It was hot. I turned the cake out of the pan and wiped my arm across my forehead, trying to keep the heat of the day and the sweltering kitchen from getting to me. Why hadn't we installed a central unit? For that matter, why didn't I have a fan in here to at least try and keep a breeze going while I was baking? Oh well, I didn't have time to worry about it now. I had to get the cake cooled and iced so we could take it to the party.
I lifted the cake on its plate and slid it into the freezer to cool more quickly, hoping the heat
wouldn't keep the cream from whipping. Before I closed the door, I pulled a piece of ice from the dispenser and ran it down my chin and neck, closing my eyes against the icy relief from the heat. Before I tossed it away into the sink, I ran it across the back of my neck, leaving a wet streak there to match the one on my front.
I moved over to where I had left the topping ingredients--the heavy cream and fresh ripened strawberries--and turned on the hand mixer to beat them together. Turning the mixer off after a couple of minutes, I dipped one finger into the bowl and tasted the concoction. Just about--
The hand on my shoulder scared me half to death. With a shriek, I whirled around, pulling the mixer from the bowl and splattering whipped cream and strawberries on everything within five feet.
"My God, you scared me to death!" I berated you as I looked around in dismay at the mess on the counter, the wall, you, me.
You grinned. "I called to you when I walked in, but I guess you didn't hear me."
"I certainly didn't. Look at this mess. I don't have time for this!" I slammed the mixer on the counter and reached for a damp dishcloth.
You reached out and stopped me, turning me around until I faced you. "I'm sorry. I thought you heard me." You studied my face for a long moment, you eyes locking with mine.
"You have whipped cream here." You touched the corner of my mouth. Leaning over, you licked the cream off.
My anger changed to another emotion entirely. I felt your tongue brush across my skin, tasting me, tasting the strawberries and cream. My heart lurched in my chest.
"You have some here." You licked my cheek. I was flushed from the heat of the kitchen, my scent mingling with that of the freshly baked cake and the sweet strawberries in the cream. You brought your hands up to hold my shoulders as you traced your tongue across my cheek, licking every splash of the cream away.
"Please..." I whispered, my eyes closing as I enjoyed the exquisite sensations jostling through me. You had to stop before I became a quivering mass of nerves and cravings. But I couldn't tell you that.
"And here." Your expert tongue moved down my throat, your lips closing over my skin, your hot, open, wet kisses driving the heat in my body to a critical level.
"The party..." I tried again. My knees were weak, my body pliant and soft. I wanted to sink into a puddle on the floor and pull you in with me. Lights whirled behind my closed lids. Delight spread as your mouth continued to touch me, caress me, drive me wild with increasing desire. I wanted more.
As if you could read my mind, you picked me up and set me on the edge of the table. Tilting my head back, you continued your assault on my throat, coming time and time again to the rapid pulse point. Then your lips moved lower, following the line of my top, capturing every speck of cream and berry that dotted my flushed skin.
You released my buttons, following the shadow of my breasts. 'Stop." I wished I had more force in my voice. "We'll be late for the party." Intellectually, I knew we had to stop, but every cell in my body cried out for more. Threading my fingers into your hair, I held you close to me, telling you to stop, yet making a mockery of that command by holding you so you could not.
"Just checking to make sure I get all that cream." You murmured in response as you trailed your tongue down the slope of one breast. Capturing the nipple, you sucked gently.
The flame seared me. I arched and offered myself to you as I clung to your head, wanting more, so much more as your touch drove me deep into passion.
You moved to the other nipple, licking it with soft little laps, pulling it into your hot mouth to lave... love. Your hands moved to my thighs, spreading them enough for you to step between them. Then you pulled me against you, settling my body into alignment with yours. Somehow, your shirt was unfastened though I didn't remember doing it, and my breasts were crushed against the muscles of your chest as your kisses moved to the sensitive spot behind my ear. I shivered as I
felt your warm breath stirring the air there.
"I told you about your hair," you rasped in my ear as you unfastened it from the topknot I had put it up in. "Putting it up just makes a man want to take it down." The waves of hair cascaded down, blanketing me, holding in the heat of your touch.
"It was cooler that way," I whispered, my lips tracing your jaw, my teeth gently nipping at your earlobe.
With a growl, you crushed my mouth beneath yours, tongue foraging into my mouth, branding me as yours for all time. I pressed in as I returned the kiss with passion. When your hands skimmed my hips, I thrust forward, settling the heat of my core on top of the strong ridge of your desire. Your fingers came around to slip beneath the edge of my shorts and caress the crease where thigh met hip and I moaned in wondrous delight.
Your hands moved to the front of my shorts and unbuttoned the top button before tugging the zipper gently downwards. "Lift up a second, hon," you murmured in my ear as your hands slid inside and skimmed down my hips, pushing cloth out of your way as you went. I lifted my hips slightly so you could slide the material under my buttocks, caressing me there as you did so before tugging the material down my legs and tossing it off onto the floor. I sighed as your hands settled
back onto my naked hips and rubbed myself against your straining zipper gently.
You groaned and pulled me harder against you for one moment before pushing me away. I protested wordlessly as I reached for you. "No, I don't want you to catch yourself on my zipper, darling." You smiled before disposing of my shirt as handily as you had my shorts.
.... There is more of this story ...