Chapter 46: After Laundry Night

Wednesday July 16, 2008

Cynthia and I were awakened at dawn by the women starting their laundry in the next room. The people were chatting quietly, but it was the machines noises that woke us. We had spent the night at the Laundry in the supervisor’s suite, designed for the person intended to keep the place running. But the machines purchased were very durable, and the people used them with care, so a keeper was not needed. Some of the comments I heard were about the presentation, about what life would be in the 20-story building.

The kitchen had packed a breakfast basket for us and delivered it in an oversized “milk slot” next to the door. (I imagine that few readers recall the days when a delivery of milk and perhaps eggs was made to houses in the city each morning. Those delivery slots remain in many older neighborhoods. Delivery was by truck from the farm and then by horse or by foot in the city.) Cynthia was surprised to have a fresh meal, still warm from the oven, that she could nibble in bed without getting dressed. Butter on warm flaky rolls - they were delicious and had to be eaten first, when hot - left us with no place to spread the berry jam until I pointed to the buns that Cynthia had with her. She was willing, she plopped down on the bed and served up her divine buns for me to spread the jam, then giggled as I liked her sweet bottom clean. Even for a Prince she said “turnabout is fair play,” so I served up the same. Her little kitten tongue may have strayed beyond the jam, we both served for the other with extra laughs. After that we were pretty shameless in our eating habits. When we returned the plates and utensils to the kitchen some did not need to be washed.

We did need another quick shower before we left, and as long as we were in the shower Cynthia decided she wanted me “one more time.” She knew how my overnight with baby-mama Gracie ended (they really got along well) and it was natural in her mind to finish up the same way - driving back to the house with my fresh cum in her body. She said that she was okay if I wanted to introduce her booty to a few of the guys, but we both knew that wasn’t going to happen. Instead she wanted a lot of playful oral fun in the shower before she bent over and I worked my cock into her body.

How could I say no to Cynthia? When she made the request she was deliberately posed like an erotic model, all kind of sexy showing her wet pussy and her tongue peeking out from her teeth, with sleepy eyes and a breathless tone of voice, caressing her pregnant lower tummy with one hand and offering an erect nipple, topped with a dollop of berry jam, with the other? Could any strong man say no to her?

I started with the nipple, licking the jam off then sucking it with enthusiasm until it was almost too much loving for her at that one spot. She had to ask, rhetorically, how long I though it would be before she was producing sweet nutritious milk ... for the baby as well?

I knew what she wanted.

We started in the shower where I got the water right. Then with me on my knees before her, I “encouraged” her nipples as the first priority because they were so important, plus they felt so good to both of us. Also, she had read that sucking them regularly contributed to milk production, and she really wanted to feel her body feeding me ... and my baby. Then after she backed into a corner I set my tongue to her pussy where I licked her aroused clit without mercy until she had a screaming climax. Without stopping I burrowed up the valley to her opening where I tongue-fucked her hole like a demon. She really liked that for a time, but it would not get her off, so she decided that maybe she had to try it from the back. So she turned around, cocked her hips to present her entrance, and hung onto the shower head as I worked her out.

For Cynthia, this morning, working my tongue from the back was in fact more successful, I could get the tip of my tongue in deeper so there was light, occasional contact tantalized the edge of her sensitive spot, building her excitement to an overloaded, “too turned on but can’t get off” level. In the process I accidently put the slightest amount of tension on her rosebud.

“What are you doing! That is so naughty ... nasty ... baby and I don’t want that today ... feels good ... no ... feels TOO good ... NO ... NO MORE...”

Cynthia used the “baby and I” line when she was real greedy for something specific that SHE wanted, even when what I was doing looked like going on another good track. I considered it very amusing, but I also knew it was better to keep my amusement to myself.

I should note that when her alter-ego of Sin-Sin took over, she was open for anything including anal with an audience. The baby was just along for the ride.

I backed off on her rosebud and gave her a chance to decide if it was time for the next stage. I was I going to be delighted to do that next stage. But she wanted a detour first.

As soon as I backed off she stood up straight, spun around, wrapped her arms around my neck and gave me a deep kiss. I knew she was seeking her own pussy flavor in my mouth, it was a reassurance of a sort that she craved. Next she started to move her mouth down my body, licking and kissing all the way, with lingering stops at both my nipples and, when I put my arms up, she dug her mouth into my underarms. This is a private act for us, one she never acknowledges out loud, not even to Abril or Pammie. For her, it is a very private intimate kiss, our secret, something more private than rimming, and a stronger sign of two-way affection than anything else. She knows I eat other pussies, and do all manner of other things, but she believes that her doing this, and my letting her do it, is very close to exclusive as a bond between us. (She acknowledges that anything I do with Marta is special, because she is like my mother, and not anything like girlfriend.) Also, she likes doing it to me more than having it done to her. I can turn off the ticklish thing when she does it, but she can’t and being ticklish overrides the romance part.

She kept the mouth thing going until she got to my cock. There she spent a long time kissing (not sucking) with an excess of attention paid to underneath, the bottom of my shaft and my “wonderful life giving” balls. It was another indication that she was in a very baby-mama sort of mood.

That was when I put together that she recently had the sleepover with my two future wives, Mer and Pur. She was trying to assure herself of her own status in her own mind, vis-a-vis them those two charmers, who were selected to birth my heirs.

After a longer-than-usual period of oral worship, she asked if I would like to move forward as planned, or if I had another idea.

I wondered out loud about “where.”

She stressed how she wanted it from behind, standing, in the shower. But shower floors are the worst in any house and these were worse than average for slipperiness, so I mentioned that it was a potential concern for the baby. I suggested that maybe bending her over using the overstuffed chair was a better idea, to make sure we finished without anybody slipping.

She gave a sigh at the safety concern and agreed.