Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
OTIS.
When I arrive home, I hear the vacuum cleaner buzzing away even before I get to the front door.
How did she find that, I wonder? I never told her where I keep it. Come to think of it, I haven’t used it for so long, I probably wouldn’t remember where I’d put it.
I open the front door and follow the sound. I find Clem in my small formal sitting room, the one Mom and Dad used to sit in, where Mom would embroider while Dad read the newspaper of an evening. It still holds good memories, but I haven’t honestly been in here for months.
Yeah, the dust would have piled up.
But it looks cozy now, the cushions on the sofa plumped up, the sconces lit and the silverware polished on the mantel.
She smiles brightly and turns off the vacuum with her foot.
“You okay?” I ask.
“Yes, really good.”
“Did you have fun with Tippy?”
Her face lights up even more. “So much fun. I love the markets, and I stocked up on ingredients we might need for the cake.”
“Pause the vacuuming and we’ll get baking then?”
Her face lights up. “Yes, please!”
I try not to gawk at her, looking so beautiful with her smooth hair hooked behind each ear and the little flush on her cheeks from her housework.
I remember how she flushed pink when she multi-orgasmed, and nearly cream myself just thinking about it.
Turning, I stride into the kitchen and she follows me.
There’s a bunch of ingredients on the counter, caster sugar, and freshly churned butter and eggs.
I check through my spice rack for vanilla essence. Grumble that I can’t find anything.
“The spices are now in alphabetical order, Otis,” she says gently. And now I feel stupid because I can work out complex coding, but I can’t find my spices when they’re arranged alphabetically.
“Just got used to them being all jumbled up,” I mumble, giving her a rueful smile which I hope shows I appreciate her help. “Thanks for organizing my sorry ass.”
“I enjoyed it.”
She hops onto the stool, and our heads move close together as we pore over recipes in Baking for Beasts. I can smell her delectable scent, see the rise and fall of her breasts out of the corner of my eye. I’m nearly going boss-eyed trying to focus on recipes; her nearness is driving me crazy.
“This is the one.” I point a green finger at the picture. “Fairy cake sponge, with cream and berries. It’s my mom’s favorite, so we can’t really go wrong.”
We work together like a true team. Clem chops up butter, adds sugar to the bowl and I beat it with my mom’s old wooden spoon.
“Don’t you use a whisk?” she asks.
“Don’t need to.” I beat even more vigorously, holding the bowl against my body.
I don’t miss that her eyes stray to the muscles in my forearm, and she nibbles on her lower lip, her cheeks flushing.
I realize she’s getting turned on as she watches my huge arms beat that cake batter into fluffy peaks.
And that’s a turn-on for me, knowing I have that effect on her.
I focus back on the cake making, not wanting my libido to get in the way of this fairy sponge turning out perfectly. Guess I’m trying to impress both Mom and Clem.
Clem passes me the eggs to add and then sifts the flour into the bowl while I keep beating. Finally, I pour it into the cake tin that Clem’s lined for me.
Yep, I think to myself, we make a good team. In the kitchen. And in the bedroom.
“Can I lick the spoon?” Those dimples appear either side of her mouth. How I want to lean over and kiss them.
But instead, I hand over the wooden spoon, which is covered in cake batter, and watch, transfixed, as she holds it to her lips and folds her tongue around it.
Ah gods, now my pants are tight as fuck.
Quickly I shove the cake in the oven and when I turn, I almost groan out loud as she licks from the handle to the tip of the spoon.
“I could lick something else if you like.” She gives me a coquettish smile.
I let out a strangled growl and, unable to stop myself, stride over to her.
Lifting her under her buttocks, I plonk her on the messy bench, not caring that the bag of sugar topples all over the benchtop.
She emits a little squeak, still holding the spoon—in fact, now she’s waving it at me provocatively.
“Are you planning to spank me with that thing?” I husk.
“Don’t tempt me.” Playfully, she taps the spoon on my nose, leaving a blob of vanilla-scented batter, and then she leans forward and licks it off.
But she doesn’t stop there.
She taps batter onto my jaw, then proceeds to lick it off. Next, she flicks cake mix on my neck, and like a kitten, licks that off too.
I grab the spoon from her.
She sticks her tongue out and grabs it back.
We wrestle over the spoon. I could easily remove it from her grasp, but finally I let her keep it. Instead, I dig my fingers into the nearby bowl, scoop out the last bit of cake mix and flick it at her.
Soon we’re both covered in the remains of the cake batter and laughing like a pair of younglings.
“I think I won,” she giggles.
“No, I did.”
“I know how to pick the winner.”
“How?”
“By seeing who can lick the most off the other.”
“Or kiss it off.” My head hovers lower, our lips almost grazing.
And then I kiss her, my tusks moving to either side of her cheeks as my lips descend on hers. My tongue glides into her mouth, and with a little moan, she drops the spoon on the floor and then her hands are around the back of my head, pulling me deeper into the kiss.
I slide my body between her legs and gods, the way she arches and raises her thighs to wrap them around my hips, locking on and pressing her crotch into me, just about blows my fuses.
We kiss. Hard and long, our tongues twisting and writhing together as we let out moans of pleasure, our hands roaming over each other’s bodies.
My cock is painfully hard already.
“I think we need a shower,” she murmurs. “Together.”
I answer by sweeping her off the bench, into my arms and once again, I’m carting my little human down the corridor, but this time to the shower.
In moments we’re feverishly pulling each other’s clothes off, and then I turn on the taps and lift her into the warm water.
The water rushes over us as we kiss, and my hard cock presses against her soft flesh.
I have no idea how I went without sex for two years, how I didn’t even consider it necessary. Because since meeting Clem, it feels like it’s all I want to be doing, and the only one I want to be doing it with is this perfect little green-eyed goddess.
“You make me feel… alive again…” I gasp against her lips.
“Oh yeah, I can feel one part of you that is very alive,” she giggles.
She works her hand between us, and I’m desperate to relieve my swollen cock. I jerk and a spring of precum spurts over her fingers.
She puts her hand to her lips and licks it off. “Yum. Better than cake,” she murmurs, and then we’re kissing again, and I want so badly to enter her, but my knot is just too big.
But she pulls back, her little face determined, and says, “I want you inside of me. I want to take your knot.”
“No Clem, I’m way too big for you.”
“I’ll be the decider of that.” She juts her little jaw, her eyes sparkling. “Have you got lube?”
I should resist, but I can’t.
“Yeah, fuck yeah, somewhere in the cabinet.”
“I’m going to get it.” She wriggles out of my embrace.
Before I can stop her, she’s hopped out of the shower, and I follow passing her a towel and we both dry off quickly, still kissing in between. She gropes for the door of the cabinet, and giggles, “find it quick, Otis.”
“Yes, Ma’am.” I grin then fumble around until I locate the purple bottle.
She purrs happily when I say, “Got it,” then she hops up onto the vanity.
I stare, wondering what the little minx is up to now.
“Take me from behind,” she pants. “Like this.” And twisting, she spreads her knees on the vanity, her palms planted on the glass mirror and her cute ass rising to meet me.
My jaw goes slack as I watch her wiggle her ass cheeks at me in invitation. I can see the thicket of damp dark hair now between her legs, the folds of her labia just in view, tempting me.
Her arousal smells like heaven.
I prowl forward and dip my hand between her legs, scoop her sweet juices, thumb her clit and slide my fingers along her ass crack. She moans and whines encouragement. Splaying her butt cheeks wide with one hand, I use my other to cover my cock in lube from the bottle. Tons of lube.
Slowly, slowly I ease my shaft between her butt cheeks until it meets her tight little cunt. It glistens, beckoning me.
Her reflected eyes meet mine in a challenge.
“Knot me,” she demands.
“You sure you want this?” I croak.
“So much.”
My cock is huge, weeping with pre-cum and dripping with lube.
I give in.
Grasping onto my knot, I ease my cock into her, savoring her little gasps. Her tits jiggle in the mirror as she moves her ass up to greet me, her panting breath clouding the glass as I slide my cock deeper into her.
She feels so tight, but so wet too. Carefully, I inch into her, adding more lube as I go.
She splays her legs wider on the bench, her palms on the glass as she watches me out of hungry eyes. “All of you Otis, I want all of you.”
Holy Fuck!
How can I refuse a request like that.
CLEM.
Otis is behind me, a huge green buffed monster, every muscle primed. It’s steamy in here, and I rub the steam off the mirror to better see him. His hands are kneading my buttocks, and the look on his face as he bites his lower lip is pure lust.
His eyes are gleaming, firey orbs.
His nostrils are flared wide, his lips swollen and his tusks jutting and sharp-tipped.
I watch his reflection as his pecs bunch, the movement of his perfect six-pack a symphony as he holds his cock in his hands and the muscles of his abdomen literally shake with the effort to hold himself back.
And oh my, that knot of his, I want it so badly.
Otis is literally salivating. For me.
I beg and whine for him to enter me.