Fated For College Ch 06

Celine stood outside the apartment door, her bag slung over one shoulder and her thumb hovering above the handle. She reread the text Lia had sent just a few hours earlier:

"Mistress, don't make any plans tonight. Come home hungry. I have something special prepared just for you."

A grin crept across Celine's lips. Mid term season was nearly over--one more day, one more exam. Her body ached with stress, but her mind buzzed with anticipation. Lia had never sent a message like that before, and the formality of "Mistress" made Celine's pulse skip.

She pushed open the door--and froze.

Lia was kneeling in the entryway, hands gracefully resting on her thighs, her back straight, and her head bowed. She was wearing the most scandalous and adorable maid outfit Celine had ever seen: black mesh and lace, cut extremely short, with her soft breasts barely contained in the frilly cups and a tiny apron doing nothing to hide her thighs and the lack of underwear on her hips.

Celine blinked.

"Welcome home, Mistress," Lia said, lifting her eyes with a soft smile. "May I take your jacket?"

Celine wordlessly handed over her jacket and bag, still caught somewhere between stunned and spellbound. Lia knelt to remove her shoes, placing each one carefully by the door with the reverence of a religious ritual.

"Dinner is ready. Please sit," Lia said, guiding Celine gently to the table.

The table had been set with care--candles, cloth napkins, Lia's prettiest mismatched plates and cups. The scent of grilled vegetables, cooked rice, and marinated chicken filled the air. Celine sat down, still speechless, and watched as Lia moved through the kitchen with grace.

She didn't sit beside her. She didn't eat. She simply stood behind her chair, pouring water, refilling wine, and anticipating needs before they arose.

"Shouldn't you sit and eat with me?" Celine teased gently.

Lia shook her head, face glowing.

"A proper maid doesn't eat with her mistress," she said with soft certainty.

Celine's heart flipped in her chest.

She didn't know whether to laugh or cry in joy. Lia's commitment tonight was complete dedicated, loving, and just a little adorable. And Celine loved her for every second of it.

The food was incredible--flavorful, perfectly cooked, and plated with an artistic eye that surprised even Celine. She hadn't seen Lia didn't cook often, but she had clearly gone all out.

"Pet, this is amazing," Celine said, sipping her wine. "You've outdone yourself."

Lia beamed, cheeks flushed.

"Thank you, Mistress. I hope dessert will be to your liking as well..."

Celine raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

"Close your eyes. Please," Lia said softly.

Celine obeyed, smiling as she heard the clinking of plates being cleared, the low hum of the refrigerator opening. Her fingers drummed lightly on the table in anticipation.

"Okay. Open."

Celine opened her eyes.

And her jaw dropped.

Lia was on the dining table--naked.

A large scoop of ice cream sat atop each of her breasts, slowly melting and dripping down her flushed skin. Chocolate sauce and sprinkles decorated her stomach in delicate lines, some of it already trailing down her hips. And nestled between her legs was a popsicle, its bright red tip sticking out from her glistening, freshly-shaved pussy.

Lia was trembling. Her face was beet crimson. But her eyes met Celine's with unwavering submission.

"Please enjoy your dessert, Mistress. All of me."

Celine's mouth was dry. Her heart raced with so much desire--and a swelling, breathtaking affection.

Lia had remembered everything. Her food play fantasy, her want of submissiveness, the symbolism of complete surrender. She had turned herself into a personal gift just for Celine.

Celine stood slowly, walking to the table, and dragged her chair beside Lia's prone, blushing form. She picked up a spoon with exaggerated grace and dipped it into one of the melting scoops on Lia's breast, spreading the ice cream around.

As the ice cream touched her body, Lia gasped, her chest arching.

"So sensitive already," Celine teased, swirling the spoon down over Lia's stomach, letting the ice cream trail through the chocolate and flakes. "You're going to make a mess of my table, pet."

Lia whimpered, biting her lip as the mixture dripped into the hollow of her navel.

Celine took her sweet time with dessert.

She licked a streak from Lia's ribs. Sucked up a line of chocolate. Dipped her tongue into the ice cream at Lia's nipple, swirling slowly before taking it into her mouth.

Lia was panting--completely overwhelmed by the sensations. The cold. The heat. The wet attention of her Mistress's mouth. She clenched her thighs, but Celine held them open with a firm palm.

"Stay still," she murmured.

By the time Celine finished with the "dessert," Lia was trembling--smeared in sticky sweetness, moaning under every slow, consuming kiss and bite.

Then Celine turned her attention to the popsicle.

With a soft, wet sound, she pulled it free from Lia's pussy, drawing a sharp gasp from Lia. Her thighs quivered but still in position as Celine ordered.

"You're so soaked," Celine said with a wicked grin. "I think you should enjoy some dessert, too."

She held the dripping stick to Lia's lips.

Lia opened her mouth and took it slowly in, tasting the popsicle and herself--tasting everything. The humiliation, the sweetness, the submission--it pushed her to the edge of sanity.

And then--

Celine's mouth was on her slit.

No warning. No buildup.

Just devouring.

Her tongue moved with precision and hunger, all the pent-up desire of the evening finally being unleashed. Her fingers dug into Lia's thighs as she licked her, sucked her, drove her toward the edge with relentless skill.

Lia arched off the table.

"Mistress--!"

And then she exploded.

Her scream echoed through the kitchen as her orgasm ripped through her--violent, shaking, overwhelming. She came so hard her vision blurred, her toes curled, and the popsicle dropped from her mouth onto the floor.

Celine caught her gently, cradling her trembling form, and kissed her forehead tenderly.

"Thank you for dinner, pet," she whispered.

Lia managed a weak grin, eyes glazed, body spent.

"Anytime, Mistress," she breathed.

They lay together across the table, the air filled with melted sugar, flushed faces, and the scent of sex. Two girls on the edge of everything--lovers, explorers, bound together in submission and love.

And dessert had never tasted sweeter.