by Lena Skye
“It depends on the seafood,” she said, taking a deep breath. “The way it smells here—I am definitely in favor.” Victor grinned and glanced at the menu, almost in passing; he’d been to the restaurant a few times before and had brought Danielle specifically because he had liked his experience each time. He knew what he wanted—and he was interested to find out what Danielle wanted.
“Can I get the two of you started with some drinks?” Their waiter looked as Victor expected: clean, professional, interested. Victor glanced at Danielle.
“I think I know a few things we’ll want,” Victor told the man. “I’ll have the yuzu sour.”
“The Winston’s Heat sounds amazing,” Danielle said.
“It’s one of my favorite drinks here,” the waiter told her.
“And I know we’ll want the scallop crudo, tuna tartare, and creamy rock shrimp,” Victor added to the man.
“Excellent choices,” the waiter told them, making notes. “I’ll be right back with your drinks, and I’ll put in your first orders. If you need a few more minutes after that to choose your main courses, feel free to take your time.”
“That is kind of a lot for an appetizer,” Danielle pointed out to him. Victor chuckled.
“Well, a little of this, a little of that...Besides, sushi is light on the stomach.” Danielle considered that and nodded after a moment.
“I can see that,” Danielle admitted.
“Whatever you feel like though, you can have,” Victor told her. “This is a celebration after all.” Danielle chuckled.
“When have we ever had a meal together where I couldn’t order whatever I wanted?” Victor returned her smile with a pleased grin.
“Well, this time I want you to order not just anything you want, but everything you want,” he said. “Don’t think about the price on anything, don’t think about being full—we can take away the leftovers and have them later.”
“Do you have a cooler in the car or something? Raw fish isn’t going to last well in a car while we watch the show,” Danielle pointed out.
“I can have Alan take them back to my place, put the leftovers in the fridge,” Victor told her; he’d already thought of that—it had been a contingency he’d used before. “And I have dessert waiting for us at my place, if you want it.” Danielle’s lips twitched with an almost-smile. It was so good to see her happy, to see her enjoying herself. Of course, seeing her enjoying herself in another sense is even better, he thought.
“What would dessert be?” Danielle’s voice took on a note that Victor recognized after a month of close contact with her; she was starting to feel the way he felt, starting to get into the vibe of the evening.
The drinks came, and by then they were both ready to order the rest of the meal: a J&J roll, a Dragon roll, and the Sindy roll, the last chosen by Danielle alone—but Victor was more than happy to share it. Their first course came soon after, and they dropped into casual conversation, each of them snagging bits of raw scallop, dressed shrimp, and bites of chopped, dressed raw tuna in between sips of their respective cocktails.
“You never did tell me what dessert is going to be,” Danielle pointed out as they both relaxed more and more, and Victor grinned.
“Well, I was thinking of a sundae bar,” he said. “Since I know you love ice cream.” He had a rather novel idea for how the sundaes they made would be served—but that would come later, when it was time for them to go home and enjoy the end of their night together.
After a nice dinner, and the relaxation of the standup show, and maybe a drink or two afterwards, Victor was sure that Danielle would be as fully blissed out as possible; and of course, the lean protein and basic carbohydrates from their meal would leave them both in the best possible condition to spend the rest of the night having sex.
Victor made a mental note to himself about what their next big celebration might entail: maybe he would book them both a day at Terme Di Aroma, to really maximize Danielle’s relaxation, on one of her days off. He knew that Danielle loved massages—he’d used that to his advantage more than once in the month they’d been together. She’d love, even more, a full day of pampering and luxury, something she probably had never had a chance to experience. Victor made a mental note to get his assistant on the task of figuring out the logistics of it all for the next month.
“A sundae bar, huh?” Danielle plucked a shrimp out of the beautiful glazed plate between the two of them and ate it quickly, and Victor enjoyed watching her savor the taste. He nodded.
“A few different ice creams, caramel sauce, whipped cream…” He let the words trail off, raising one eyebrow significantly. “Everything you could want for a delicious end to the night.” Danielle chuckled and licked her lips, as much to tease him as to catch the traces of the sauce there.
Victor grinned at her and took another slice of scallop crudo off of the main plate, telling himself that the waiting would be more than worth it by the time they got back to his place. He would make sure they got some coffee at some point—the better to spend as much of the night as possible enjoying each other’s company; and, of course, enjoying all the sweet stuff he’d gotten for the date.
Chapter11
Danielle felt a little on edge as she and Victor stepped into his apartment together, but she pushed the anxiety out of her mind. She had seen someone at Punch Line—one of Sam’s friends, someone she knew was in the Bey family—but, Danielle reminded herself, she didn’t know that he had seen her.
She and Victor had been tucked away at a table, with drinks and snacks; they weren’t readily visible during the show, and they’d left before everyone had gone out of the club, so there was a good chance that Trevor hadn’t seen her—and even if he had, she reminded herself, it wasn’t as though he’d necessarily know that Victor had any ties to the Sokolov family.
“Now, for the surprise,” Victor said, as soon as they’d both taken their shoes off in the entryway. Danielle smiled indulgently, knowing that there was sure to be more to “dessert” than just ice cream and toppings. Even with—maybe especially because of—the distraction of almost being “found out,” she was more turned on than ever, interested in nothing more than savoring the rest of her night with Victor.
He led her towards the kitchen, and Danielle felt her heart beating a little bit faster as he went to the freezer, and began taking containers out: vanilla, chocolate, salted caramel, and dark cherry ice creams. He already had a few other things on the counter, Danielle noticed: caramel sauce that she was pretty sure was several steps above the usual ice cream shop quality, fudge sauce made with Callebaut chocolate, true maraschino cherries soaking in liqueur. Victor turned to the fridge and began taking a few things out of there, too, including the whipped cream he had mentioned before.
“So, the surprise is that this is easily $50 worth of ice cream and toppings?” Danielle gave Victor a playful grin.
“Actually, the surprise is that I haven’t got any bowls to put this in,” Victor said, closing the fridge door. He gave her a slow grin. Danielle looked at him for a moment in confusion, before the meaning began to form in her mind. She felt her cheeks warm up, felt the answering heat down between her hips.
“It seems like kind of a waste to spend so much money on dessert and not have anything to serve it in,” Danielle said, keeping her voice light and playful. Victor chuckled.
“Well, see, I had this idea,” he said, moving closer to her. He kissed her lightly on the lips, and his hands slid down from her waist to her hips, pressing her body against his. “I thought that we could be each other’s ice cream bowl.”
“That is ingenious,” Danielle said, her skin already beginning to tingle at the idea. “But who gets to go first?”
“It’s your celebration,” Victor pointed out. “I’m pretty sure that means that you should go first.” He grinned at her more broadly. “Or rather, I should go first—in a way.” Danielle saw the tip of his tongue dart out over his lips, and saw his gaze move over her body.
“I cleared off the dining room table—I just need to heat up the fudge sauce and the caramel.” Danielle grinned back at him and felt her heart beating still faster in her chest, heat flowing through her veins. She wasn’t entirely sure that she couldn’t heat up the fudge and caramel with her own body, she felt so hot.
“I’ll wait for you there, then,” she told him playfully. Danielle left his side and went into the dining room, attached to the kitchen—separated from it by only a door. She saw that he was true to his word: the table was completely cleared off, not even the usual place settings or vases or anything else there. She smiled to herself, understanding just what Victor had in mind, and reached around to her back to find the zipper on her dress.
She tugged it down, thankful that she was alone to manage the awkwardness when it reached a spot where it wasn’t quite so easy to reach. It had been every bit as awkward that evening, getting the dress on, and Danielle had counted on Victor taking the dress off of her that night. But this was almost as good.
“Careful heating up the caramel and fudge,” she called out, slipping the dress down along her body. She stripped down until she was fully naked, and looked at the table once more, thinking about the best way to get on top of it and also what position she should be in, once Victor came into the room.
“There should be a blindfold in there,” Victor called back. “I’d appreciate it if you put it on.” Danielle raised an eyebrow at that, but the knowledge did send an electric jolt of anticipation through her.
She found the blindfold—a dark, opaque scarf—draped over the back of one of the chairs, and plucked it free, pulling the chair around so that she could use it to climb onto the table. Danielle thought for another moment and then positioned herself on her back, the scarf tied over her eyes to block out all light. She draped her legs over the edge of the table, and crossed her arms over her head, leaving her breasts, her belly, and her hips and pussy fully available.
“Very nice,” Victor murmured when he came in, and Danielle breathed in the smell of fudge and caramel, and the slightly less potent sweetness from other toppings he’d brought with him. She felt herself trembling slightly, almost wanting to take the blindfold off, but interested to see how things would proceed. “You’ve left me plenty of room to make the best possible sundae on you—thank you for that,” he told her. Danielle giggled.
“I had better get a treat out of this, or it doesn’t seem like all that much of a celebration for me,” Danielle told him tartly.
“Oh, believe me—you’re getting a treat from this too,” Victor confirmed. Danielle heard the clicks and clatter of him setting things down, positioning things, and her curiosity once more almost got the better of her. She almost couldn’t stand not knowing what Victor was doing, what he’d brought with him and what might come next. “Make sure to stay very still, Danielle,” Victor told her.
“Then don’t startle me too much,” Danielle countered playfully. She heard movements but couldn’t make out what was happening by the sounds; and then, just when her curiosity had reached a peak, Danielle felt the soft, cold, slightly yielding contact of something—her brain told her after an instant that it had to be ice cream—sliding against her belly, just above her hips. She made a noise, somewhere in between a gasp and a yelp, but managed to remain still, the muscles underneath her skin trembling from cold and tension in equal measure.
The second, slightly sliding drop of cold against her abdomen was not as much of a shock, and by the time she felt the third one it was almost normal in a strange way. Danielle shivered as the cold from the ice cream sank into her skin and hoped that Victor would leave his sundae at three scoops.
She had only just gotten used to the cold of the ice cream when she felt something hot—not burning, but hot enough to make her jump, slightly—come into contact with her skin as well. Thicker than water, but drizzling against her abdomen all the same, she thought it was the caramel instead of the fudge.
Danielle lay still with difficulty as Victor quickly dressed his sundae, adding more toppings that she couldn’t identify but which felt thrilling against her skin nonetheless, slippery and sticky all at the same time.
She could feel the ice cream melting, and Victor must have realized it too—almost as soon as Danielle began to worry about becoming a sticky mess, she felt Victor’s hot breath against her hip, and then felt his hands holding her in place, forestalling her reaction to the ticklish sensation of him licking and sucking his dessert off of her abdomen.
She shook under his hands, moaning as Victor grew more aggressive, his tongue making contact with her skin every few moments, his mouth chasing the melting ice cream and sauces downward towards her already-wet pussy.
She squirmed as Victor worked downward, nibbling a little bit as he licked and sucked and kissed, seemingly determined to devour her along with the ice cream. He moved and shifted, pulling her legs wider, and then—just when Danielle couldn’t stand the suspense anymore—he buried his face against her pussy, nuzzling against her vulva with his still-cold lips.
Danielle moaned out as Victor sucked and licked, sliding his tongue along the seam of her labia, barely missing her clitoris. She writhed underneath and around him, pushing her hips down to get better contact as Victor worshipped her with his mouth, attacking her soaking wet pussy with his lips and tongue just as hungrily as he’d attacked the ice cream moments before.
Danielle reached down blindly, groping until her fingers found the thick, soft hair on top of Victor’s head and tangled in it. She gave herself up to the sensations, twisting her hips and squirming as Victor’s tongue and lips increased the tension deep down further than the pit of her stomach.
The tip of Victor’s tongue swirled against her clitoris and then darted to the slick folds of her inner labia, not quite penetrating her, teasing her—and then moving back up once more. Victor sucked her folds as much into his mouth as he could, flicking the wet, strong muscle of his tongue up and down along her labia, and Danielle’s hips bucked as she became more and more turned on, her fluids flowing more freely.
She groaned in frustration as Victor brought her to the edge of climax and then slowed down, again and again, teasing her relentlessly. There were moments in their sex life together—like the one happening right then—where Danielle wasn’t sure if she was more annoyed or impressed at how well Victor could read the signs of her mounting pleasure; it made it so easy for him to tease her like this, bringing her so close that she could almost taste the climax building up between her hips and then backing off just enough that she didn’t quite come.
Danielle tugged at Victor’s hair, pushing her hips down for better contact, and just when she thought she was going to get what she really wanted, Victor pulled away altogether.
“You have got to be kidding me,” Danielle said, sitting up and reaching around to the back of her head to remove the blindfold. “I thought this was supposed to be my big night!” Victor chuckled and Danielle scowled at him as the scarf fell away from her eyes and she could see him once more.
“I thought you wanted dessert, too,” Victor pointed out playfully.
“I thought you were going to let me come first,” Danielle countered, her voice tart with disappointment and frustrated desire. Victor took one of her hands in his and guided it to the front of his boxers—and it was only then that Danielle realized that he’d stripped down, too—for her to feel the rock-hard erection forming a heavy, hot bulge there, straining at the thin fabric.
“We have all night, Dani,” Victor pointed out, meeting her gaze with a slow smile. “When have I ever not made you come more than once?” Danielle had to admit that he was right, and something about him calling her Dani made her heart flutter—but she told herself she would think about that later.
“You’d better switch places with me then,” Danielle told him firmly. If he could bring her to the edge like that and disappoint her, she was going to get as much revenge as possible. She climbed down from th
e table and noticed that Victor had set up some rags and a basin of water for cleanup, along with ice for the containers of ice cream—it was well-planned, she had to admit. Victor mopped up the traces on the tabletop while Danielle wiped herself down, and then he took up the position she’d vacated, and Danielle pointed to the blindfold.
“Only fair,” Victor conceded, taking the scarf and tying it securely about his face. He lay back flat on the table, his legs open, and Danielle’s gaze trailed down over his lean, muscular form until she saw that he was now fully naked, his erect cock flushed purple-red from the intensity of his arousal.
She decided to take a different tack to what Victor had done to her and began scooping ice cream: caramel and cherry and chocolate, all gathered in the slight concavity just below his pectoral muscles, before his abdomen. Then she added her toppings, drizzling fudge and caramel over the ice cream and down along the ridges of his flat belly, almost to his navel. She sprayed little rosettes of whipped cream on his nipples, and in a little path from his navel down to the spot just above where his pubic hair gathered around his cock and balls.
Then, when she was fully satisfied with her artistry, Danielle attacked her sundae with gusto, licking and sucking the melting sweetness into her mouth. At first, she just focused on devouring as much of the ice cream and toppings as possible, to minimize the mess—but then as more and more of Victor’s body came clean, she began to tease him with her lips and tongue just as much as she went after the dessert itself, lapping at his skin and nibbling him playfully just as he had done to her.
She sucked the whipped cream from his nipples and—along with it—sucked the pebble-hard nubs between her lips, swirling the tip of her tongue around each one before moving on down along his body.
By the time she came to the little trail of whipped cream leading from his navel to just above his cock, Danielle was resigned to the fact that they had both made a huge mess—but she had more enjoyment to get out of her treat. She looked up at Victor’s face as she daintily licked the whipped cream, taking her time, torturing Victor as much as she could stand.
