I gasp when I feel it, a viscous liquid spreading over my skin. Is it honey? Syrup? It smells sweet and possibly chocolatey. Since the blindfold blocks all sight, my other senses seem sharper. I feel each drizzle as it moves up my thigh.
His thick fingers part the bare lips of my pussy and I feel that same liquid as it drenches my clit. It’s warm, warmer than my core body temperature. The drizzle moves up toward my navel, then I feel the warmth of a little puddle as it fills my belly button. Next, it’s on my nipples. I feel it drip in a circle around each tip.
The swipe of a tongue over my clit. “Ah.” The word bursts from me at the surprise of it. He sucks the little bud into his mouth and I lift my hips, trying to get more. He pulls away immediately, leaving me groaning.
I hear the clatter of a dish being set back on the table. The tink, tink of a spoon against porcelain. I pull in a sharp breath as something icy drops onto my stomach. It’s a blob of something and I feel it start to melt against the hot, syrupy liquid still spread over my abdomen. Ice cream?
Another clink of a spoon, but this time, nothing touches my skin. I wait. Anticipation tingles over my skin as I listen.
“Fuck,” I shout when I feel the contrast of a hot mouth and an icy tongue as it licks a circle around my clit.
Then he uses his tongue to press the ice cream against my clit. His tongue moves in undulating waves, with the cold cream melting between us.
When he pulls away, I’m panting. I was getting close to the edge way too fast. This whole experience is a study in dichotomy, hot and cold, fast and slow, blocking senses and sharpening senses, pleasure and pain.
Then his cold-hot mouth is on my nipple. My back arches at the foreign sensation. He sucks hard, pulling at my breast. I feel the tug all the way down to my clit. My hips shift. If I could press my legs together, I would. I need some friction.
“So desperate,” he whispers.
I bite my lower lip to keep from demanding anything. If I do, he’ll draw this out even longer. More ice cream coasts over my nipples. As it melts against my skin, drips of it slide down, tickling my skin as they go.
This continues until my body is a sticky mess and my hips lift over and over in quiet desperation. Each touch of his lips or mouth to my skin pulls a moan from me. I try to press myself harder against him. He laps up everything he’s spread over my body. With slow diligence, he cleans up the entire mess with his tongue, leaving my pussy until last.
When his mouth finally closes over my clit, flicking and sucking and tugging, I scream. All my muscles contract at once until I’m frozen, quivering as pleasure bursts inside of me.
Colors explode behind the dark material of the blindfold. I pump my hips up over and over and over, drawing out my orgasm. Letting shudder after shudder of relief and release work its way down my spine until my body is a warm puddle, just as the syrup was.
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