezed out of his throat as he felt her hot trembling little tongue scraping the underside of his cock. “Ummmm,” he purred.
Sylvia, with cream all over her face, looked up and asked softly, “You like that?”
“Oh, God!”
She went back to her ministrations. The consistency of the whipped cream was almost that of a lightweight foamy butter so her mouth moved up and down the shaft of his cock almost without friction. She licked the letter S, then Y and then with one tingling swipe, wiped out LVIA. Her tongue followed the curlicue as it circled the massive base of his cock. Then she was licking his balls. Lap… lap… lap… like a dainty little kitten lapping up milk. But then she became a tiger and bit his thighs, only to become a kitten again when she reached that sensitive area between scrotum and anus.
At first Tod was content to lie back with his eyes closed and let the wonderful sensations wash over him. He had never felt anything quite as erotic in his life. He was completely alive in the mid-portion of his body. He could feel the heat of her tongue working at the entrance to his anus, could feel the beat… beat… beat of the metronome in his scrotum.
But then, as if sensing the buildup within his body, Sylvia stopped and said, quite firmly, “Don’t tell me when you’re ready to cum. I want it to be a surprise.” Her head bowed and her hot lips enclosed the head of his cock.
The movement and her command had taken him by surprise. It was then he opened his eyes and gazed down at her kneeling between his hairy knees. He watched with unbelieving rapture as the tight, rounded ovals of wide-stretched lipstick-covered lips covered the head and a good portion of the shaft of his cock. His instrument skewered into the beautiful face of the woman, and there was a moment when her enraptured expression looked as if it were something on canvas done by a master. The look of enjoyment was almost electric in itself
Sylvia had started using her tongue, slowly at first, but with increasing expertise and tempo. She licked and sucked, and once when she playfully bit, his cock jerked in her mouth. Those lips, those ripe, wonderfully full lips, were soft and smooth as they clasped his prick in a close, elastic ring. He could feel them as they moved down, down the shaft when Sylvia attempted to take as much of him as she could in her mouth. She surrounded, almost drowned his cock with her hot saliva, and then she went back to that maddening, that beautiful! slow lick… lick… lick on the underside. He pressed his hands on either side of her hollowing cheeks and pressed inward, attempting to ram it even further down her voracious throat.
The pressure in his cum-stretched scrotum had grown almost unbearable. Apparently, sensing this, Sylvia began to suck him with a moist, nibbling motion so perfect that it seemed surely she had done this every day of her life. She was so instinctive in her actions that it was almost as if she were sucking at the teat of life… almost as if a hidden hunger deep in her vagina was now concentrated in her mouth.
In spite of her instructions to the contrary, Tod began to groan incoherently low in his throat. He clasped both sides of her face and began to fuck it as though it were some large, happy, incredibly moist vagina. She gagged with each inward stroke. He wanted to cum. He had to cum. She wanted him to cum! And he did! feeling the boiling sperm suddenly freed of all restraint… suddenly able to shoot toward freedom. And it gushed out of him in a never-ending torrent, filling her mouth, raging down her convulsively working throat, spurting out of her tightly clasped lips to drain down across her chin and drip onto her breasts. She drank his elixir of love, she took all he had… and then nibbled and sucked continuously until finally the slowly deflating cock died in her mouth.
Tod fell back onto the bed. Never in his wildest imaginations had he believed a blow job could feel so good. After a moment, he felt those lips reluctantly leave his godsend, and then there was the warmth of her nude, trembling body against his.
She whispered, “Did I please the master?”
His eyes were closed; he didn’t bother to open them. “You did.”
Sylvia kissed the hair on his chest; she even nibbled once or twice at his almost imperceptible breast nipples. Then her mouth was on his; her tongue swam into his mouth… and Tod… for the first time in his life tasted his own semen. It was all over her face, and her mouth was full of it. Slightly alien, slightly saline… his!
She continued to tremble alongside him, and he knew her own desire had gotten the better of her. She wanted him; she needed release… any kind of release! He had been so lost in his ejaculation that he had spent everything he had… it would take hours to build it up again to full potential. Caring, he knew Sylvia shouldn’t have to wait that long. And then, abruptly, he knew what he was going to do.
He laughed as he sat upright and looked down at her trembling body. “Love…” he asked slowly. “Is there any more whipped cream left?”
There was.
And it was Sylvia a few minutes later with legs splayed out wide who was screaming her release.
And it was Sylvia, all breathless in wide-eyed eagerness, who said… as they toweled each other dry after showering, “You know, I think walnuts and a cherry would be too rich for that sundae.” She paused as if suddenly thinking of something, and her cheeks dimpled, “Everything I like is supposed to be fattening. How many calories would you say you shot into my mouth?”
Tod rolled his eyes and groaned at the ridiculousness of the question.
Sylvia smiled, “Are you trying to say it isn’t fattening?”
“Only at a certain time of the month when deposited in your pussy… unless you’re on the pill.”
Suddenly, she was serious, completely serious. “I’m not on the pill. And I’d like to get fat… that way!”
And Tod, hearing the words and seeing her expression, abruptly decided it was time to change the subject.