Dark Brew, Sweet Deception

I wake up, alone in bed, to the smell of coffee. There is a bell on the nightstand with a card that says, “Ring for Room Service.” I grin as I sit up in bed, tug the sheet up over my naked breasts, then ring the bell.

My husband walks in, naked except for a chef’s apron tied around his waist. His 24-year-old, fit, tan body with arms covered in tattoos is such a turn-on to me. The sunlight streaming through the sheer curtains catches the sheen of sweat already forming on his chest, highlighting the sculpted muscles beneath. His gaze sweeps over me, lingering on my curves, a slow, deliberate appraisal that sets my pulse racing. He hands me a black coffee—and he knows I don’t take my coffee black. The aroma of dark roast fills the air, mingling with the lingering scent of his skin.

“Where is the cream?” I ask, my voice husky with sleep and anticipation.

“We are out of the regular cream, ma’am,” he informs me with a straight face, “but I do have a special cream I believe you would enjoy.” He gestures subtly towards the side table, where a small, unmarked jar sits alongside the coffee pot. The jar is filled with a thick, pale yellow substance, its consistency resembling whipped cream but with a slightly viscous quality. I can practically feel the heat radiating from his body, the tension in his muscles a clear indication of his arousal.

“Yes, please, let me try that.” I hand him back the cup and gasp when he unties his apron and I see his semi-hard cock bouncing. The sight alone sends shivers down my spine. It’s a primal, undeniable urge, a physical manifestation of his desire for me. He grabs it and squeezes, using slow pulls and stretches until he swells to his full size. Then he starts pumping furiously, the rhythm escalating with each thrust. The movement is powerful, almost violent, yet entirely captivating. I watch, mesmerized, as he focuses his attention on my cup, his eyes never leaving my face.

“My lady, would you consider showing me your lovely breasts to speed this along before your coffee gets cold?” he whispers, his voice thick with anticipation. The challenge in his tone, the blatant invitation, ignites a fire within me. Slowly, deliberately, I pull the sheet down, exposing my tits to his gaze. They hang heavy and full, the nipples already tingling with the promise of pleasure. “Thank you, ma’am. Your breasts are quite lovely.” He leans closer, inhaling deeply, savoring my scent.

I lift and squeeze them as he compliments me, pushing against his chest, feeling his body press into mine. “Could I bother you to rub your nipples? I promise my special cream will not disappoint.” I rub circles around my areolas and moan, then arch my back as I pinch them and twist them so hard they slip from my fingers. The sensation is exquisite, a sharp, piercing pleasure that intensifies my arousal. “I’m close, my lady, sooo close…”

I lift my breasts and start licking and sucking my nipples, drawing out a small amount of fluid from each one. The warmth of his breath on my skin, the heat radiating from his body, makes me feel like I’m on the edge of a precipice, teetering between restraint and abandon. Then, pushing his big cock down, he shoots thick, hot ropes of his cum into my coffee cup. The liquid quickly mixes with the dark brew, creating a swirling vortex of dark brown and pale yellow. He smiles and hands me the cup, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

His “special cream” floats on top of the dark brew. I lick the cup’s rim to catch a drip that has run down the side. “Mmmmm.” Then, pressing the cup against my lips, I slowly take the coffee and cream into my mouth and savor the flavor. The combination of bitter coffee and sweet cream is intoxicating, a decadent indulgence that further fuels my desire. After I swallow, I tell him, “Most delicious coffee and cream I have ever tasted.”

A drip falls from his softening cock. “Does my lady desire anything else at this time?” my server asks, entering the room with a tray holding a silver platter covered in a white linen cloth. I set my coffee down with a smile, remove my covers, and spread my legs. Three fingers rub my wet pussy, the sensitive flesh responding to the gentle touch. “How about a breakfast treat for you?” I suggest, my voice a low murmur.

He climbs on the bed and crawls between my legs, licking his lips. Before he dives in, he bends my knees and runs the edge of his tongue lightly up the inside of one thigh. The sensation is both electrifying and stimulating, sending shivers through my entire body. But when he reaches my split, he attacks with a ferocity that takes my breath away. The force of his movements, the roughness of his touch, is overwhelming, pushing me to the brink of ecstasy.

“Oh! Aaaah…” I grab his head and hump against his delving tongue, my body arching in pleasure. The intense friction, the heat radiating from his body, makes me lose all sense of control. My hips begin to sway involuntarily, my breath coming in ragged gasps.

My husband puts his neck into it, sliding his nose against my clit with each lap of my pussy juices. He pulls inarticulate mumbling from me, along with a few expletives! After a while, he rises to his knees. I lift my hips and watch as he grabs his cock and rubs the head up and down my wet mound. Apparently, my taste and response to his attentions have had a positive effect!

I start wiggling and moaning, my body shaking uncontrollably. “P-please, please take me.” He slowly pushes his head in, then pulls it out, and repeats this several times until I’m thrashing back and forth. “Please don’t tease me. Please!”

Finally, he enters me slowly, pressing forward until his abdomen meets my pubic bone ridge. His head passes over my G-spot to a sensitive place deep in my tunnel. I can’t help wiggling and grinding on him as he holds stock still. His big hands wrap around my waist, and our eyes locked as he gripped me tightly.

Then, without warning, he begins to pound.

My eyes go wide, then roll back in my head and flutter shut. His rapid thrusts pull cries out of me that bounce off the walls. The intensity creates a tension inside me that builds up to a climax, releases with a hard pulse and gush, then leaves me limp and breathing hard until the next wave begins to crest minutes later. But his thrusts aren’t only fast; they’re long ones that rake across my G-spot and then strike that deep one over and over. What stamina!

My breasts bounce around in a circular motion with each hard stroke. I moan and thrash as my husband gives me everything he’s got. He’s never been so rough, and I’ve never wanted it so badly. Every nerve in my pussy tingles, and my juices gush like a raging river, splashing off his abs and up my body!

Finally, he starts to make the groaning sound that tells me he’s about to cum.

“In my mouth,” I beg. “I want more of your sweet cream.”

My husband pulls out and straddles my chest, his hand keeping a pace on his cock that keeps him right at the brink of orgasm. He grabs my hair and pulls my head up and forward. As I gasp and open my mouth, he shoves half of his cock into my mouth and holds me steady while he pumps his cum into it. Then, he pulls out, and his cum runs out of my mouth as I struggle to swallow it all.

He’s breathing hard and grinning from ear to ear, happy that his little roleplay turned out so well. “Anything else I can do for you, ma’am?” he pants.

“Yes,” I tell him, feeling very satisfied and completely worn out though it’s only been an hour since I woke. “Cuddle me?”

“With pleasure, my lady.” He wipes a dribble of cum from the side of my chin, then flops down beside me and pulls me against him for a midmorning nap.

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