Forbidden Fruit Fantasies

The scent of ripe fruit hung heavy in the air, a bizarre perfume masking the usual scent of our bedroom. My best girlfriend, bless her twisted soul, had always insisted I possessed all the right curves in all the wrong places. It wasn't a compliment, exactly, but it was a fact. I was lean, athletic, sculpted from muscle and bone, lacking the soft, yielding curves that most women crave. My husband, Mark, however, seemed oblivious to my shortcomings. He practically begged to see me naked, a constant, insistent need that both intrigued and slightly unnerved me. For weeks, I’d been fighting the urge to do something completely out of character, something utterly ridiculous. Then, two weeks ago, the idea struck me, sharp and insistent like a jolt of electricity. I purchased a selection of vibrant fruits – plump, juicy grapes, ruby-red strawberries, smooth, creamy bananas, sweet, succulent melon, and tangy pineapple – from the local supermarket.

That night, as we settled in for a movie marathon in our bedroom, I casually mentioned that I needed to take a shower. “And maybe you should make yourself comfortable before I get back,” I added, a sly smile playing on my lips. Mark, always eager to please, quickly shed his clothes and lay naked on the bed, his eyes already fixed on me. It was then that I revealed my surprise. “I have a little something planned,” I whispered, my voice laced with anticipation. “But you can only have it if you completely ‘obey’ me.”

I slipped out of the bathroom and into the kitchen, carefully selecting pieces of each fruit. The excitement bubbling within me threatened to overwhelm me. The thought of this intimate, playful experience sent shivers down my spine. Normally, I would be lost in the throes of masturbation during a shower, but I held back, determined to savor every moment of this bizarre ritual with my husband. When I returned, dripping with water and carrying my fruity arsenal, I donned a silk negligee, a splash of crimson against the deep blue of the velvet bedding. I ascended the stairs, my heart pounding in my chest, and found Mark still naked on the bed, his gaze unwavering.

I dimmed the lights, turning the room into a soft, sensual haven. Without a word, I began my assault, rubbing pieces of each fruit across my body. First, the grapes, clinging to my neck and upper back, their cool juice seeping into my skin. Then, the strawberries, smeared across my lower thigh, their sweet scent intoxicating. Next, the bananas, coating my lower back and lower abdomen, their creamy texture a tantalizing contrast to the coolness of the grapes. The melon followed, spread across my breasts, its pale green flesh clinging to my skin. Finally, the pineapple, meticulously applied to my nipples, their delicate skin tingling with anticipation. Each piece of fruit served as a miniature, delectable invitation, building a crescendo of desire within me.

As I finished, I turned to Mark, my eyes sparkling with mischief. He recognized the shift in atmosphere, the palpable tension hanging in the air. He was already quite aroused, his body tensed with anticipation. I informed him that he needed to identify each fruit I had smeared on my body using only his tongue. The challenge was explicit, demanding both precision and passion. He eagerly agreed, his eagerness palpable. He began with the grapes on my neck, licking each tiny piece with intense focus. Then, he moved on to the strawberries on my thigh, his tongue tracing the contours of my muscles. The bananas followed, coating his palate with their creamy sweetness. The melon brought a refreshing coolness, while the pineapple delivered a burst of tangy delight.

Throughout the process, Mark tried to rush me, attempting to get to my breasts before completing the task. But I held firm, maintaining control and savoring the anticipation. Finally, he reached my garden, a wave of pleasure washing over me as he explored the sensitive area. The experience was overwhelming, igniting a powerful desire within me. I quickly lost control, succumbing to a truly magnificent orgasm.

At this point, Mark was desperate to penetrate me. But instead, I commanded him to go to the kitchen and spread some fruit on himself for me to taste. He immediately complied, rushing out of the room and returning moments later, holding a single, perfectly ripe strawberry. He presented it to me, his eyes pleading for release. I took the strawberry, savoring its sweetness as I began to lick it off his penis. The sensation was exquisite, a blend of pleasure and control.

As I continued to lick him, using my hand to gently stroke his love shaft, he became increasingly hard, his muscles tensed with anticipation. He begged me to continue, demanding more and more stimulation. I obliged, pushing him to the brink of ecstasy. Finally, he reached his breaking point, his body convulsing with pleasure. I pulled back, savoring the moment before resuming my ministrations.

The second time, I looked up at Mark, a playful glint in my eyes. I told him I loved him and wanted him to come inside me, but I also felt a powerful urge for another orgasm. He quickly moved his hand between my legs, and soon I could feel the familiar heat building within me. He knew exactly what I craved, and he provided it with incredible skill and sensitivity. As I reached the peak of my pleasure, he pushed his penis into me, igniting a fresh wave of sensation. My orgasm was one of the most intense I had ever experienced, amplified by the unusual setting and the sheer pleasure of his touch.

He collapsed on top of me, exhausted but satisfied, and we lay together for a while, lost in the aftermath of our shared experience. The scent of fruit still hung in the air, a lingering reminder of our bizarre and unforgettable encounter. It wasn't just a sexual experience; it was a playful, sensual exploration of our desires, a testament to our unconventional love. As we drifted off to sleep, intertwined in the velvet sheets, I couldn’t help but smile, knowing that our relationship was anything but ordinary. It was messy, chaotic, and utterly perfect, just like me and my husband.

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Forbidden Fruit Fantasies

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