#321) Chocoholic

I love dark chocolate. I rationalize my appetite for dark (not milk or white) chocolate by telling myself that it contains antioxidants. It’s good for you!
The above photo depicts how I look when I start making something with dark chocolate. (I love wearing my man’s shirt, knowing how sexy I look in it. I don’t button it up all the way, giving peeks of bare flesh underneath, falling off one shoulder. But that’s another post…)
You realize that the spatula I’m using would be a good pervertible. You order me off the countertop, you bend me over its edge, you turn that shirt tail up, exposing butt cheeks. You use the chocolate-covered spatula on my backside, whipping me into a lather. I don’t want you to stop.
“If I make more chocolate, will you whip me more, whip me all over…?”
The below photo depicts how I look if it were left up to me how much dark chocolate to make, how much spatula-whipping I desire.
“Wanna lick?” I smile.
You nod. Where do you start? I’m covered head to toe, where do you apply your tongue first?

3 responses to “#321) Chocoholic”

  1. “(I love wearing my man’s shirt, knowing how sexy I look in it. I don’t button it up all the way, giving peeks of bare flesh underneath, falling off one shoulder. But that’s another post…)”

    Oh, God, YES!

    Some time back you made a comment about the expense of buying, cleaning, maintaining your sexiest under-things. I was going to respond but never got around to it. Here it is.

    “Wear my shirt!” – Arsenio Hall on his nightly TV show years ago on what turns him (and a lot of us to include me) on.

    He went on to say don’t spend your money on all that other “stuff” when something as simple, cheap, and available is already there. And it works better.

    (A while back I saw an ad for this thin belt-like thing that would begin at the neck, go down and around the boobs, across the belly between the legs and around the bottom. No material at all covering the fun parts; just a leather-like band.
    It did look sexy. And the user comments? “Love it! But it took me 15-minutes just to get it on.”
    And I’m looking at it and wondering – “How the hell AM I going to get something like that OFF!!”)

    Arsenio said that and I’m all “YEAH! THAT’S RIGHT!”

    In my 30’s and my then GF and I dress to the nines and go to a fancy black-tie event.
    Get home around 2:30 in the morning, tired, and go to bed.
    I get up around 9:30, come downstairs, put of the coffee and read the paper.
    She comes down an hour later, barefoot, still sleep-groggy and mumbling, “Coffee!!”

    And the only things she is wearing are her skimpy panties – and my dress shirt from the night before!
    And I noticed.

    She gets her coffee, plunks herself down right up against me and starts talking abut the night before. Blah-blah-blah… Hey I ‘m reading the paper!

    And then I notice those long slender legs, that my shirt had ridden up as she crossed and re-crossed,lifted on occasion, showing even more leg (NB; I’m a ‘leg’ man.) Then how poorly she buttoned up my shirt with maybe only one or two of the bottom buttons buttoned, and leaving one too many of the top buttons unbuttoned. And as she yammers on and on, a glimpse of breast (she had what you once called “Cupcake tits,” that I LOVE), then spy a nipple and I can no longer read. I reach inside and, with just my finger tip, ever so softly run circles around her nipple.

    “What are you doing?”
    “Nippling,”
    “Nippling???”
    “Trying to get you all perky.”
    “Did I say you could do that?” (Without brushing my hand away, I add.)
    “You’re wearing my shirt. Anything in it is mine.”

    She wasn’t so sure of that, but by now the legs, the boobs, the nipples, the warmth of her leaning up against me, the erection I was building…”You look so HAWT.”

    She goes off on that: Blah-blah-blah; I haven’t showered, haven’t combed my hair, not wearing make-up, yadda-yadda…

    “I don’t care. You look hot. I’m going to fuck you.” And stand and start taking off my shorts before moving her into a better position.

    She says I’m crazy, and no, I wasn’t.
    “I’m sorry. You look so hot I have to fuck you. Now!”

    She resisted a little. But with her panties off, her legs spread, and my head buried and tongue-lashing her coochie, “No” became “Ummmm,” and soon her hands were on my head guiding me the way she wanted. Then the magic words, “Go in. Go in. Now. Go in.”

    I’m now sporting a porn-star-worthy meat-missile and enter. As she was so wet, quickly and all the way. As far in as I could push it.

    We had fun. Because of that shirt!

    And it’s free and right there! And all you need is that shirt. You can even skip the panties!

    Later I thought about accessories. Even though they are not necessary, there are some things that, with that shirt, would add to the moment:
    1) Strappy, high-heel ‘fuck me’ shoes.
    2) Pearls. Don’t know why, but I think it would work.
    3) Glasses. For the “naughty librarian” look.
    And that’s it.

    Oh, wait! There is one more accessory and it is also free and available!
    4) An attitude.

    With attitude you can be a slutty sub, there only or his pleasure.
    Or, dominant for your pleasure.
    That shirt, those heels, glasses – maybe carrying a strap – with an attitude? Wow!

    Sorry this is so long.

    A.J.

    Liked by 1 person

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