Sweet Like Cherry Pie

Author's Note:

Candi Rhodes wasn't planning on sharing more than her tits tonight - but when a late-night delivery turns up mid-stream, the cheeky Q&A session becomes something far dirtier. This is a story about control, exhibitionism, and self-pleasure... with a surprise guest appearance.

Introducing Candi. She's bold, body-confident, and dirtier than my search history - and she loves an audience. This one's for the voyeurs, the stream-watchers, and anyone who's ever thought: what if the delivery guy really came in?

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The live-stream hadn't even started, and Candi Rhodes was already a sight.

She sat in her crushed velvet salon chair like she owned the fucking screen - one thick thigh draped lazily over the other, platinum-blonde hair scraped up in a high ponytail that swung with attitude. Her body was all curve and carnality: big natural tits barely restrained by her unbuttoned cherry-print pyjamas, pierced right nipple already brushing the cotton. Her tattoos peeked out everywhere - script ink curling along one forearm, something delicate on her wrist, and an elegant floral piece on her upper thigh, half-covered by the hem of her shorts.

Her makeup was bold. Lashes heavy, cheekbones glinting with highlighter, lips glossed and full. And just above her top lip - a small stud piercing, catching the ring light like a wink with an edge.

This wasn't some filtered influencer fantasy. This was a real woman. Late 30s. Thick, filthy, and glorious.

She ran the stream from her converted garden salon - part content studio, part kink den - and tonight, she was naked underneath her pyjamas and didn't give a single fuck who knew it. She rarely did, with a confidence to match the size of her tits.

The live-stream flicked on with a soft ping. Candi filled the screen like she was born to be there, her glossy lips wrapped around a strawberry lollipop.

"Evenin', babes," she said with a wink, eyes scanning the screen as the chat blew up. "Let's have it, yeah? You know the rules - I'll answer your questions and I'll do what I'm told if you say it sweet and keep the tips coming."

She paused, then added in a fake southern drawl: "Sweet like Cherry Pie!"

The messages flew in.

"Fucking hell, Candi, what a sight!"

"Candi, do you sleep naked?"

"Tell us how many people you've had in one night."

"What's the weirdest place you've ever shagged?"

"Ever been caught?"

"What's the biggest dick you've ever had?"

Candi laughed. She crossed one bare thigh over the other and leaned into the camera, her tits practically pouring out of her half-open pyjama top, jiggling deliciously with the shift.

"My, my," she said. "You lot are nosy fuckers tonight."

She took the lollipop from her mouth and twirled it between her fingers. Then answered them, one by one.

"Yeah, I sleep naked. Bra off, legs open, window cracked. Like a filthy dream on a warm night."

Swipe.

"Three lads, one night. Different sizes, all clueless. I trained 'em, though. Left 'em speechless."

Swipe.

"Weirdest place? Cab ride home. I wasn't just shagging in the back - I was riding in the back. Told the driver not to stop 'til I finished. He looped the block three times."

She chuckled as the comments exploded.

"Fucking hell Candi"

"God I'd pay for that ride"

Swipe.

Candi snorted as she read the next question, tits bouncing as she adjusted in the chair.

"Babe, I've been caught so many times I might as well sell fuckin' tickets."

She licked a finger, circled one nipple slow.

"Once got bent over me kitchen table - window wide open, neighbours opposite got the full show. Didn't even flinch. Just waved when I came. Sometimes, I like an audience, d'know what I mean?" she added with a wink.

Swipe.

"Biggest dick?" Candi cackled - a full-on belly laugh, tits jiggling, eyes shining.

"Oof, you dirty little measurement freaks. Alright, then..." she thought for a second or two,

"Met him in Benidorm. Stag do lad. Tall, quiet, looked like he couldn't hurt a fly. Had a fuckin' anaconda in his pants."

She licked her lips, eyes darkening.

"Couldn't take it all. Not the first time. Took me three tries and a bottle of lube. Felt like he was touchin' my fuckin' lungs."

She leaned forward, whispered with a grin. "And I came so hard I couldn't walk straight at breakfast. Worth it, though. Every fuckin' inch."

The comments went wild again.

"Lucky bastard"

"Wish I'd seen that"

"Do you have that video for sale, Candi ;-)"

"Get them tits out, girl"

She smirked, eyes narrowing with hunger. "Oh, you want these?" She palmed her breasts through the fabric, squeezing them together, the curve of her pierced nipple just visible through the cotton.

"Oil 'em up!"

She reached for the bottle beside her chair, slowly and deliberately, and held it up like a toast. "Alright, since you're beggin'..."

She opened her top, letting it slip from her shoulders. No bra. Just two of the juiciest tits ever put on camera.

Candi poured the oil across her chest - thick and sinful. It trickled between her cleavage and down her belly as she massaged it in, full-palmed, moaning softly as she squeezed them together.

"Look at 'em, babes. Heavy, soft, covered in fuckin' oil...bet you're grippin' your cock already. Or rubbin' that clit with two fingers like a good girl."

The pierced nipple peeked between her slick fingers. She tugged it, gasping for real.

More questions lit up the chat.

"You into girls, Candi?"

"Ever had your arse eaten?"

"How loud do you cum?"

She licked oil from her thumb and smiled. "Yes. Yes. Loud enough to get a warning letter from my landlord."

She stood, slow and slick, her pyjama bottoms clinging to her hips. "Want 'em off?" she asked the screen. "Type the word."

"CHERRY!" flooded the chat.

She peeled them down - bent over to do it, of course - arse plump and proud, slick thighs pressed together, a teasing flash of her pussy lips as the fabric slid past.

Fully nude now, she turned back to the camera, hips cocked, one hand stroking the oil over her belly, the other gliding between her legs.

"You lot are gettin' me fuckin' soaked," she roared.

Then, a sound.

Ding-dong.

The doorbell rang.

Candi froze. One oily hand still between her thighs. Her mouth curved into a dirty, curious grin.

"Fuck...I weren't expectin' anyone."

She picked up the phone and winked. "Don't go anywhere, babes. Let me just see who's knockin' at me door..."

She stepped out of frame, her arse giving one last hypnotic bounce as she walked.

The stream kept rolling.

The chat went berserk.

And the empty chair waited.

***

The camera stayed fixed on the empty chair - still glistening from where Candi had writhed and played, soft indent of her slick arse still visible in the velvet.

The chat was feral.

"Where'd she go??"

"Don't stop now, ffs!"

"She better be naked answering that..."

From off-screen there was the muffled click of the front door. Voices. A short pause.

Then - footsteps. Two pairs.

Candi reappeared first. Naked. Oiled. Glowing.

She was carrying a small brown package under one arm, her other hand loosely holding her phone.

A second figure trailed just behind - a delivery driver, early twenties, average build, baseball cap low, face never shown. Hoodie zipped high. Hands shoved awkwardly in his pockets.

The chat exploded.

"WHO is that?"

"No fucking way she answered like that."

"Stream of the year!"

Candi grinned into the camera, then turned to the driver, lips curled into a wicked smile.

"This one rocked up with a parcel and nearly dropped it starin' at me tits," Candi said, turning to the camera with a smirk. "But same rules apply, babe...you wanna look, you fuckin' pay."

The chat lit up again.

"Is this real???"

"WTF!"

"How do I get to be a delivery guy in your area, Candi?"

"This might be my new dildo, babe," she purred, shaking the package lightly. "Or that latex body I ordered. You ever deliver sin in a box before?"

The driver chuckled, clearly flustered, eyes glued to her tits - still slick with oil, pierced nipple standing proud in the cool air.

She held the package up to the camera. "Since you were all into size earlier, shall we see what's bigger - this..."

Then she turned her gaze slowly toward the driver's crotch.

"...or that?"

The comments roared.

"DO IT."

"Bet his is thicker."

"Compare the goods!"

Candi turned to the driver. "You alright bein' on cam, babe? Face stays out of frame - but the good bits don't."

He froze a second, clearly not sure if this was a dream or a setup, before giving a slow nod.

"That's a yes," she said, pleased.

She tossed the package onto the table and guided him toward her chair, pushing gently on his chest. He sat, just out of frame at the shoulders, legs apart.

She turned to the stream, tits bouncing with every step.

"You filthy lot are lucky tonight. Didn't plan this - swear on me life - but you've just pulled a bonus feature."

She dropped to her knees between his legs, her hand already grazing the growing bulge beneath his joggers.

"Let's see what he's packin', shall we?"

She looked up into the lens - bold, hungry, oiled skin glowing.

"Let's see if this dick's worth more than what I ordered..."

***

Candi was already on her knees between his spread thighs, hand stroking the bulge in his joggers through the soft cotton. Her nails dragged lightly across the fabric. His cock twitched beneath her palm - not fully hard yet, but promising.

The stream lit up.

"Take. It. Out."

"Bet he's a shrimp dick."

"Is she really gonna suck him??"

Candi tilted her head and smirked up at the camera. "Reckon he's nervous. First time gettin' unwrapped on cam. First time gettin' compared to a dildo too, I'll bet."

She reached behind her, grabbing the parcel from the side table, and ripped it open with one hand.

Out came a thick black silicone dildo - long, curved, veined.

She held it up beside the outline of his cock. "That's a proper challenge, that is. But I reckon we'll know soon enough..."

She looked up at him. "Let me, babe."

With no resistance, she hooked her fingers into the waistband of his joggers and boxers and pulled them down in one smooth, deliberate motion.

The chat exploded.

"FUCK ME"

"Jesus he's hung"

"Candi, you lucky cow"

His cock sprung free - long, thick, uncut. Not as big as the toy, but more than enough to make Candi's pierced nipple visibly harden again at the sight.

"Well fuck me," she mouthed. "Looks like I might need both hands."

She licked her palm slowly, dramatically, then wrapped one hand around the base and gave him a long, slow stroke. His cock jerked in response, swelling in her grip.

"Look at it," she murmured to the camera. "Thick as a wrist and already leaking. You lot wankin' yet?"

She brought her second hand up - now both wrapped around the shaft, stroking him from base to tip with a rhythm that was more performance than practicality.

Then she leaned forward, her tongue flicking over the head, collecting the bead of precum with a soft mmm.

She teased him - tiny licks, little kisses, the head just brushing her lips. Her arms squeezed her oiled tits together so they framed her face like a halo of filth.

And then, without warning, she took him.

One deep, wet swallow. Her lips wrapped wide around him, her throat working as she pushed down inch by inch. She gagged slightly but kept going.

The viewers lost it.

"YESSSSSS"

"Take it all, Candi"

"Throat GOAT!!"

She pulled back, drool running from the corner of her mouth, down to her tits. She used it. Let it smear, let it shine.

"So maybe not as big as the dildo, but better," she grinned, voice hoarse, cock still in hand. "This one is warmer and fights back."

Then she smacked it lightly against her cheek. Once. Twice. Loving the weight. Loving the control.

"You wanna see me ride this?" she asked the chat.

"YES."

"Do it now!"

"PLEASE"

She stood, tits bouncing, eyes feral.

"Get comfy, driver," she said, rolling a condom onto him and climbing into his lap.

Then she turned to camera one last time before lowering herself slowly onto him - moaning, mouth open, and body arching.

And the feed was nothing but skin and wetness and the sweet, slick sound of Candi Rhodes taking what she wanted.

***

Candi sat on him facing the camera, thighs slick and strong, her oily body shining sinnfully under the low red lights. She held his cock at the base, guiding it against her soaked pussy lips - not in yet, just sliding it along her slit, teasing herself, teasing him, teasing the stream.

"You ready, sweetheart?" she whispered to him, not waiting for an answer. "You're gonna remember this pussy for the rest of your fuckin' life."

She turned to the camera, still straddling him, and spread her lips with two fingers - obscene, glossy, open.

"Get a good look, boys. She's fuckin' hungry."

Then she lowered herself until the thick head of his cock popped inside.

Candi gasped.

"Fucking hell," she hissed, her thighs trembling slightly already. "He's a fuckin' beast."

She sank lower, inch by inch, her body adjusting to the stretch, her tits bouncing with every tremor. She paused halfway, hands on his chest, eyes fluttering shut.

"Jesus. Feels like he's rearranging my fuckin' insides."

Then she pushed the rest of the way down, grinding her hips in a slow, filthy circle as she settled onto his lap fully impaled.

The chat exploded.

"Candi you fucking legend"

"Ride that cock like it owes you rent"

"CAM ZOOM!!"

Candi planted her hands on his chest, tossed her head back, and started to move.

Slow at first - a grind more than a bounce, working her clit against his base, making sure every inch of her pussy was savouring every inch of his cock. Her stomach tightened. Her tits swayed. Her mouth dropped open.

She picked up the pace.

Now she was bouncing, hard and fast, the slap of her arse against his thighs echoing around the room. Her hands dragged up her own oiled body, squeezing her massive tits together, pinching her pierced nipple with a snarl.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," she moaned, losing herself in the rhythm. "He's hitting every fuckin' spot... I'm gonna..."

She didn't finish the sentence.

Her whole body spasmed, eyes wide, lips trembling. She came hard, collapsing forward against his chest with a cry that made the comments explode.

But she didn't stop.

Didn't even slow down.

"Not done yet, babe," she said, breathless, grinding down hard. "You're gonna cum for me, yeah? Fill that rubber, make these dirty fuckers jealous."

She leaned back, palms on her thighs now, and rode him like a machine. She was in control. She was the show. She was unstoppable.

His breath caught. She knew it.

She leaned in and whispered in his ear: "Cum for me, delivery boy. Right in front of all of them. Let them fuckin' see."

He tensed and groaned. His hips bucked once, twice, and then he was cumming, cock pulsing, buried deep inside her. The condom swelled as he emptied into it, her pussy still fluttering, milking every last drop..

Candi slowed, her body collapsing back onto him, both of them drenched in sweat and cum and oil.

The chat was an inferno.

"UNREAL"

"I fucking came with her"

"Is it over? Don't be over..."

Candi turned her head to the camera, hair stuck to her forehead, chest still rising and falling.

"Oh, you think that was it?" she said, voice low and dangerous. "You ain't seen dessert yet."

***

The room pulsed with the aftershock of orgasm - heavy with heat, slick with oil, and temporarily silent but for the panting breath of two well-used bodies.

Candi leant back across his chest, her thighs still twitching with little after-quakes of pleasure. His cock, softening inside the condom, was still buried in her, and she could feel the weight of his release pooling against her walls.

She smiled against his neck. "Bet you weren't expectin' that when you rang the bell, were you?"

He laughed softly, still breathless, hands resting on her hips like he was afraid to let go.

The camera was still rolling. The chat still feral.

"GOD she's unreal."

"One more. Please one more!"

"Candi, finish on your tits, PLEASE"

Candi rolled off his lap slowly, deliberately. The condom slipped free, heavy and sagging, and she tossed it into the bin with a lazy flick of her wrist. She turned back to the camera, hair wild, skin glowing, body painted in sweat and oil and something close to victory.

"I spoil you lot," she murmured, crawling toward the tripod, eyes locked to the lens. "But I've still got somethin' left."

She knelt on her chair, legs spread wide, pussy slick, thighs sticky with the mix of lube and sweat and cum. Her hands cupped her tits - those big, proud, oiled-up tits - and lifted them, presenting them to the camera like a gift.

Behind her, the driver stirred - exhausted but game.

She looked back. "Got one more in you?"

He nodded slowly.

"Don't worry, babe," she said, stroking the underside of his shaft with two fingers. "I'll do all the work this time."

She dipped her head, took him into her mouth again. Her lips glided over him, tongue circling the tip like a lollipop, eyes never leaving the camera.

As he began to harden again, she worked him like a prize.

Stroke. Suck. Spit. Repeat.

Until he was fully erect, young cock pulsing. She sat back, grinning, and pressed her tits together with both hands.

"Here," she whispered. "All over me."

He groaned, his hand moving fast now - guided by her voice, her eyes, her body - until his breath hitched, and with a grunt he came again. A thick rope of cum hit her chest, then another, then another - streaking across her oiled tits, splashing the piercing, dripping over her sternum.

The camera zoomed in as she smeared it across her chest, laughing softly.

"You dirty fuckers happy now?" she said, licking a drop from her finger and moaning for the mic.

"Look at that!"

"What a fucking mess"

"Candi you are UNREAL!!"

She looked back at the driver. "Go on then. Clean up. I'll send you off with a five-star review."

He laughed, still dazed, grabbing his clothes.

Candi turned back to the camera one last time, tits covered in spunk and oil, still gleaming.

"Endin' the stream in five," she said, licking her lips. "Don't forget to tip your host..."

She winked, blew a kiss, and reached for the camera with one hand.

Click.

Stream offline.

***

The lights had dimmed, the air thick with the fading scent of sex, oil, and sweat. The delivery driver was long gone - sent off with a cheeky slap on the arse and a wink - and now it was just Candi, alone again.

Her cherry-print pyjamas lay crumpled on the floor, forgotten. Her salon chair was streaked with oil and pleasure, the crushed velvet shining under the soft red light. Her camera sat on the tripod, screen black, stream ended.

She stood in front of the mirror - completely nude, tits still alive with spit and cum, her thighs marked with finger-shaped smudges. Her hair was wild, her mouth swollen, her skin flushed.

And she looked fucking gorgeous.

She grabbed a warm flannel from the side table, pressed it to her chest, slowly wiping away the mess, but not the memory.

"Another good night," she murmured to herself, tossing the cloth into the laundry basket and reaching for her robe - sliding it on loose, letting it hang open.

She padded barefoot into the kitchenette, cracked open a cold can of Coke, and stood by the open window - tits still on show, the robe hanging useless at her sides, the night breeze kissing her skin.