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You sigh sleepily as you stir, your senses just awakening as you take everything in. The morning birds outside the window chirp melodiously in conversation, before fluttering their wings as they move on to the next garden. The cool caress of silk bedsheets soothes your naked body, and you welcome it like ice on your sore muscles, sensitive from a long night of what you can only describe as the best sex of your life.
Just thinking about the previous night has you riled up, blushing in recalling the erotic ways Kassandra could manuever her tongue. Rolling against your clit, parting your lips with her fingers, delving her tongue deep and curling in so many directions, lapping up the mess you’d inevitable make with vocal cries of God’s name. She made you come in ways you didn’t think were even possible, your body pleasantly on fire, your vision filled with blazing white light.
Sitting upright, you stretch your muscles above your head with an elongated yawn, when a sugary smell wafts into the bedroom and tantalises your nostrils as you inhale. You have a quick scout around the room in search of something simple to throw on, your eyes settling on a satin robe hung up on the wardrobe door. Haphazardly tying the sash, you pad out the door and find Kassandra in the kitchen.
The radio plays something upbeat; you smile at the sight of her shuffling her feet and singing, dressed simply in a white camisole and a pair of knickers. Her once pristine braid lies over her shoulder in a messy do, hair static and sticking out from the plait in a way that reminds you of how thoroughly debauched the two of you looked last night.
She flips a pancake and smiles over her shoulder at the sight of you leaning in the doorway.
“Good morning, sunshine!” She beams. “Hope I didn’t wake you.”
“Inadvertently,” you tease, chuckling. “I doubt anyone could stay sleeping for long when something this divine is cooking under their nose.”
She grins in response, taking your kiss to her cheek before you take a seat at the table, impressed by the spread before you. Bowls of mixed berries, marshmallows and chopped bananas are arranged around a large placemat, along with a tub of Nutella, butter and a bottle of syrup. A freshly-steaming pot of tea captures your attention too, your throat suddenly reminding you that you’re parched.
You pour yourself a drink as she wanders over, presenting a mountainous stack of pancakes which she places in the middle of the table. After leaning down to kiss you properly, she sits opposite you and laughs at the way your mouth hangs open at the pile of food, encouraging you to dig in with a wink.
The pancakes are the best you’ve ever tasted. Buttery sweet with a hint of vanilla, they’re fluffy and moreish, melting in your mouth as you moan in indulgence. You pace yourself, not wanting the experience of tasting these to be over too soon, savouring the way your palate hums pleasantly when the food makes contact with your tastebuds. If the sex was fantastic, you’re out of words to describe the breakfast.
Once the both of you are finished eating, you clear the table and wash up. Standing in the kitchen, leaning on the counter as you sip your drink, you ask if she has any plans for today. She hums, approaching you, her fingers playing with your sash as she looks up with a sinful smirk. Lacing kisses along your neck until she reaches your ear, she nips the earlobe between her teeth and murmurs, “If the lady wills it, I’d very much like to take her back to bed.”
She tugs sharply on the sash and the robe falls open, revealing your bare breasts to her. You swallow, averting your gaze coyly. Is she seriously undressing you in her kitchen right now?
Her lips move down the front of your throat, moaning sensuously knowing the vibrations will elicit a needy response from you. Darting her tongue out at your collar bone, her hands take your hips and draw you closer, her fingers pressing the curves in a way that has your head slump to the side, your lower lip quivering as you mewl in pleasure.
You feel her smirk when her lips reach your breasts. She glances up at you through her eyelashes for a moment before lapping her tongue at a nipple, pouting her lips and suckling it into her mouth, stretching the sensitive bud and grazing her teeth over it lightly as it hardens. Pulling back to study her handiwork, she audibly smiles as the stiff nipple juts out against the air, slippery and glistening with a sheen of her saliva.
You eventually find your voice, responding to her proposal.
“The lady definitely wills it.”
Her eyes crease shut with a sweet smile. She takes your hand and you return to the bedroom; her hands disposing of the robe and lifting her shirt over her head before pushing you back with a giggle, climbing on top of you and cupping your face for a deep kiss, her tongue probing at your entrance.
She pulls up for a second, a wicked grin on her face. Before you can question, she quickly gets up and returns to the bed, the satin sash of the robe in her hands.
“Give me your hands, my love.”
You gulp and look into those seductive brown eyes, feeling the urge in this moment to do anything and everything your lover asks of you.
“Good girl,” she purrs, throwing your arms back, and beginning the sweet torture on your body.
You realise with an erotic coo, your wrists struggling against the tight restraints, your hips writhing with the proximity of her mouth blowing hot puffs of air against your skin, that you can never get enough of this woman or her glorious touch.