The Erotic Writer

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Honey Nut

I’m certain I’m not the only dirty mind that’s thought of this, but I decided to have a go at it anyway: a humorous — and hopefully sweet — fantasy. – X

My cock rose with the sun every day, and every day, I’d wake to the hot wet suction of her mouth or her small, eager hands squeezing and jerking. I was exhausted and I wanted nothing more than a couple of hours more of blissful slumber, a respite from all the merciless friction, but there was none — nor would there ever be.

They all came, panting like feral dogs craving sweetness, and they had all the power. We were bigger, but they were more powerful. They seduced us with their own brand of sweetness and made us slaves to their relentless hunger.

I didn’t open my eyes but I smelled the perfumed steam of jasmine tea, the pleasant yeasty scent of fresh-baked biscuits. Breakfast was her favorite meal, and it simply wasn’t the same without me.

“I don’t think I have anything left.” My voice was still rough with sleep. She cooed, and the tip of her tongue punched into my peeslit for sweetness.

My soul was weary but my body still responded… a clear drop of precum grew on the tip of my cock as she watched, rapt.

“That will never get old.” She slowly sipped it, then licked her lips. “I’m one of the few that prefer it to what comes after, but there’s just not nearly enough to go around,” she said as she kneaded my balls and stroked my shaft. She was such an expert that she could fade into her own private thoughts as she jerked me off. It could be unnerving, if not a bit humiliating.

Milk me, why don’t you? It seems that’s all I’m good for.

I thrust my hips forward to get her attention, and she snapped back into focus and smiled at me.  I was hard and ready, and I wanted to fuck. Well, I always wanted to fuck, but she rarely had the heart to waste one of my loads in her pussy (or her ass).

I rarely got to, but it never hurt to ask. Or better said: It never hurt to beg.

“I want inside you.”  She shook her head.

“Not today, sweet thing. Maybe later? I’ve got to finish breakfast and get ready for work, or who’ll take care of you and keep you happy and producing for me?” She took me into her mouth, and her tongue flicked underneath the head of my cock until I curled into myself. I groaned.

“Mmmm, almost done.” She sucked a finger wet and slid it into my asshole. I winked tightly around her but she was good – she pressed into my sweet spot and I dripped wetness. She licked it off my shaft, mindful not to lose a single drop. Her eyes were cloudy with lust.

My belly tightened with excitement. I knew that look.

“Well, maybe I can ride you for a little bit…” I tried to grab her around her waist, but she sat back down.

“You have to promise-”

“You have my word.” Truthfully, I couldn’t promise anything, but I’d certainly try. She peeled off her sleep shirt and crawled on top of me, her firm tits bobbing. She squeezed up my shaft until she’d drained most of the precum out onto her fingers, then sat down on me with a moan.

Fuck yeah! This is what it was meant for, to be squeezed and milked and sucked by a pussy until it was sticky sweet… not the other thing. I was so eager I bucked my hips into her and squeezed her tits, but she was reserved. She was worried I wouldn’t keep my promise. I sighed with resignation, a man accepting his destiny.

“I promise I’ll warn you in time,” I said, looking at her gravely. She put her hands on my chest and arched her back.

“Alright then.” She began to make figure eights with her hips while her cunt muscles pulsed around me. I got goosebumps. She made me promise not to explode, then she fucks me like this?

How cruel!

She eyed her breakfast tray longingly and fucked me faster. She was hungry, but  damn it, so was I! I couldn’t help wishing I could fill her up, lay her on her back, push her knees up against her chest and lick out all the mingled nectar… my balls tightened, and I winced.

“Ooh, it’s time!” she said, and wiggled off.

“Fuck!” I pouted as she knelt between my legs to jerk me off.

“I don’t mind my own brand, but that’s overkill.” I was slick with her wetness, so she picked up her sleep shirt and dried off the tip of my cock as she stroked. She licked her finger and slid it back into my asshole.

“Oh come now, don’t be mad. I’m just so hungry,” she said, and licked my balls. She sucked one into her mouth, then the other as she poked and jerked. My balls slid out of her mouth and she smiled up at me.

“Since you kept your promise, I’ll make you one – you can have me all to yourself tonight when I get home. What do you say?” My heart rose, and I spread my legs and nodded.

I can fuck and come in her until she’s dripping down her thighs like a broken honeycomb…

“I’m almost there,” I said, graciously warning her. She extended her other arm to the breakfast tray and debated for a precious second – the tea, or the biscuits? She grabbed the plate of biscuits and held them near my cock with one hand while she jerked with the other. Although all the men in the world (including me) are milked multiple times a day from the time we hit puberty, the look of absolute pleasure that always makes the milker’s face glow never gets old. It serves to remind me of my place in the world – to give sweetness and satisfaction to those around me.

My come rose up my shaft and my balls tightened, ready to give her what she wanted. Her finger pressed firmly into my sweet spot and I finally pulsed, dripping thick, opaque yellow honey on her biscuits.

“Mmmhmm…that’s the stuff,” she whispered as she  squeezed every last drop of it onto her breakfast. She sucked and licked my shaft clean until there was no more even though I trembled from the sensation.

“Thank you, baby.”  She smeared my sweet, sticky sap on her biscuits. She handed me a plate of scrambled eggs and a glass of pineapple juice – food meant to keep me strong and sweet.

“You’re welcome, Mistress.”

About ximenawrites

I undulate in your vision A strange beauty in a world of plastic, collagen and steel The endearing oddball the living, breathing Picasso that you want to figure out but too afraid to venture into my penumbra you cower at the gate, fingering the knob on the door to my most secret place wishing you could find the courage to walk with me love me, just as I am

4 comments on “Honey Nut

  1. vanillamom
    September 15, 2011

    oooh, dirty girl….

    i liked it!

    i don’t think i’ve smiled so much in days…thanks for a hot, descriptive scene…it was painted so exquisitely it was like being there, in the corner, watching how it’s done…

    nilla

  2. Paul
    September 15, 2011

    Ximena,
    very hot, Mistress!
    This could be great for a while, and then become a nightmare.
    It is a young girl’s dream, just as a stable of young and willing fillies is a young man’s.
    Warm hugs,
    Paul.

    • ximenawrites
      September 15, 2011

      This could be great for a while, and then become a nightmare.

      That’s why he was so frustrated.

      Imagine a world where men were the main producer of sweetness… better than sugarcane, and so much more fun to harvest than bee honey! Since it was something that every man was subjected to since they hit puberty, he was resigned to it. Men were owned to produce, and to help women reproduce… it was semen – packed with little swimmers – but it was also delicious as the opaque honey they pack in jars.

      Lucky for him, his Mistress was willing to give him a little something for all his…’hard’ work.

  3. willcrimson
    September 17, 2011

    Loved it. There’s always something of your voice in all your stories, but there’s something uniquely yours in this.

    And of all your stories, this has to be one of my favorites. Writing stories with sex is easy, but its stuff like this that makes them special. Glad to be writing with you. :-)

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