Creamy Fun
Cream turns me on.
Luscious, smooth, thick, thick cream. Dollops of it. Bowlfuls of it, oozing, running, flowing. A lusty indulgence, a sinful luxury in a non-fat, low-carb, aspartame-flavored world, a plethora of tasty sensuality poured out and consumed hungrily. Even the word cream is lustrous. It lives quietly in the mouth, a breathy utterance that ends in a smile. It evokes the texture and taste and the gentle, velvety richness. You know how much I love cream, how I want to be creamed up, over and on. You indulge me in this. You love it too.
You seduced me with poetry on cream-textured paper, enticed me with your cream-colored tie. At dinner you fed me chocolate pudding, but it was just an excuse to pour thick, yellowish, Jersey cream all over the dark, sticky sweetness. I licked the spoon and laughed. Today you are making love to me in a cream-colored room. Your kisses are full, open and urgent. We both taste of dessert and desire. You undress me quickly yet carefully, my nipples jutting out with lust, my pussy throbbing with need.
You push me gently back on the bed, urging my legs open and running light fingertips across my creamy white thighs. I rest against cream-colored cotton sheets, soft with use and welcoming against my skin. I imagine that the bed is a bowl of cream and I am floating in it, surrounded by soft, silky lushness. You have placed a silver jug of pure cream by the bed. Now you hold it above my prone body with a mischievous smile, one corner of your mouth turned up with glee. You tilt the jug but don’t allow the contents to spill just yet. This is a moment of power, a moment where you know I’m trembling, waiting for you.
At last the slow, fluid cascade begins, and cool cream hits my warm belly, sliding leisurely down my sides and leaving goosebumps in its wake. Soon your hot tongue is against my flesh, licking me clean, erasing the creamy chaos and creating a new, fresh canvas, ready for more. We pause while you pour cream into my waiting, open mouth. It coats my 
tongue, rests pleasantly against my teeth, and flows down my throat effortlessly.
You produce a can of sweetened whipped cream and decorate my breasts with a flourish. Suddenly I’m a naked cupcake, a fleshly dessert topped with white spirals of succulence, ready to be devoured, Your tongue once again makes light work of me, and I shiver. I imagine that the bed is a bowl of cream and I am floating in it…
The ice-cream surprises me. It’s the expensive kind, the pure vanilla sort made with real cream. The sudden chill against my clitoris jolts me into stiffness, but I melt as your hot mouth covers my cunt and sucks it clean, your tongue swirling against my throbbing bud, finding the cherry amid the sundae.
Soon you are covering my pussy with more cream from the silver jug and licking me like a cat devouring a bowlful of milk. I’m writhing, panting, exuberant with pleasure, the creamy taste lingering in my mouth mixed with the flavor of passion. I cum in your mouth, my body engulfed in a wave of white, smooth ecstasy. The spasms have barely died before you’re fucking me, furiously, desperately, your cock driving hard into my cunt and igniting further explosions of pleasure.
You cum, your own cream spurting into me, filling me like a perverted eclair, adding the final touch to the wanton creamy creation lying prone on the bed. We lay together on the messy, stained, cream-colored sheets, languid and sated, our bellies full and our hearts happy. Sleep beckons. The jug of leftover cream sits abandoned on the bedside table, but it doesn’t matter. There’s plenty more in the fridge.
This story and pictures are courtesy of erotic fiction for women at FOR THE GIRLS.
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PG Magazine
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By the Campfire
Simone took several deep breaths of the cool night air with satisfaction. The stars were out, and the night was unusually warm. Crickets chirped conspiratorially, sharing their own secrets, oblivious to the human intruders in their midst. Surprisingly for this time of year, they were alone at the campsite. It was just her and Gavin, both of them thrilled to have the place to themselves, surrounded by the towering trees of the forest, snug within the circle of light from the glowing fire. They’d hiked several miles that day, bathed by a waterfall and shared a simple evening meal. They’d said few words all day, each comfortable in the other’s company and not fearful of silence.
Now Gavin emerged from the tent and spread his beloved and extremely scruffy “bear rug” on the ground by the fire. Grinning, he sat on it and patted the empty space beside him. “Saved a spot for you.” Simone returned his smile, a blossom of gratitude erupting in her stomach. She’d been alone so long, and finally, finally, she’d found someone that was right. They’d been together for nearly a year now, and every day he found a new way to make her smile. She couldn’t remember ever being so totally in tune with another person, and she still found herself feeling like the luckiest woman in the world. She loved the way he had three sugars in his coffee. She admired his passionate love of nature. She found his tattoos positively rebellious. And she couldn’t get enough of his beautiful, strong body.
Now his muscular arms were reaching for her, and she was enveloped in an embrace like coming home. His kisses were gentle and loving at first, but soon they became more urgent. He began kissing her neck, on the spot that always made her shiver, and she giggled at the sensation. His fingers were pulling at her shirt buttons, easing their way past her bra and tweaking her rapidly hardening nipples. She did her own exploring, wriggling her hand into his pants and grasping his hard cock.
Before long they were both naked. Simone silently thanked whatever fortuitous circumstances had caused everyone else to stay away. It was such a rare thing to be nude like this, completely exposed under the stars without a care as to who might be looking. Gavin lay on his back and beckoned her to him. They kissed again, skin against skin, his breath soft in her mouth. She imagined they were the only two people in the world, Adam and Eve, alone in the flickering light of the fire. “I want to taste you,” he said, licking his lips and smiling. Simone obliged, straddling his face and lowering her pulsing, wet pussy onto his mouth. She loved the idea of smothering him with her juices, of his whole world becoming her cunt. Explosions of pleasure blasted upwards through her body as he applied himself, swirling, licking and sucking at her folds and clit. Her orgasm was rapid, and immensely satisfying.
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