Chapter 3
Steve Burbage frowned worriedly as he tasted the spaghetti sauce. "Damn ... it needs something!" he muttered to himself. Turning, he rummaged impatiently through the spice cupboard, until he found the nutmeg. He carelessly shook a considerable amount into the bubbling sauce, stirred for a moment, and then took another taste.
"Aaahhhh," he sighed with obvious pleasure. "Right on the button."
Like many men, Steve was into creative cooking and on the days he got home from work earlier than Ellen he enjoyed making dinner.
Already a fresh salad was crisping in the refrigerator and the pasta was laid out beside a huge pot of nearly boiling water, waiting only for Ellen to come home. "Christ, she's late! I wonder what the hell's holding her up?" Steve asked himself. He'd already opened the wine to let the sharp edge wear off and was having a difficult time keeping himself from sampling it. Now that both he and Ellen were working, there was enough money for the luxuries they had scrimped on while he was finishing school. The wine was a very good Chianti Classico Riserva. Nothing's too good for the little woman, he thought cheerfully eyeing the bottle, but then winced inwardly as he remembered what he'd been doing earlier in the day.
"You're a schmuck, Burbage," he said softly to himself, hoping that Ellen never found out what he was really like. His mind flashed back to the panting moaning tangle of naked limbs he'd been a part of just a few hours ago. Christ, the way Ellen puts out, how can I have anything left for other women? he asked himself darkly.
It had been too perfect a set-up. The buyer for the big account he'd been sent out to land, turned out to be an unbelievably gorgeous broad in her early thirties. A little hard around the edges, true, but a gorgeous hunk of tail, nevertheless. They flashed on one another right away, and the natural next step seemed to be lunch together to talk over the contract. Steve's expense account was generous enough to buy a lot of drinks, which made them extra sensitive to noise and they both jumped at the idea of going up to the woman's apartment where they could talk in peace.
It was a nice apartment, obviously belonging to a single woman who knew what she wanted out of life. It was lush and padded- like a woman's body Steve found himself thinking-and the main attraction was the mirror-lined bedroom, with its huge circular bed, which Angela (they were on first name terms now) made sure he got a glimpse of before she settled him down on the couch in the living room.
"I don't see much point in my going back to the office today," Angela said throatily. "Might as well get out of this tight outfit and into something more . . . comfortable."
Oh Christ, just like a nineteen-thirties movie, Steve exulted. I wonder who writes her lines? Nevertheless, he made no objection as Angela swayed slowly off to the bedroom. He didn't bother to bring to her attention the fact that she had forgotten to shut the bedroom door after her and he could see her every movement in the glittering confusion of mirrors that lined the walls.
She was wearing what, on anyone else, would have been a rather severe woman's suit, with a stiff wool jacket and medium length skirt. But Angela's undeniably present breasts and hips bulged the material out in strategic places that would have made a straight jacket look good. So Steve settled down on the couch, sipping the drink Angela had thoughtfully made for him, watching unobtrusively as she undressed because he sensed it was part of a game to her-pretending she didn't know she was being spied on.
The suit jacket went first, no great excitement-merely uncovering her cream-colored blouse underneath. But just the same, it became a little clearer just how large Angela's breasts really were, and Steve found himself looking forward to their final unveiling.
When the wool skirt came off, Steve found to his disappointment, that there was an almost as long slip underneath it. But Angela was no fool. To keep the tension building, she began to slowly unbutton her blouse, acting as if she were completely unaware there was a man within a hundred miles. Steve watched with mounting interest as the silky cream-colored material slowly gaped open, showing flashes of smooth, well-tanned skin above and below the stark white lines of her brassiere. When most of the drama had been extracted from the unbuttoning, Angela was smart enough not to overplay herself, and the blouse very soon was very smoothly and quickly peeled off.
It was about then that what had been a somewhat amusing show for Steve began to make him genuinely excited. He had seen enough naked women to take away a great deal of the novelty, and he was impatient for Angela to get rid of the rest of her clothes so they could get down to the nitty-gritty fucking. He naturally expected her to take off her slip next, but to his surprise, Angela instead walked over to the closet, still wearing her slip and bra, and carefully hung up her blouse. Her naturalness and lack of haste began to strengthen the illusion in Steve's mind that he actually was spying on an undressing woman who didn't know he was there, and the sense that he was an unseen voyeur began to kindle a strange excitement in his loins.
Forgetting his earlier amusement, Steve found himself staring hungrily at the partially undressed woman in the other room, only half realizing he was only watching a reflection of her in the mirrors. He became acutely aware of the matching white of her bra and slip, and of the small pink bow that decorated the top of the bra right between her large swelling breasts. A new kind of impatience began to steal over the watching salesman as Angela hung up her suit, and then took a purple silk robe out of the closet. For a moment he was afraid she was going to put it on over her bra and slip, but he breathed a sigh of relief when she laid it out on the bed. Only then did she begin to fumble with the waistband of her slip, and in a moment it slithered down her legs like water, to lie in a heap around her feet. When she kicked it free and bent down to pick it up, Steve became acutely aware that Angela was still wearing her high-heeled shoes. Her reflection was turned partly away from him in the mirror, and as she bent, his eyes traveled from her shoes up the graceful length of her stocking-clad legs to where her lace-edged panties gleamed virginal white over her softly swelling ass-cheeks. Since she was bending over, Steve received the full impression of Angela's excitingly full hips and buttocks. God, if I do anything, I'm gonna fuck her from behind! he thought excitedly to himself.
When she had straightened up and draped the slip over a chair, Angela began to work a little more rapidly. Steve's breath sucked in in anticipation as he watched her reach behind her back to unfasten her bra. That was the image of her he still had in his mind-standing straight, heavy-breasted and full-hipped, her long legs encased in sheer nylon, tapering down to her high-heeled shoes, her stockings held up by the long elastic straps of her garter belt, which projected from underneath her silky bikini panties like groping fingers. Her back was arched, thrusting out her large breasts while the elastic bra material stretched, then lost its shape and came loose in her hands. The bra peeled from her breasts like a second skin, and she tossed it away almost contemptuously, freeing the big twin orbs beneath.
God, what tits! Steve thought in awe as he stared at the now half naked Angela. What the hell's she need a bra for? They stand up all by themselves! True enough, though they bounced and swayed a little as she moved, Angela's mammoth breasts held their shape beautifully, swooping out from her slender rib cage in a graceful curve. Staring hungrily at this beautiful woman's large, erect nipples, Steve realized that if she did try to go without a bra at work, every man who saw her would go out of his mind. He was fascinated by the way the hard peaks on the tips of her lush twin mounds would definitely push out the front of her blouse.
Steve thought he'd never be able to take his bulging eyes off Angela's nakedly displayed breasts . . . until she hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her panties and began to slide the flimsy garment down her shapely thighs. He saw a flash of dark pussy fur but then she was leaning forward to work the panties down over her ankles, and he could see very little until a moment later when she straightened back up. Steve forgot to breathe for a few seconds as he stared at the nearly naked woman so blithely undressing just a few yards away, as if he weren't even there. She stood unconcernedly rubbing the bra marks from her breasts, and Steve stared hungrily at the way the creamy flesh changed shape under her massaging fingers. Her legs were slightly parted, looking very long and slender, set off by her sheer nylon stockings and high heels. The stockings and her lace-edged garter belt made an obscene frame for her uncovered cuntal hair, a perfect triangle of downy brown punctuating the rounded swell where her hips, thighs, and belly joined.
Take it off . ... take it off! Steve screamed silently to himself as Angela sat down on the bed. Her thighs parted a little as she bent to take off her stockings, and he caught a glimpse of bright pink inner pussy flesh before her arms got in the way. Angela unfastened the garter belt snaps and then slowly, tantalizingly rolled down the sheer nylon fabric, baring her golden tanned legs inch by inch. At the last moment she kicked off the high-heeled shoes, and then she was on her feet tugging at the garter-belt, which, now that it was her last piece of clothing, looked cold and elastic against her warm naked flesh. It wasn't until she had tossed it after the bra and stood completely naked that Steve realized that Angela was tanned all over. There were no bathing-suit marks. Her ass was a smooth golden brown, a silky flawless curve that begged to be touched. Steve was on his feet and on the way to the bedroom even as Angela was bending down to pick up her robe from the bed.
"You're not gonna be needing that," Steve growled hoarsely, fumbling with his belt. He felt like a voyeur, bursting into the bedroom to ravish the unsuspecting woman on whom he'd been spying. And he saw from the quick flash of fear in Angela's eyes how she was reacting to his intrusion. She'd set the mood perfectly.
"You should have been an actress," Steve mumbled thickly as he quickly closed in on his naked prey.
Steve stood in the kitchen, absent-mindedly stirring the spaghetti sauce, his cock hard and throbbing in his pants, reliving the slick hot feel of Angela's voracious vagina. She almost ate me alive, he chuckled to himself, remembering the totally abandoned way that beautiful wanton woman had given herself to him. Her breast had been even better close up, firm and hot to the touch, the nipples digging up into his palm. And the way she kissed.. ..
Steve jumped guiltily as he heard Ellen's car pull up into the driveway. A hell of a fine thing to be thinking about when your hard working, faithful wife comes home from work! he thought bitterly, hating himself. What the fuck's wrong with me? Why can't I stay away from other women? But he knew it was hopeless. New conquests were the very breath of life to him. He turned quickly toward the stove, trying to hide his memory-induced erection as he heard Ellen's hand on the front door latch.
"Mmmmm, smells wonderful!" Ellen said as she entered the spaghetti-steamy kitchen. "And how's my man?"
Ellen and Steve came together like magnets, Steve managing to conceal his erection until Ellen felt it pressing into her belly. "Hey, what's this?" she inquired, looking eagerly down.
"It heard you coming," Steve said smoothly, and then, "Hey . . . keep your hands off it! First things first. You want dinner to be ruined?"
Regretfully Ellen pulled her hands away from the hard bulge in her husband's pants, her loins simmering hotly. Both she and Steve had temporarily forgotten about their guilt now that they were actually in one another's presence. Each one totally filled the other's horizons and would continue to do so until they were apart again.
Dinner was a rousing success, with the wine bringing them both to a happy glow.
"Now?" Ellen asked hopefully as she poured the last of the ruby liquid down her throat.
"The dishes first," Steve ordered. She washed and he dried. When the last one had been put away, Ellen once again turned hopefully toward her husband.
"Now," he said forcefully, tossing the dish-towel onto the countertop as he advanced on his wide-eyed wife. Ellen thought she was going to melt as he came toward her. God, I love the way he does this, she thought excitedly. It had been her who had to lead the way with shy Dr. Johnson, which was exciting enough in its own way, but now she craved to be mastered by a man, to be fucked, forcefully, without a chance to say no.
"Into the bedroom, woman," Steve ordered, propelling Ellen along before him. He was pushing hard, genuinely hard, but his roughness was building a perverse desire in Ellen's ever-ready body. And as for Steve-he'd had all the games-playing he could handle today, with Angela. He silently cursed himself for the ease with which he had let himself be seduced away from his duty to his wife, and a lingering guilt was part of the reason for his roughness. He loved his wife, he wanted to make love to her but felt slightly unworthy.
"Okay, out of those clothes," he growled, beginning to strip off his own. Ellen played no Angela games, but instead was totally naked in a matter of seconds, standing panting before him, her hot pussy juices already soaking through her red cuntal hair. Steve couldn't help comparing Ellen with his memory of Angela, and while Angela was classically more beautiful, there was a sexy earthiness about his wife that made the other woman seem as lifeless as a department store dummy. Staring at his wife's so obviously ready body, Steve felt his swelling cock lurch anew in his pants, and he had trouble working his shorts down over the swollen shaft.
"Oh, Steve, hurry . . . please hurry!" Ellen begged. "I don't know how I was able to wait through dinner!"
She let Steve push her back onto the bed, with her legs trailing over the edge. But when she moved to lie lengthwise on the big king-size mattress, he stopped her. "Uh-uh ... I haven't had my desert yet," he said. Ellen wasn't quite sure what he meant, until he knelt between her widespread thighs and began to lower his head toward her nakedly displayed cunt.
"You're . . . you're going to eat me?" she asked excitedly.
"Like a bowl of ice cream," he answered.
"Ooooohhhh, Steve," she breathed happily, readying herself for his assault on her hypersensitive genitals. Then a sudden thought struck the eagerly waiting young woman.
My God! she thought in horror. What if he can taste Dr. Johnson's cum down there?
There had been no chance to wash since coming home, and Ellen knew that a good percentage of the thick liquid that bubbled obscenely from her thoroughly aroused cunt was the result of her earlier coupling with the young intern. But it was too late to back out now. Already Steve's hands had slid hotly up the insides of her shaking, tender thighs, and she doubted that she'd have the strength to stop him anyway. Her whole body had become a quivering morass of burning need as she anticipated the marvelous feel of having her cunt sucked by her husband's talented mouth.
Totally unaware of his wife's internal struggle, Steve stared in fascination at the juicy snatch only inches away from his sweating face. Ellen's thick russet pubic hair partially masked his wife's waiting cunt, but under the silky strands he could see the softly swelling pussy lips. Forcing her legs open wider with his shoulders, the kneeling young husband was rewarded by a glimpse of bright pink inner pussy flesh. Reaching forward excitedly, he placed his thumbs on each full fleshy cunt lip and moving his hands slowly, carefully pried open the spongy, hair-covered mounds, completely revealing the hot slippery trench beneath.
The sweetest cunt in the world, he thought exultantly as he stared at the glistening pink treasures his hands had unearthed. High up in his wife's pussy slit, her tiny clitoris trembled and throbbed, as if fearing the ordeal that awaited it. You just wait, you little bastard! he thought gloatingly. I'm going to suck you all the way down my throat! But for the moment his attention was locked on his wife's hotly bubbling vaginal opening, and after one last hungry glance, he leaned forward and buried his tongue far up inside Ellen's hot, wet pit.
"Uuuunngggg," she moaned deliriously as she felt her wildly needing cunt invaded by her husband's knowing tongue. Her legs thrust out straight, jerking her heels up off the floor, and her back arched sharply as her body became filled with darting bolts of sexual ecstasy. "Oooohhhh. . . . Ooooohhhh, baby," she crooned as again and again Steve thrust his extended tongue up into her convulsing depths.
Below, Steve reveled in the hot, spicy taste of his wife's gushing cunt, little realizing that he was also sucking up a little of the savor of Dr. Ted Johnson. As usual, he didn't have much attention to spare for extraneous details, because Ellen was beginning to buck and jerk wildly, as she always did when he ate her snatch. Afraid that her wild convulsions would sprain his neck if he didn't get a better grip on her, Steve circled his arms around the outside of his wife's thighs and around to her ass, where he gripped her spasming buttocks firmly, and pulled her twitching loins tighter up against his slavering mouth. He chuckled to himself as he felt his wife's desperately eager vagina clamp rhythmically around his darting tongue.
Some hot bitch! he thought happily as he prepared to switch targets. Slowly, tantalizingly, he withdrew his hot wet tongue from his moaning wife's madly convulsing vaginal passage, delighted by the way her straining hips attempted to follow his retreating face.
"Oh please! Don't stop! Eat me some more!" Ellen begged, completely out of her mind with desire. Her loins kept bucking up wildly, searching out something to stroke hot delight into them once again.
"Anything you want, sweetheart," Steve said, smiling, his face slippery with his wife's cuntal juices. Opening her legs wider with his powerful arms, the kneeling man once again lowered his face, but this time his long thick tongue began to lap rhythmically up the full length of Ellen's wide open pussy slit. He made each stroke long and slow, starting way down by the tight little brown pucker of her asshole, climbing higher until his tongue was dragging over the entrance to the vagina he had so recently deserted. Then higher, up the hot glistening trench, until his tongue was finally lapping over Ellen's sensitive little clitoris.
Her whole body jerked at the beginning of each maddeningly slow stroke, and stayed quivering and taut until it finally convulsed in agonizingly unbearable pleasure when her tiny love-button was cruelly flicked at the end. A steady stream of meaningless sounds bubbled from Ellen's passion swollen lips, and her torso writhed and twisted on the bed. When she could stand it no longer, she reached down with both hands, tangling her fingers in Steve's thick curly hair, trying to guide his ravening mouth into her most secret and sensitive places. For a few seconds she rallied enough self-control to raise her upper torso and stare hungrily at the big dark head wedged so obscenely between her wide-spread thighs. Then her own head fell back heavily on the mattress and she was once again lost to the wild sensations racing out of control through her pleasure-wracked loins.
Okay, now's the time for the main attack, Steve told himself, carefully assessing the degree of his wife's arousal. He began to limit his ardent licking to the area around Ellen's quiveringly erect clitoris, surrounding the little nubbin with hot caresses. The closer he got to the clitoris itself, the wilder Ellen's struggles became, until as last he stabbed his stiffened tongue straight down against the sensitive little knob of flesh.
"Aaaaahhhhgggg!" Ellen shrieked, her body spasming as if her genitals had been plugged into a wall socket. But before she could move again, Steve had circled her shuddering clitoris with his lips, and sucking powerfully, drew the hard little button deep into his mouth.
It was a wild ride from then on. Several times Steve believed he was about to be bucked loose as Ellen convulsed wildly under his avid sucking. But he held fast, gradually becoming aware that his wife must be having a clitoral orgasm to end all clitoral orgasms. Lower down, he could feel her spasming vagina working convulsively against his juice-covered chin, and he wished he had a hand free to pay attention to his own thoroughly aroused cock, which throbbed hungrily below, aroused by the nearness of hot, climaxing pussy. Finally, when Steve was sure that he was about to suffocate in wet, gushing pussy flesh, Ellen's monster orgasm began to fade away, but she was still an armful. It was another full minute before Steve felt justified in pulling his tiring mouth away from his wife's still gently twitching cunt.
"How did you like my desert?" he asked his gasping wife.
"Fine. . . . Now where's mine?" she managed to choke out. Steve's eyes narrowed, and straightening up, he walked closer to his wife's saliva-soaked loins on his knees, until his stiff swollen cock was poised only inches from the vagina he'd so recently invaded with his tongue.
"Coming up, baby, coming up," he growled. "A cunt full of hot cum!"
"No .. . no .. . !" Ellen said, much to Steve's surprise, scrambling up to a sitting position on the disarrayed bedspread. "Now it's my turn to do something for you!"
Knowing that his wife never disappointed him, Steve let her coax him up onto the bed. She positioned him on his back so that his erect cock towered up over his loins like a fleshy spear. "Mmmmmmm, I like that," she crooned, lovingly running her hands up and down the meaty shaft. And now it was Steve's turn to writhe in ecstasy.
"What you gonna do, baby, suck me off?" he asked excitedly.
"Uh-uh, I did that this morning," she answered smugly. "I'm going to fuck the hell out of us both!"
Giving her husband's throbbing cock a last loving kiss, Ellen knelt above him, her legs straddling his loins. She positioned herself until her drippingly ready pussy-hole was poised right above Steve's upthrusting probe, and then lowered her body slowly, until her wet slippery cunt lips were forced open by the tip of her husband's huge cock.
"Aaahhhh, baby," Steve groaned as he felt the first hot moist touch of his wife's juicy snatch. Staring down toward his loins, he watched eagerly as his cock-tip flattened a little under Ellen's downward pressure. Her tight young vaginal muscles were resisting his huge probe, but as she pressed harder, they gave way and opened eagerly, letting the meaty head slip up inside. A look of delirious joy came over the young wife's face as she settled lower, slowly impaling herself on the big shaft thrusting up from below.
"Mmmnnn ... so good ... I can feel it all the way up to my tonsils," Ellen moaned ecstatically. As soon as her voracious pussy had swallowed the entire length of her husband's throbbing, hard cock, she slowly raised her body again, slipping her tight cuntal channel up Steve's swelling rod. It glistened with her warm wet inner juices.
"Atta way, doll," Steve said, hardly able to form the words. He looked up blearily as Ellen continued to slide her cunt up and down his pleasurably aching cock. How did I ever get so lucky? he asked himself. What if we'd never met?
But it could have been worse than that, he reflected. What if he'd met Ellen and failed to recognize her for the perfect mate she'd make him. She's no great looker, he thought, at least not with her clothes on. But Steve congratulated himself that his practiced eye had spotted the voluptuary under Ellen's rather normal exterior. In her clothes, and on the street, she looked like thousands of other girls, but in bed, nude, she was another class of being. Looking up at his wife as she humped slowly over his quivering loins, Steve drank in her exciting nakedness eagerly. She was a bit broad in the hips to look just right in a dress, but their lush roundness as they flexed sensuously over his lower body could hardly be improved on. And while her breasts weren't as large as Angela's they were perfectly shaped, just the right size to fit in his cupped hand, with hard, eager little nipples. But he loved her belly the most. While she dutifully slaved over his super-heated loins, he reached up and ran one hand appreciatively over the soft swell of his wife's lower torso. Soft . . . like silk! he marveled as he watched his fingers sink in a little. She's gotta be the best fuck in the world!
As if she'd read his mind, Ellen began to flex her inner vaginal muscles while still sliding up and down her husband's passion-swollen penis. She squeezed as she pulled up, forcing all the feeling to the tip of Steve's shuddering cock, then opened up wide to swallow the big organ once again.
"You keep that up and I'll blow my nuts right now," Steve warned her.
"Don't you like it?" Ellen asked, her voice quivering with sexual delight.
"Hell yes, but I don't know if I can hold back."
"Try," she begged. "God, if I keep this up, I'll come again too! Help me a little."
Sensing the urgency in his wife's voice, Steve slid his hand down her belly, and dipping his thumb deep down into her dripping slit, right to where his own cock was sliding remorselessly in and out of her cunt, deliberately coating it with her slippery inner fluids. Then he moved higher, flicking his glistening thumb over Ellen's prominently swollen clitoris.
"Ah! Ohhh ... yes ... yes! Do it like that!" she moaned above him, her belly sucking in from the shock of his lewd touch. Timing the movements of his thumb to Ellen's steady hip action up and down over his slippery loins, Steve began to stroke additional delight into his wife's slowly writhing body. He watched in delight as her face softened, becoming increasingly radiant. Her sea-green eyes glittered hotly behind half-closed lids, and her pink little tongue darted out from time to time to lick at suddenly dry lips. Imperceptibly the motion of her plunging hips speeded up until she was pounding her cunt madly up and down on her husband's impaling male member.
"Oh . . . oh . . . oh . . ." she chanted, in time to her frenzied lunges. The room was filled with the sounds of harsh breathing and the wet smack of over-heated loins.
"Christ. . . . Hurry up, baby," Steve pleaded as he felt the first hot signals of his approaching orgasm stabbing through his balls. To help her along faster, he began to vibrate his thumb across the tip of her massively swollen clitoris until everything was a blur. Just as the boiling sperm began its mad race up from the base of his cock, he felt her orgasm starting.
Ellen froze for a moment, her eyes wide with the shock of a release too powerful to control. "I . . . I'm CUMMMIIINNNGGG!" she finally shrieked, her voice starting out as a whisper and finally rising to the point where it hurt Steve's ears. He watched her stomach muscles suck in powerfully as her inner spasms began, and suddenly she rose up high, her cunt almost pulling free of Steve's upthrusting penis. She hung there a moment, as if afraid to move, and then slammed down with all her strength, ramming Steve's spouting, jerking cock as far up into her inner depths as it would go. Again and again she slammed down against the spurting rock-hard shaft, as if she were trying to pierce an invisible barrier with its spongy tip.
Still in the grip of his own orgasm, Steve was nevertheless able to appreciate the wild beauty of his madly fucking wife as she twisted and writhed in the throes of her orgasm. God . . . the first time she came was only a warm-up! he thought in awe, little realizing how much sex his wife had had during the day. Then, the full brunt of his own orgasm took control of his mind and body and he was no longer thinking. For the next few moments, both he and Ellen were two panting, moaning, writhing masses of primordial protoplasm, lost in the age-old reactions of all bi-sexual life. Their life juices welled up from their bodies, mixed in the hot quivering cavity of Ellen's womb, and then came gushing back out the rhythmically spasming opening of her vagina to smear over the thighs and bellies of both of them. Steve's hands were locked tightly around his wife's bucking hips, holding her cunt tightly down against his loins, riding with her, so that he could fill her with his gushing male seed. She jerked above him, her face wild, her long red hair flailing around her shoulders, the muscles in her torso writhing like snakes.
Steve was finished first, with his cock giving only an occasional final shudder, but Ellen ran on above him, her violent motions slowing bit by bit, until she was barely moving above his rapidly softening penis.
"Peace, baby, peace!" he pleaded, gasping for breath. "You're gonna suck my guts right out the end of my cock!" While Ellen's outer movements had almost stopped, her ever-hungry cunt was still nibbling eagerly at her husband's tightly trapped rod.
"Mmmmmm," she sighed, a dreamy look on her face. "Just trying to make sure I get every last drop." Leaning forward, she gave her husband a lingering, warm, wet kiss on the mouth. "Thanks, big daddy," she murmured, straightening up once again. "Thanks for my desert."