Flavored Lover

Author: Cecilia

I had been with Eddie for about four years. We had been married for two. I know it seems pretty vanilla…Marrying the two-year boyfriend, and settling down. We don’t have kids yet, which is okay. We are still enjoying being young and adventurous at the moment. Last night especially. We had settled down to watch a scary movie, a rented tape from the local video store. The movie was pretty good. I don’t much care for splatter films, which was what we rented. In the end, as planned, and as usual, I was clinging to Eddie. As the credits rolled, as always, thankfully, his hands started to roam over me.

I reached down to the coffee table and picked a maraschino cherry out of it. Some people like popcorn, others like snowcaps. I like cherries for movies. A carry over from a family tradition of it, I suppose. Or perhaps I just really liked cherries. Either way, as I munched it, I was pressed to the back of the couch, and kissed deeply. My hands started to roam as well, the passion of our love for one another becoming apparent. I unbuttoned his shirt, which he was still wearing from work. I pulled it off of him, then his T-shirt, the scene looking more like a heated moment in a porn flick than a couple of lovers just wanting to spend some time together. I felt as if we were trying to fit the moment in between commercial stops or something. Still, I loved that feral, greedy feeling of animalistic passion we got when we moved fast, our hearts beating as one to answer the cries of longing within our bodies and our souls.

I unbuttoned Eddie’s pants, and smiled at him, telling him to just relax and enjoy. While I normally love to partake in the pleasure Eddie can give, and join him in the physical bonding of our marriage any chance I can get, the timing was not particularly good for that, so for now, I would be more than happy to bring pleasure to my lover. I pulled his pants down, and then off of him carefully, looking into his eyes, and tracing my lips with my tongue, letting him know what he was in for. I pulled his erect shaft from his pants. His physical validation of his feelings for me, not waning at all, even after four years. He still lusted for me like I was his girlfriend. I pumped that firm flesh for a few seconds, and looked up at him. He was watching me.

I blushed, and looked away. It always embarrassed me when he watched me pleasure him, though I am not sure I understand exactly why. It just did. As I looked away, though, I found myself looking at the cherries in the bowl on the table. I smiled almost wickedly then, with a sudden and playful thought. Something I had never done before. I took a few of the cherries, three or four of them, in my hand. Soaked in the maraschino juice, they were sweet, wet, and slick. I wrapped my hand, with the cherries, around his thick, ridged shaft. I then started to slowly slide my hands up and down, squeezing my palm against that throbbing flesh, and crushing the cherries, rubbing their sweet juices up and down his length. He gritted his teeth, making mention at first that they were cold, and then offering no other protest. Any other complaining was stolen away, as I leaned in, slipping down onto my knees in the floor in front of the couch, and starting to firmly and eagerly lick the tip of his now very sweet cock.

I had never ‘flavored’ my lover before, but I suddenly had a new found love for pleasuring him this way. He would be enjoying this again, I already knew. I pumped my hand a little longer as I teased the tip of his hard shaft with my tongue, before moving my hands away, and most of the crushed bodies of those sweet cherries. His shaft was a little more pink than usual in their sugary juices. I took him in. As deep as I could.

Slowly I pressed my head down, until I had him almost to the back of my throat. Then, as he groaned loudly, pressing his toes to the floor helplessly, his legs shaking with pleasure, I began to stroke my head up and down, letting his masculinity slide in and out of my hot mouth. He gritted his teeth, clutching the arm of the couch, a little out of breath now, as I pressed his sensitive member to the roof of my mouth with my strong, counter-stroking tongue. I slid that velvety hot wet flesh against the bottom of his cock, cradling the tip against it on each outward sweep, before pressing it to the roof of my mouth as I pressed him in again.

Faster and harder I moved my head, holding his thighs with eager hands. The salt of his precum mixing with the sweet of the cherries actually gave him a very unique zing, which made me crave his pleasure even more. I know he could tell the increase in zeal for the task at hand, as he was really making quite a bit of noise now, heavily panting with need and desire, and moans of the growing pleasure he was feeling. I held him firmly, not letting him move, and bringing myself to a brisk pace that, even at his feral, vulgar cries and demands, I did not speed up or altar in any way. His cries became more and more insistent, as I enjoyed the taste of the cherries just as much as the act of making love to my husband. With a start, he finally gasped, and jerked ridged, shuddering, his muscles flexed.

I started swallowing quickly, knowing well by now, what it meant. The taste of cherries mixed suddenly with a semi-sweet taste of his thick, hot cum. It pulsed fast and hard down my tongue to the back of my throat, where it was swallowed away quickly. Eddie grunted and thrashed a bit, holding my head, making me slow down, as he panted heavily, spent fully in my mouth. I held him there a bit more, letting him enjoy the warm tightness of my mouth, before slowly getting up, and sitting back on the couch, picking up the bowl of cherries, and sharing them with my beloved.

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