Smiling down at you, so happy you trust me as I tie your left hand down at the corner of the big table where you spend so many hours creating your art. "Done," I say, now that you are at my mercy, I lick my lips in anticipation for what I have in mind for you.
Liking how you bite your lip as I take the mixing bowl in my right hand and a large spatula in my left, your eyes watching my every movement. I gaze down your naked body, watching your breasts rise and fall with your quickened breathing, your ribs leading down to your fit tummy, the curves of your hipbones indicating the trail to your center of pleasure. "Freshly shaved," I smile, "I'm glad you prepped for me,"
I let the spatula tease across your labia. Already your essence leaks from you; I smear the frosting and pussy dew up and down your center, and then bring it to my lips, licking the white plastic lewdly. "My favorite frosting flavor," I say, looking up at you again, getting lost in your gorgeous eyes. Without a moment to lose I slowly pour the sugary mess of frosting onto your bare, smooth skin, starting at your left hipbone, making a thin trail across your mons as I giggle at your reaction. I make a weaving road over your belly button, a ragged trail over your ribs before the stream splits, making a serpentine bra of drizzled frosting on each breast. A meandering circle stopping at the peak of each hard nipple, "Yum," I shiver, before starting the line again between your breasts, curling the line up your neck and chin. I allow the frosting to stop dripping on your lips, so full and lush, I stop, having to kiss you now, kiss you hard, smearing the frosting between our nearly warring mouths, tongues urgently slurping and tasting each other!
Setting the frosting bowl and spatula down, I begin kissing and licking the frosting off your chin and cheek, loving how your groans of pleasure and frustration mix with my own growls of delight as I suck at the pool of frosting in the hollow of your throat. Licking and slurping I clean you up best I can, only stopping to look over the counter, ensuring there's no customers waiting at the door. The frosting compliments your sweet and clean taste, your hint of perfume in your cleavage making my own panties damp beneath my skirt and apron.
Eagerly I clean each of your pert breasts, following my circular trail to the aching, glazed points that top them, using my teeth to rub the sugar from the deeply crinkled nipples that you seem to enjoy teasing me with every day and every night!
Sighing, I leave your flushed breasts, loving how you involuntarily suck in your tummy as my lips and tongue wander your ribs before sinking into the miniature pit of your belly button. Taking a breath my gaze goes from your clenching toes, up past your firm thighs and diamond hard nipples to your hands, fingers tight into fists before relaxing, I have to smile as I can smell your arousal, "You must be so wet," I say, my face glazed with the thin frosting! Quickly my head moves around and down your torso, your sensitive skin on your hips tasting even more wonderful then I remember, my hand gliding up and down your leg, feeling it tighten and loosen as my mouth begins the home stretch towards your frosted clit and labia! Stopping finally, I remove the apron and skirt, my camisole quickly also joining the pile of clothes on the chair before I climb onto the sturdy table between your outstretched legs. I kneel and pinch my nipples for you, "I love this," I admit to you.
Resting my hands on either thigh, I place a hard kiss on your clitoris, the frosting making for hard but delightful work to clear if off, your moans so loud, I have to check over the counter again, but only passersby do I see, and none peer into the store.
Flattening my tongue out, I slowly pull it up your frosted labia, the frosting even thinner as I realize there is a pool of frosting and your essence on the table beneath your bum! "Poor baby," I grin, "Let me clean you all up!" I suck each of your labia hard into my mouth, your skin so smooth, so warm and fleshy between my lips.