by Vivien Vale
Just think about being turned into a fly. There’s nothing more annoying, other than maybe a mosquito, than a fly which seems to have no purpose on earth whatsoever.
Flies just buzz around aimlessly and land on humans for no other reason than to be a pain in the ass.
What the fuck am I thinking? There’s no witch, no fairytale. Let’s face it, if there is a fairytale, Daniel would have talked to me about the arrangement by now, the one where he wants me to have his baby.
“I know what we should do,” murmurs Daniel in my ear, and I’m dragged out of my navel gazing. I smile at him.
“And that would be?” I take a sip of my wine.
“Melt the chocolate.” He kisses me on the tip of my nose and heads for the kitchen.
I’m not exactly sure what he’s doing, so I follow.
His shadow falls across the floor, and I can see his massive member sticking straight up in the air.
It didn’t take him long to get hard again. Briefly, I wonder if he’s brought a spare condom, but then push the thought aside.
Daniel randomly opens cupboards and drawers until he finds what he’s looking for.
Instead of offering to help, I stand behind him and use my hands to explore his body. I push against his strong abs and let my fingers crawl lower. Since the tip of his dick is pointing in the direction of my traveling hands, it doesn’t take long for me to touch him.
I encircle the tip of his cock with my fingers before I wrap my hand around him.
He quivers at my touch. Gently, I squeeze him before I take my hand away altogether to watch in fascination as his cock tries to follow my fingers.
It occurs to me how powerful a woman’s touch can be. I can make his cock dance to the tunes of my fingers.
I can’t stand it anymore, my insides are burning with desire, so I slide down onto my knees and around his front.
Now, his delicious cock is at eye level. I lick my lips, and I watch in enthrallment as his love rod bends toward my mouth.
I poke my tongue out and lick its tip. He tastes salty, manly, and full of sexual power. My pussy contracts and demands that I let him enter me again. But right now, I want to suck every last drop of cum from him.
“Roooseee,” Daniel moans and stops what he’s doing. “I—” But further words are cut off when my mouth cups his tip and sucks on it.
As if I’ve got a candy in my mouth, I lick and suck and lick again. Each time, he swells a little more in me.
I watch his hands grab the kitchen counter for support. It’s a bit cramped, and I pull off of him.
“Why don’t you…” I start, but Daniel’s already half turned away from me, so his back is now against the cupboard, and I can comfortably move to be in front of him.
My hands rub his abdomen and then find his balls, as my mouth continues to tease.
He’s bucking against my face, trying hard to push all the way into me, but I’ve got my ways to make the most of this.
Briefly, I pull off of him altogether and grin.
“Fucking little slut, you can’t just tease me like that,” he growls and tries to force my mouth open.
“Getting a little impatient, are we?” I laugh and blow him a little kiss on the tip again.
I watch as goosebumps form on his leg and tummy. I repeat this action, and his dick bounces up and down in search for the source of pleasure.
My eyes glisten with excitement. I never knew I had so much power in my mouth.
Slowly, I run my tongue along his shaft all the way to the base. Here, I circle him before coming back up on a different spot. His cock’s vibrating like crazy. I hold onto it with one hand and then repeat the action.
After a few minutes of licking him all over, I finally open my mouth and take all of him in. I don’t know if he’s ten inches or twelve. All I know is he’s huge and goes nearly all the way down my throat.
For a moment, I wonder if I might gag, but it doesn’t take long at all for me to adjust. A little tilt of my head back and, bingo, he’s all the way in, and I can start bobbing up and down on him.
I start slow and gentle. My hands are now attending to his balls. Like an expert juggler, I roll them around and squeeze them before releasing them. When my mouth hits the base, I let my tongue dart out and lick him there.
It doesn’t take long for Daniel to feel as if he’s going to come sooner rather than later, I’m certain.
I slow right down. In fact, I let him pop out of me with a loud smack.
“Fucking little slut, what are you doing to me?”
Instead of a reply, I nip the tip of his dick and then lick it. I want to see how far I can take things.
“Little fucking slut,” he groans but pushes toward me. Clearly, he wants more. And lucky for him, I can deliver.
Another nip, another lick, another suck. I repeat this a few times. By now my own pussy is so fucking ready, I think I may just have an orgasm from pleasuring him. My nipples are rock hard and dying for some attention.
Finally, I leave my lips wrapped around him and suck as hard as I can. I increase my rhythm and speed and feel his cock throb and grow and thicken impossibly larger.
And then his whole body stiffens, and I know he’s going to come. But instead of coming in my mouth, he pulls out of me and pushes my head back. I’m too surprised to resist.
Seconds later, his cock erupts fountain-like, and he sprays cum all over me. It lands on my face, my eyes, my neck, my chest, and even my belly.
I open my mouth a little and catch some of it as he sprays his juices all over me. Some of it lands on my eyelashes, and I look at him through a haze of cream-colored cum.
When he’s finally finished, he leans forward and wipes my eyes with his fingers. Then he holds it in front of my face. I lick it clean.
“Now.” He reaches behind him, and I see him take a bowl from the bench. With it in hand, he bends down in front of me.
Mesmerized, I watch him dip his finger in and come out with melted chocolate. He smears it over me, on my nipples, and down my chest―and a tiny blob goes onto my pussy.
“Fuck,” I moan and lean back against the door of the cupboard.
Then I feel his tongue dart across me start cleaning me.
My body feels as if it’s standing in flames. Wherever he roams, he leaves a trail of burning desire. I fear this might be too much for me.
There’s a growing throbbing in my pussy, and I feel like jumping up and pushing myself down on his dick.
I know he’s ready again. I can tell from the way it’s springing back to life.
Daniel has removed all the chocolate from my tits, nipples, and belly. He’s moving to my pussy.
His tongue darts over my clit and moves from side to side. I’m sure the chocolate is long gone, but he continues his assault.
I throw my head back and my hips upwards. His hands pushes against me. And then he’s gone.
Emptiness grabs me and threatens to choke me.
What the…?
I stare at the spot where seconds ago he’d been kneeling. Did I miss something?
As my mind starts processing what has happened, he’s back.
Realization dawns.
With one quick movement, he’s pulled me off the floor and pushed against the wall. His cock is in me before I can come to terms with the cocktail of emotions.
With hard, fast thrusts, he pummels into me, and I can feel my orgasm build already. His hands are on my tits and mine are on his ass.
I push myself against him as he fucks me standing in my own kitchen.
The world starts to spin, and my body fills with molten chocolate. Each of my pores is filled with ecstasy as he pummels his way toward another orgasm.
When I come, I come so hard I fear I might pass out. I start seeing stars, and my fingernails dig into his fleshy but firm ass.
He’s not far behind me and erupts in his own orgasm.
When we’ve both finished riding our wave of pleasure, we collapse on a heap on
the floor of the kitchen.
“If we’re not careful, we’ll be thrown out with the trash.” I chuckle and return his kiss.
Daniel
Walking into the office isn’t something I ordinarily enjoy.
While I’m doing it, the last thing I’m usually thinking about is what happened the night before, even if what happened the night before happened with an especially sexy woman.
Just like in Las Vegas—what happens in the bedroom stays in the bedroom, and work, well, it’s work.
Yet what I’m thinking about right now, arriving at the office, are Rose’s cinnamon eyes, and the way they looked—not as we were making earth-shattering love, but afterwards.
She smiled during our conversation. I can’t remember the words, but I can remember the feeling.
It’s the same feeling I have right now, walking into work.
“What are you smiling at?” my secretary asks.
“Why, I’m not smiling at anything,” I reply.
She chortles a little bit. “Okay, why are you smiling then?” she clarifies.
“Because it’s a beautiful day, that’s why.”
She lets her snicker turn into a full-on laugh. “Um...okay, then.”
One of those things that I keep hearing over and over in my life is that if you just smile all the time, people will appreciate it. Not my secretary, maybe, but you may actually find people smiling back.
If the smile is genuine, that is; otherwise, you may end up confusing everyone—or possibly just creeping them out.
But apart from my secretary, the few people I pass on my way to the office, even those I just see from the corner of my eye, are all smiling back. That’s nice and all, but I’m not thinking about them.
I’m still thinking about last night.
Great fucking sex is just that—great fucking sex. But I’m thinking about everything after that. Rose, her eyes, and that feeling...it’s still there, as strong as ever.
And it feels nice. That’s the word. Nice.
That word often doesn’t seem strong enough, but I feel like this is a new meaning for nice. This feeling, this nice feeling that I want to hold onto...I don’t want it to fade.
I know it can’t stay like this—at this level of nice—forever, but I want it to be the foundation for the rest of my life.
For a family with Rose, with the mother of my future children.
There’s that feeling again, and it feels nice. It’s the perfect word, really, and it’s why I’m smiling right now.
Those words Rose and I exchanged last night—although I still cannot remember them exactly— I know we were talking about the future.
About a family.
It was nice, and we shared that feeling.
That’s what I’m feeling now, and I hope that Rose feels it, too.
I can’t imagine that she’s not. Even if she isn’t, surely, she must be thinking about what a great time we had. I mean, we’ve had some good times, but that was something fucking else.
I feel so nice that, when my phone starts buzzing the moment I’m alone in my office, I don’t even get a little bit annoyed. Usually, that’s the type of thing that makes me swear under my breath, but right now, I’m still smiling.
I check my phone to see a reminder: Dinner with Rose tonight. Make sure to go get her. My smile gets even bigger as I think about that song.
You have found her, now go and get her.
I feel like I’ve got her already, but I’ll go get her again for dinner tonight.
I start humming the old song to myself when I sit down at my desk. Old music’s the type of thing that used to scare me. I tried to stay away from it, wanting to stay young and modern.
But if I want to keep going in this world, I can’t avoid growing old eventually.
It’s something that doesn’t seem as terrifying as it used to be, because now it seems—well, you guessed it—nice.
“Hey, Mr. Smiley Face Songbird,” my secretary teases me from outside the door. “Don’t forget about your nine-thirty!”
I look at my wrist watch. Twenty minutes before I really have to start work today.
I don’t mind—it’s what I need to do.
For myself.
For Rose.
For our future.
I lean back in my chair to enjoy the meditative moments before the daily grind begins.
I try to picture my dinner with Rose tonight. I don’t think we decided on a place...but did we? If we did, I don’t want to disappoint her.
I search through my memory, trying to find a restaurant name somewhere in those beautiful moments in Rose’s bed.
I’m drawing a blank on that, but I do remember our goodbye kiss.
It was a sweet, lingering kiss that gave us both another little spark of excitement—not that there wasn’t already enough of that last night—but it delivered just a little taste of things to come.
Maybe after dinner tonight...but where is dinner tonight?
“Atera!” I say the restaurant name out loud when I remember it.
“It’s not at Atera. It’s in Conference Room A,” my secretary says through the door. She thinks I’m still talking about my nine-thirty.
I notice that my feet are up on my desk. I pull them down and take a deep breath.
“When you’re right, you’re right,” I call back. “I don’t know where my mind is, and I don’t know where I’d be without you.”
“I don’t know where you’d be, either, and I don’t want to think about it.”
I laugh at her snarky comments. She soon joins in on the laughter. We share a nice little moment in two different rooms, because why the hell not? It’s just a regular workday, and we’ve all got to get through it.
I stand up at my desk. I may be feeling nice, but I still need to look presentable for my next meeting.
Eons ago, we had this kind of flaky new-agey interior designer come in and, as he put it, Feng Shui-ed our offices. I didn’t even have the energy to argue at the time, and he didn’t do much in my office besides hanging a full-length mirror on the inside of my office door.
It’s coming in handy now as I give my hair a quick comb. I pop a few breath mints and walk out the door.
I get through all my appointments and go over my emails. I don’t even take a lunch break; I just get through it while thinking about dinner tonight.
Or, more specifically, thinking about meeting Rose for dinner tonight.
And now, I’m done with the day’s commitments.
Oh, shit, where did we plan to meet, again? I’m seriously fucking distracted by her.
I sit down, close my eyes, and prop my feet back on the desk.
That nice feeling fills me up again as I think about our kiss and our discussion.
In my mind’s eye, I hear myself say, As soon as you’re done working tomorrow, I will be there at your office. You don’t need to do a thing. Sitting back up, I remember saying one more thing: Well, you might need to tell me when you’re finished.
As if Rose was somehow listening to my memories along with me, my phone buzzes.
Of course, it’s a text from her: I’ll be done in twenty minutes.
If this were any other date, I would think the message was a little business-like and perfunctory.
But it doesn’t bother me even slightly—it’s as nice as everything else Rose does.
I look at my wristwatch. It’s about four-forty.
I’ve made it a point to be early for all my other engagements today, and my most important appointment of the day is coming up in twenty minutes. I’d better get a move on if I want to be there the moment she gets off work.
I jog through the hallway, much to my secretary’s surprise. “Oh. My. God. What?” She squawks before giggling as I break into a run.
Walking into the lobby—at least I’m not jogging anymore—I step in and stand tall, feeling proud of the date I have tonight.
I feel excited, warm, happy, and nice as I look at my wristw
atch again. It’s now about five minutes to five, fifteen minutes after Rose’s text.
If she really was getting out of work when she texted, she would be in the lobby by now—not that I’d expect her to wait for me all this time.
I look around the lobby, still smiling like I’ve been all day.
People are looking back at me. Two women and a man, all of them in grey suits, have stopped their conversation just to glare at me.
I look towards the front entrance where the security guard is also staring at me, as is the nearby older executive-looking guy in the meticulously tailored suit holding a coat over his arm.
But I dismiss them. Where is Rose, anyway?
I’m about to look at my wristwatch one more time, although it couldn’t have been a minute since I last checked, when I hear that lovely voice.
“Ready?”
It’s not like I’m not used to people staring at me pretty much everywhere I go. It’s mostly just background noise at this point.
But I still feel a strong sense of relief wash over me from just hearing Rose’s voice, knowing that she’s here, and knowing that we can leave soon. I look up from my wristwatch to find her standing right in front of me. Her nice smile perfectly matches my own.
“You have no idea how ready I am.”
Rose and I kiss briefly before crossing the lobby, leaving the people to gawk in our wake.
Rose
It feels like we’re pulling our weight equally, both of us pulling each other closer while we walk arm in arm out onto the sidewalk.
I spot Daniel’s car parked conspicuously, right in the middle of the loading zone in front of the building.
“Wait, you can’t park there,” I squawk with amusement.
“That’s what I thought, but then I tried it and found out how easy it is.”
I lean away from Daniel to see if I can spot a ticket on his car’s windshield, or a boot on one of the wheels. Daniel snaps me out of it by unlocking the doors remotely. The headlights flash, and the horn honks, giving me enough of a start to straighten back up.
Daniel laughs a free, easy laugh, and I get a little infectious laughter from him.
