(I was doing some renovations on a swank condo for this up and coming supermodel. She was very oversexed and her name was Suzie. During a lunch break I pulled out some pancakes I had bought earlier at a breakfast diner. I offered Suzie some and she readily agreed, saying it was her favorite food, even a fetish of hers. I then told her she was the sexiest and most beautiful woman I had ever seen. She thanked me for the compliment. Then she said that if I was going to share my pancakes with her, then she was going to share a fetish story about pancakes with me. She smiled and told me her story. It was a really sexy tale. She also asked me to share it with everyone I could. So here then, is her story word for word. Hope you all enjoy it as much as I did)
I wanted blueberry pancakes. Now you would have thought, with the amazing bubble-butt I have, not to mention my oversized world class boobs, that Kevin would have crawled over broken glass to get me my desired food.
"Forget pancakes. It's dinner time, Suzie," he says to me, his eyes drooling over my curvy body like poured beer foaming over a cup's edge.
I stared at him incredulously. Does he not want my passionate, ultra glossy and ultra thick lips to kiss his swollen cock any time soon? Or doesn't he know that what Suzie wants, Suzie invariably gets?
Then he says, "I know a quiet little place not too far from here that serves great lobster."
My extremely sexy face starts to redden. Since when does a guy try to impress his date by telling her what she can and cannot eat?
Kevin smiles at me with his sexy stubble and square, stunning jaw. I glance at his impressive shoulders and V-shape musculature. A definite hunk if ever there was one.
I want to tell him to stick his lobster up his ass, but his delicious woodsy aftershave is taunting my resistance. And the devilishly wicked abs under his tight fitting silk t-shirt are making me drool. Still, if you've seen one truly amazing and gorgeous hunk you've probably seen them all.
And yet, his radiant blue eyes, and wickedly sweet dimples are simply to die for.
And yet...and yet...I have my pride.
"I'm not hungry anymore," I blurt out, my once glowing angel face now hardening into an icy glare.
I fling my arm in the air and a passing taxi screeches to a halt.
It takes Kevin a moment to catch on, but when he does, his ultra handsome face looks as though it was hit with a brick.
"What are you doing?" he asks, both mesmerized and traumatized as I strut my stuff towards the taxi.
I open the door and get ready to toss my amazing bubble butt onto the black leather seat.
Then I shout at Kevin. "Next time a girl asks for pancakes, you make sure you get 'em stacked at least a foot high, with loads of genuine maple syrup and tons of fresh butter."
I hop in and slam the door shut, then watch as he is left stranded in the middle of the street, all the colour draining from his handsome face.
"Drive," I holler at the driver, and off he goes.
I start to get so angry, I almost hyper-ventilate. I had been munching on carrot sticks and celery stalks for days, just so I could clear enough space for tonight's glorious calorie binge. But 'lobster man' had other ideas.
I light a joint, and the taxi guy looks all perplexed. But he decides not to say anything. His eyes are riveted in the mirror, and the mirror is pointed at my generous cleavage.
"You have nice eyes," he says, softening my gaze, and causing an unprovoked smile from my thick sexy lips.
"Most guys only focus on my boobs," I whisper, sucking hard on the fumes as my head started to spin. I had spent the better part of a week abstaining from yummy foods and even yummier sex, only so I might splurge on both in the same night. Sometimes that was the only thing that kept dieting possible. Was linking it to some super hot, mag cover hunk.
"You still haven't told me where you live?" he said. "I'm guessing that guy pissed you off."
"I wanted pancakes...he wanted lobster."
"Pancakes are amazing if you make them right," he said, his eyes still riveted to the mirror. Obviously I was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.
"Blueberry pancakes to be precise," I said, putting out the joint in the ashtray. The weed was really powerful, probably soaked in acid, and I didn't want to overdo it. Two long tokes were enough.
"You shouldn't smoke that shit," he cautioned, sounding genuinely concerned.
I didn't respond. I'd had enough of guys telling me what was good or not good for me lately.
"The smoke makes your pretty eyes red," he continued.
"Again with my eyes. Why don't you watch my fucking boobs instead, like normal guys, or else put them on the road in front of you where they belong."
My unexpectedly angry tone stung him, and made him a little gun shy. Then I realized I still hadn't told him where to take me. As far as he knew, he might not have even been driving in the right direction. But I didn't care. I was so fucking angry at Kevin for spoiling my evening that I decided not to say another word.
I took a business card out of my purse with my studio loft address on it and reached over the seat.
"Take me here," I told him, my voice still rank with irritation.
He gently snatched the card, glanced at it, then murmured "thanks." I could tell he was relieved he had been driving in the right direction after all. I could be a real bitch when I wanted to be, but a real sweetheart if the guy treated me with respect.
I noted that we were about ten minutes away, and suddenly I heard some honking behind me.
"It's your boyfriend," the driver said softly, knowing it might only upset me further. It did.
"I thought I told that mother fucker to fuck off," I fumed.
"Maybe he doesn't speak English," the driver mused, passing a wry smile onto his kind of cute face.
"You're good at pulling one liners out of your ass, aren't you?" I asked, not really expecting an answer.
"I can lose him if you want me to," he suddenly offered, blowing my mind.
"Really!"
"Yeah, really. I can drive passed your address, to make him believe we're going someplace else, then give him the slip and double back."
His offer was sweet music to my ears. I knew in my heart of hearts, that if given the chance once more, Kevin would gladly take me to some pancake heaven, then bring me back home for some heart stopping, pulse pounding, mind blowing sex. But...but...
But...as far as I was concerned, he had blown his chance. Time to give some other dude a try, maybe next week, or perhaps the week after. But I wasn't really trying to start a new relationship with any guy right now. And my philosophy was fairly simple. Good lovemaking was where you found it, how you found it, and when you found it. And if the mood wasn't right, it just wasn't right.
"We're passing your place now," he said, his eyes finally off my face and onto the roads ahead. He was really focused. After all, Kevin was in his Lamborghini, and could go zero to a hundred in mere seconds.
The honking stopped, a sure sign that passing my place had totally thrown off Kevin. He now had no idea where I was going.
The driver kept on going for another five minutes, with Kevin still close on his tail.
Suddenly, and without warning, the driver swerves into a turning lane and makes a left that leaves poor Kevin still going straight. He can't stop with oncoming traffic, and has to keep on going with the flow. He has no idea that the driver is turning onto a new street, headed back to my place.
"Some truly amazing driving," I tell him, honestly impressed.
