It is your 23rd birthday, a bittersweet day that has been dearly cherished and keenly awaited, albeit in the absence of your immediate family. The new city has been treating you very well, but the longing for the presence of your near and dear ones makes it slightly gloomy. Nonetheless, I end up having the pleasure and privilege of being the select few ones to be able to share this special day of yours with you, gifting my time to your soul. The whole set up and the entire day follows a lowkey theme, having subtle and simple heartful celebrations, instead of extravagant and grand meetups. The cool October air along with the fragrance of lavenders fills the atmosphere as twilight draws upon, only to be abruptly interrupted by the chime of the doorbell.
You proceed towards the door to answer, dressed up in your most comfortable and cute loose shorts, paired with a soft comfy top, and wearing a sweet characteristic fragrance that immediately catches my attention. The door swings open to the sight of me eagerly standing with a sly smile gracing my sharply trimmed face that begins blushing by now, dressed up in grey sweatpants, ankle length socks, my usual yellow bracelet and a cozy, soft hoodie. A hoodie that is soon gonna be yours to snuggle up in, and just unzipped enough to reveal my contoured collarbones. You reciprocate my greeting and welcome me inside, as I scan and observe your beautifully decorated kitchen adorned with pink fairy lights flashing in sync with the chords of Cigarettes After Sex softly playing in the background. I keep aside the packets of butter, flour, eggs, baking powder and chocolates that I brought to finally bake our own cookies, a plan that had been overdue and keenly awaited-for since the last year. You glance at my cute confused face, as you let out an enthusiastic smile in approval of my actions. Your winged-eyeliner adorned eyes stare right into my soul, coupled with your hair that's tied up into a cute messy bun.
Once I finish up emptying my bag, I gently proceed to give you a tight warm hug, my hands reaching for your back from around your arms, as I then whisper a soft "Happy Birthday, Queen" into your ears. The warmth from the hug lingers on and works wonders in the mildly cool gusts of air that blow in from across the kitchen window, ringing the wind chimes. You coyly snuggle up into your apron, as I proceed to empty the flour and eggs into a bowl, ready to be mixed. The oven is already pre-set at its required temperature, ready to accept the little nuggets of sweetness. The aroma of bittersweet dark chocolate fills the air as I set it aside to melt and turn into a silky velvety texture, ready to be blended with the dough that's being manually kneaded by your tender hands.
As you commence kneading the dough, a few strands of your hair, loosely held by your hair band get undone by a cool gust of wind and end up dangling over your lips and nose. You turn your neck towards me, indicating me to put those strands back aside, while both your hands remain buried deep in the soft warm dough. I promptly run my index and middle finger along the contour of your forehead and ear, gently tucking those strands of hair behind your ear, as the presence of mild sensual lust is all but apparent in the October atmosphere. To give you a taste of the chocolate-sugar whisk in the bowl, I dip my finger in the rich silky mixture, scooping a significant amount, and graze my finger against your lower lip. Your lips part to welcome my finger while you lick the deliciousness, all while giving me a deep heavenly stare all along. The whisked chocolate is just perfect, which you then urge me to have a taste of as well. I waste no time, gently lean in forward, and meet my lips with your chocolate glazed ones. Our lips ever so slowly enter into a mutual rendezvous, which gives you goosebumps all over, as your hands momentarily pause their movement in the dough, and your face leans towards the side to welcome me.
Our tongues get intertwined with each other, profoundly coated with the silky chocolate, as a drool of the melted chocolate drips down from the side of your lower lip, onto your thighs. You withdraw your white flour laden hands from the dough and place them on my neck, which is reciprocated by me placing my left hand on your waist, while my other hand takes a comfortable position on your back, proceeding to give you firm back scratches with my short blunt nails. You end up smothering my neck with all the white flour, while our lips continue brushing against each other, complimented with our eyelashes grazing together. Your body responds with goosebumps all over, following the path that my other hand carves on your back, as I then turn my attention to your earlobes and bite them and pull them ever so cautiously. Meanwhile, my hand on your waist coyly moves downwards to caress your inner thighs. The gentle contact between my fingers and your thighs makes your breathing heavier, as you end up arching your back in response to the stimulus.
My peripheral vision catches the glimpse of the warm melted chocolate that had dripped onto your left thigh. I promptly lower myself to savor that essence and clean up your left thigh, while still continuing to caress your right thigh with my upper hand with slow firm strokes, up from the knee and down from the waist. My swollen lips touch your left thigh, as I lick that chocolate clean, sending your body into a quiver. The ominous presence of lust is all but unmistakable now, as you wink your eye and bite your lower lip to signal me. I stand back up, while you proceed to sit on the nearby tall wooden kitchen stool beside the oven, giving me direct access to your heavenly body. A body that is sprinkled with random imperfections, just like the presence of occasional chocolate chips in a vanilla cookie. The same imperfections also end up being the sweetest, most loved part of the cookie, and the most sought after.