"It feels strange not being able to see," she said breathlessly.
"You don't need to see. I'll take care of you, love."
He made short work of the remaining buttons. Her gown pooled at her feet, followed shortly by her petticoats and other hindrances. He pulled the final barrier, her chemise, over her head, careful not to disturb the blindfold. His breath stuttered at the sight of her.
"By God, you are perfection," he said hoarsely. He watched in fascination as a flush travelled across her nubile form. When her hands moved automatically to cover herself, he stopped them, returning them to her sides. "No hiding, sweet. Let me see all of you."
Her lips parted, yet she acquiesced.
Circling her, he took in her loveliness with a rapacious gaze. She was a flower of a goddess, with her hair a bloom of gold and the rest of her graceful as a stem. His mouth pooled at the high, firm thrust of her breasts and their saucy, budded tips. She was slim of waist and hip, the sleek line of her legs accentuated by white, striped silk stockings. Then and there he decided to leave the stockings on—he had to swallow, lust gripping his balls at the sight of the sky blue garters framing her sunny nest of curls.
Without a doubt, she had the sweetest, most delectable pussy he'd ever seen.
"Are you done... looking yet?" she said, biting her lip.
He'd never be done. Not in a million years. "You steal my breath, buttercup."
Standing behind her, he grasped her supple waist and pulled her back against him. Shuddered at the contact with the smooth firmness of her ass. He cupped her breasts, thumbing the stiff peaks as she sighed and wriggled against him. The friction made his blood burn, his erect prick threatening to burst through the thin layer of wool.
"You have the most gorgeous tits," he growled against her ear.
"Um, thank you?"
He grinned at her impish response. Only Percy could amuse and arouse him at once. His grin turned into a chuckle when in the midst of the love play her stomach gave an unladylike growl.
"Pardon," she said in an abashed voice. "I haven't eaten much today."
Still smiling, he went to fill a plate and led her to the sofa. He pulled her onto his lap, and choosing a ripe strawberry, held it to her lips. "Take a bite."
Red juice dribbled down her chin as she did so. He leaned over and licked up the sweet trail. Sighing, she said, "More please?"
He selected a chicken leg, pulling off bite-sized chunks. She ate it greedily, and when she was done, he murmured to her, "Now be a good girl and lick my fingers clean."
Lust bolted through him as she obeyed. Her small tongue lapped at him, sucking one long digit between her pink lips. An image flashed of her taking his cock this way, of pushing his shaft all the way into her sweet mouth... Just as quickly, he shook the notion away. That was a paid pleasure, and he was done with those. Breathing heavily, he pulled his fingers out. He had to stay in control, or this game would not last much longer.
"Very good," he said. "And now for dessert."
Beneath the strip of linen, her lips curved. "I love dessert—What are you doing?"
He'd eased from under her, pressing her into a reclining position on the sofa. "I'm preparing it." He knelt on the floor next to her and reached for the dish of trifle. A house specialty, Cook's version was a closely guarded recipe of ratafia cakes, custard, and whipped cream.
When he spooned a dollop onto Percy's navel, she yelped. "What on earth—"
He licked the trifle off her smooth skin, savoring the creamy sweetness. "As I said, I'm having my dessert. You. No, hush,"—when she opened her mouth to protest, he inserted a spoonful of trifle—"and let a man enjoy his sweets in peace."
He decorated her breasts next, piling on the confection and drawing the back of the spoon against the taut peaks. She arched her back, gasping, "That is so wicked. Oh, do it again..."
Smiling, he bent to sample his handiwork. He tongued the cream off her nipples, then suckled them deep into his mouth. Her fingers slid against his scalp, holding him to her sweet mounds. He cleaned off every inch of her bosom until she was quaking, sighing his name. And then he picked up the spoon and deposited a dollop where he wanted it most.
"Oh no, you can't possibly—" she squeaked. Her head fell back against the arm of the sofa as he proceeded to do exactly that.
The flavor was indescribable. Whipped cream and Percy, his own personal confection.
"I love the way you taste," he growled.
Spreading her thighs, he feasted on her luscious cunny, his senses exploding with the sweetness of her. His tongue traced her slit upward and found the shy hooded bud. When he lashed her pearl with wet flicks, she began to writhe against the cushions. The sight of her passion was too much. With one hand, he unfastened his trousers to free his painfully swollen shaft.
Let off some steam first. There's plenty of time tonight… when you're finally inside this beautiful quim, you have to last…
