Date: Mon, 23 Feb 2004 19:09:41 +0000 (GMT) From: matriarch Subject: Chocolate Sauce and handcuffs Chocolate Sauce and Handcuffs (Or Practice Makes Perfect) By Matriarch (please feel free to send me your comments: matriarch49@yahoo.co.uk) The snapshot of the t-shirt and my reaction is true, and amused me so much I sent details of it to several friends and fans. Their responses inspired me greatly, and the following was written as a result of one of those responses. I hope the woman that inspired it, enjoys reading it. I know I enjoyed writing it. The usual health warning: this is a work of fiction and the activities recounted here could cause injury. Care should be taken...etc. etc...........yeah, right, *wink*. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ I had been wandering aimlessly around the shopping centre, not looking for anything in particular, just looking, when my eye was caught by a new t-shirt shop. I have a weakness for t-shirts with clever slogans, and decided to have a look around. I glanced over the shop window, dismissing the tacky cartoons and TV soaps, when suddenly something registered and my head snapped back to a subtle, dark blue shirt in the corner of the window, with almost invisible silver writing on it. I looked closer, and what I read, made me laugh out loud to the surprise of several shoppers walking past. Controlling my mirth, I looked again, and read it quietly to myself: "You, me, chocolate sauce and handcuffs. Any questions?" Chuckling again I decided I had to have this one. Even if I didn't have the nerve to wear it, it would make a great e-mail quote of the day to send round to my online friends. With a big grin on my face, I went in and bought one. The size? Shame on you, never ask a lady her size, that's worse than asking her age. Suffice it to say, I'm no Twiggy. As an added bonus, when I bought the shirt, they threw in a pair of handcuffs (joke ones, no key), and a tube of chocolate sauce. I was smiling quietly at the possibilities all afternoon. Later, on returning home, I dropped the bag with the shirt and extras on the landing outside my bedroom, and thought no more about it as I prepared supper. A few friends from my creative writing class were coming over for the evening to go over our latest attempts, and share ideas, with each of us providing something towards a casual supper. I had never bothered to hide my sexual preferences from the group. When, in general conversation over coffee, the question of partners, spouses, whatever, had come up, I had simply told the truth, that my sexual preference is for women, but presently am happy to be living on my own. Nothing more was said. Among the group was a young woman called Lizzie, who had made it quite plain that she would not be averse to a little extra creative activity, at least, that was my interpretation of the signals she was giving out. Whether the rest of the group noticed was a debatable question. I had not decided what to do about it, if anything. The doubt was not one of mutual attraction - oh yes, I fancied her something rotten, the problem was a question of age. I am in my late forties, she's in her early twenties. That evening, in the intimacy of my own home, it seemed to me that she was even more pronounced in her attentions, and after supper, I noticed that every time I happened to look up, she was watching me, smiling at me, with what appeared to be a very knowing smile on her face. Once or twice I had an almost uncontrollable urge to loosen an invisible collar growing tighter around my neck, in direct proportion to the growing heat of my skin. Finally, the evening over, everyone prepared to leave, and just as I was about to close the door on them, Lizzie turned around and asked if she could use the bathroom, "Or I won't make it home." I smiled in sympathy; I knew that feeling only too well. She had used the bathroom earlier in the evening so knew the way. As she went upstairs, I closed the door, and went into the kitchen, where, to the accompaniment of the radio (Classic FM if you must know), cleared away the supper things. I was so engrossed in the music - a concert performance of Puccini's Madame Butterfly,that it was a while later before I realised that Lizzie had not come downstairs from the bathroom. Worried that something might be wrong, I made my way up the stairs, listening all the time, but hearing nothing. On the landing, with a sudden lurching feeling in my stomach, I noticed that the bags containing my shopping had been moved, and the t-shirt was lying on top of the pile, but there was no sign of the chocolate sauce or handcuffs. With a dry mouth I checked the bathroom, which was empty, then the guest bedroom, which was also empty. That left only my own bedroom. Suddenly, my heart was pounding, my hands were trembling, my temperature was rising again, and that invisible collar was getting tighter. Taking a deep breath, I pushed open the door, and stopped in my tracks. If I'd been closer to the floor, my jaw would have hit it. There, lying on my bed, was Lizzie. Completely naked, covered in rivulets of chocolate sauce, running over her firm breasts and stomach, down over her shaved - (gasp!) - mons, and her hands cuffed to the headboard. I was speechless, my mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. "What......why......?" I stammered, with not only my face burning at the sight of her, laid out before me. She smiled softly at me, her dark eyes burning into me, "I saw your t-shirt," her voice lowering to a soft purr, "There are no questions here, ma'am. Do you have any?" Her eyes drew me closer, I seemed unable to resist as I approached the bed, eyes wide in shock, heart and pussy thumping in sudden undeniable lust. My eyes meeting hers, I whispered, "Why?" She smiled at me again, seeming calm, although I noticed out of the corner of my eye that her hips were moving slowly back and forth; her legs were spread wide on the bed, some of the chocolate sauce running over her mons and down between her legs, coating her very moist looking lips. "Because, sweet Mary, I want you. I've tried to tell you over the past weeks, how much, but the message didn't seem to be getting through, so when I saw the t-shirt, it seemed too good an opportunity to miss." Her lips still moving, her voice quietened. "I want you to touch me, kiss me, eat me, make my pussy drip for you. Can't you see it already, how wet I am for you, my cream and the chocolate combining to make a sweet treat. For you." I stood there, unable to move, trembling, just looking, breathing in the scents in the room, the aroma of chocolate warmed by her skin, blending with her scent. Tentatively, seeming to have a mind of its own, my hand reached out, one finger gently moving over the soft shivery skin of a breast, gathering the running chocolate, and moving it upwards, over a hardening nipple, swirling gently over it, inhaling at the sound of her soft whimpers, her back arching, lifting the breast closer to me, wanting more of my touch, pushing herself, her soft trembling breast into my hand. Unable to resist, my hand closed over the flesh, gently squeezed it, pulling the nub into the palm of my hand. I heard her gasp, saw her biting her lip, her body trembling and the skin flushing with a sudden heat, her eyes looked hotly on me, her back arching up to meet my hand, the nipple crinkling, aching for my touch, as she whimpered and pleaded softly, "Yes, please touch me." My breathing shallow, I lifted my chocolate covered trembling hand, and moved closer to her, offering it to her open, panting mouth, her eyes on me as her tongue snaked out and slowly licked over my hand, between my fingers, sucking each digit into her soft, sweet mouth, taking them deep into her, making me tremble more. She swirled her tongue around the tip of each finger before pursing her lips around it and slowly sliding them down to the knuckle, her tongue gently fluttering between them, moving over each digit, tasting the chocolate, and looking up to me from dark lust-filled eyes. I stopped breathing until the hand was cleaned, her face now coated with the chocolate. With a slow smile, I pulled my fingers from her mouth, lowered my head to hers, allowing my tongue to move and lick gently over her face, tasting and cleaning the chocolate from her warm skin and around her lips, touching, not probing, then her cheeks and chin. She was moaning louder by now, vibrating into me, her mouth open and wanting, as finally, finally, she felt my lips move to hers, move over them, brush lightly back and forth, my tongue teasing the inside of each lip, before gently sliding into her mouth. At this touch, her moans became whimpering groans, as her lips hungrily searched for my tongue. The lust increased, lips melded together in a searing kiss, as she felt my hand once more move to cover one of her breasts, caressing, stroking, squeezing. My tongue moved over hers, tasting and caressing, while my hand moved over her breast, feeling and touching, a finger and thumb capturing the hard nipple and squeezing and rolling it, making it grow, become harder. Our mouths parted wider, tongues danced and probed at each other, our soft moans rolling over everything. I moved one hand to gently stroke my fingertips along the underside of her arm held securely above her head by the cuffs, the touch on so sensitive a place, making her tremble, turning her whimpers into a long moan from deep inside. Her mouth sucked harder and deeper on my tongue, pulling it into her, holding it there, keeping me inside her. My fingers continued to trail up and down her arm, the intensity of the touch, making her body thrust upwards, her arms strained against the cuffs holding her for our mutual pleasure, her hands stretched and clawed yearning to touch me, as my tongue continued to ravage her mouth, and her lips and mouth sucked deeply in return. As my hand left her breast she gasped, and I began my journey downwards, over her ribs and sides, fingertips brushing over soft, trembling skin, adding more convulsive shudders, moans and groans to the growing cacophony of ecstasy. I moved onwards to her heaving belly, circling a fingertip into the well of liquifying chocolate in her navel and increasing her moans and pleas. "Oh God, Mary, please, please." I lifted my head from her mouth, smiling. "Please what, sweet Lizzie?" She groaned, eyes closed against the sensations as my tongue moved to lick along her neck and jaw, tease over her lips and my hands continued to caress her tingling skin. "Please Mary, fuck me!" she moaned, as my tongue returned to her mouth, and my fingers moved lower, over her tummy to her fleshy, shaved mons. So soft, so silky, with the added texture of the slippery chocolate, the feeling in my fingertips transmitting directly to my own centre, making me moan in deep pleasure into her mouth. Her hips moved urgently against my hand, thighs spread wider, open to me, moist, slippery lips willing me to take her, begging my hand to enter. Suddenly I stopped, as I heard the phone ringing, distracting me, my mouth lifting from hers, my tongue coming away with a loud plop as it left her panting mouth. There was no way I was going to answer that. Not now. Not at this moment. I turned my head back to her, to see her hot, burning eyes on me, raking over me, mouth wide and panting, lips moist, from her own tongue moving over them, searching for my taste, hips moving against my hand, legs wide for me.............I removed my hand, and moved away from her, ignoring her moaned "No, no, please." as, with a soft smile, I began to remove my clothes. With our eyes on each other I first grasped and lifted my t-shirt, throwing it away, my hands moving then to the jeans, unzipping and letting them fall, shucking them off my hips with a wiggle and kicked them away to join the t-shirt. She groaned loudly, and gently pressed her thighs together in an attempt to stop or reduce the sensations she was feeling. I could see and smell her arousal, the moisture on her lips. Her eyes were now burning into me, devouring me, blazing over the soft black bra encasing my large, generous breasts, and black high-side panties, encasing equally generous hips. Slowly I reached behind me, to unclasp the bra, sliding it off my shoulders. As I let it drop to the floor I smiled at her low moan as she got her first sight of my large, firm nipples, the expanse of soft silky flesh, and her tongue moved over already wet lips, wanting to taste and feel my nipples. My thumbs moved to my panties, hooked into the waist and slid them down my legs, to join the rest. I had the grace to blush at that point, as I watched her eyes move slowly over my whole body, head to toes, taking in the expanse of flesh, the contrast of still dark curls on my mons, to the grey on my head, the generous proportions of the whole body, in contrast with her own small, firm breasts, narrow waist and gently swelling hips and belly. I listened with pleasure to the low moan of desire she made as I revealed myself to her, saw how she licked her lips, as if trying to taste me. Her eyes pleaded with me to return to her, and willingly I moved back, climbed on to the bed, to kneel astride her hips and inhaled, my eyes closing briefly at the feel of the smooth slippery chocolate against my pussy lips, also freshly shaven. Her eyes had followed my every moment, and my breath had quickened as I became fully aware that she had seen how my lips were swollen and glistening with my arousal as I had swung one leg over her, parting my legs and lips. I trembled at the knowledge that she had seen the deep red of my silky inner folds, seen how much I wanted her. I slid over her warm skin, moving further up her body, my breasts coming closer and closer to her mouth. My face now hovering over hers, eyes on hers, voice so low she could hardly hear me, "Would you like one of these, sweet Lizzie? Would you like to suck me?" I felt her body shudder beneath me, heard her moan of desire, as my breast hovered over her mouth, and an answering moan from me as I fed my nipple into her mouth, gasping at the strength of her suck, taking the nipple and part of the flesh into her wide, hot mouth, her tongue lashing the nipple, making me shudder, as I did her. I cried out, "Oh god!" as my hips moved against her warm skin, sliding on the chocolate, coating my lips and my curls, and for a few moments, I simply revelled in the feel of her mouth on my breast and her skin under my lips. With a deep breath, I eased my breast from her mouth, and bending quickly, leaning my weight on my elbows, fiercely pressed my lips to hers, mouth open wide, devouring, inhaling, tongue probing deeply, firmly, lustfully, my body sliding downwards, until our hips began moving against each other, my hands resting on the sides of her breasts. I lifted my head, my lips lying against hers, panting, whispering, my eyes burning into hers, "Too late to back out now Lizzie, I'm going to fuck you, " and moved down her body, my hands trailing over her breasts, briefly caressing and squeezing. On down her sides, making her tremble at the touch, her moans a constant background to my touches, her hips bucking against me, her legs wide and welcoming for me. As I moved lower between her legs, my lips drifted over her stomach, my tongue briefly teased her navel, then down over her silky smooth mons, lingering there, my tongue sliding over the soft fleshy mound, licking and sucking, making her moan more. "Oh God, Mary........please....", and at her pleading, I moved finally to softly cover her lips, French kissing her cunt, my tongue tentatively probing her lips, tasting the juices flowing freely now. I felt her wrapping her legs around my back and pulling my face closer into her sweet lips. She moaned and rolled back against the bed as my tongue explored her, pressing her chocolate coated pussy against my lips. Her head rolled back in pleasure, her hips rolling gently in a small circle against my face, coating me with a delicious, sweet mix of chocolate and her juices. With my face now pressed into Lizzie's sweet wetness, my lips over hers, I sucked on each one, gently drawing each into my mouth, nibbling lightly with my teeth, before sliding my tongue over the length of it and moving to the other lip. I loved the way they were engorged with her arousal, becoming plump and sweet, filling my mouth with their silkiness, making me light-headed with the feel and smell. I was aware of everything, her legs around my back, her feet drawing me into her, holding me against her, my hands sliding under her hips, pulling her hard against me. With a low moan of need I finally plunge my tongue deeply into her hot depths, holding her hips firmly as she began to writhe against my touch, my intimate caress. I withdrew my tongue and before plunging back in, drew it lightly up and over her button, making her hips lift sharply towards me, a sharp cry left her mouth and her back arched off the bed. I could hear her crying out, "Mary, Mary, please...." Gently, so gently, I moved to her clit, took it between my lips and slowly sucked it between them, holding it, as my tongue moved over it, and at the same time, moved one hand from her hip and slid two fingers into her depths. So wet, there was no resistance, as I crossed the fingers, twisting and turning plunging them deeply into her, then out, then back in, the sounds from her throat becoming strangled cries. As she felt her orgasm rising, she could no longer hold out, I withdrew the fingers, and formed a wedge with a third, which I plunged back into her, filling her, fucking her, as my lips held her clit to my tongue now moving over it constantly in time to the plunging. Finally, with a sharp upward movement of her hips against my fingers and face, her body arched off the bed in ecstasy, her legs gripped my head tightly, as she thrust again and again at the parts of me bringing her so much pleasure. A low guttural moan came from deep inside of her, and in one final paroxysm of pleasure, one final push against me, as my fingers sink deeply into her, I felt her walls gripping my fingers, her clit hard and throbbing beneath my tongue, and the extra flow of her juices coating my fingers, blending deliciously with the chocolate sauce coating her lips and my face. Again and again, I felt her muscles squeeze me, as her orgasm rolled on, until with a final moan of pleasure, her body sank to the bed, chest heaving with her exertions, my fingers still deep inside her, my lips gently kissing over her lips, avoiding the now sensitive clit. Slowly her breathing slowed, the grip on my fingers became less, and I was able to gently remove them. Her legs had long ago lost their grip on my head, and had flopped wide on the bed, enabling me to move upwards between them, kissing over her skin as I went, now glistening with sweat as well as chocolate. She was making soft, happy noises as I kissed up her body, lingering for a short pleasurable while over her breasts, laughing at the way she squirmed under me, trying to get away, as my tongue slid over her hard nipples. Eventually, I relented and lay myself over her, my face close to hers, looking at her face, kissing softly over her lips and cheeks and eyes, completely dumbstruck at how my evening had changed, at what I had just done....we had just done. Her breathing gradually slowed, and with a soft, contented moan, she opened her eyes, smiling into my eyes. "Oh, Mary.....Mary.....if I'd known you were going to be that good, I wouldn't have waited so long for you." Lifting her head from the pillow, she gently kissed my nose, before dropping it back. "Thank you, that was wonderful." I was grinning now, like a smug teenager. It had been some time since I'd had a lover, but apparently I hadn't lost the touch. But like riding a bike, I guess, that old saying, you never forget, just need a bit of practice to get back in the swing of it. Well, if its practice I needed, then practice I would get. I bent my head and began to whisper in Lizzie's ear, describing the practice regime I thought would work, and bring her, as well as me, a great deal of pleasure. Her grin, and moans of agreement were all I needed, and as I lifted myself from her, and moved to a drawer by my bed, I knew it had been a good idea to keep my toys.......you never knew when they would be needed. And by the look on Lizzie's face, the way her hips moved, the shiver that rippled through her body when she saw them, I know she agreed. Practice makes perfect. Lots of practice.