19
The Power of the Whirlwind
Walking into Eastlyn’s kitchen, I stop, seeing one of my favourite sights on this earth. Eastlyn is standing at the counter, mixing bowls scattered around her, a spatula in her hand. Only this time, she’s wearing my blue button-down shirt—the one I wore to work yesterday—and what I’m hoping is nothing else.
“I leave you for a minute and chaos ensues,” I say, standing beside her, taking in one of Katie’s cake creations. A mop. I can’t hide my laughter.
“Hey, you smell yummy,” she says, placing the spatula down, turning to face me and pull me down towards her. She sniffs, then kisses me softly.
“I really need to remember to bring over some of my own soap,” I grin, knowing I smell as sweet as she does, having had to use her girlie soap again this morning.
“You just missed my mom,” Eastlyn shares, picking up the spatula again. She’s busy frosting the cake with her sprinkle-filled concoction, the cake she’d asked her mom to make for Mr. Whittaker’s retirement party tonight.
“I hope you told her hello from me. And I hope you both realize Rose isn’t going to be very happy at all with you bringing Hank this huge-ass cake tonight,” I warn, laughing at how much the man sings my girl’s and her mother’s cake praises despite his wife’s constant complaints about his diabetes.
“Nah, I asked Mom to use sweetener instead of regular sugar, so the only real issue is the Whirlwind itself, but I won’t tell if you don’t,” she says, winking, and I laugh at how cute she is.
“Baby, isn’t that kind of counterproductive?” I tap her nose, taking in her face as she contemplates my words. That’s when I see the huge glob of frosting resting on the front of my shirt, and an idea hits. The best thing about sploshing, I’ve come to learn over the last few months, is how fucking yummy anything tastes when you’re eating it off the woman you love.
“Looks like you’ve got a bit of a mess happening here,” I say, my eyes honing in on her chest where the delectable glob of white frosting with colourful specks is resting above one succulently heavy breast. One I can tell from being under my scrutiny isn’t covered by a bra.
“Oh, crap. I didn’t even notice.” She moves to clean it and I stop her, taking her hand in mine.
“No. Leave it for now. Unbutton your shirt, Sprinkles,” I tell her, my voice gravelly and determined. She nods, and does what I ask. Moving my hand up, I part the blue material over her left breast, licking my bottom lip. Her perfect pink nipple hardens under my stare and the air as it kisses her gorgeous skin. “So perfect.” I roll the extended nub between my thumb and forefinger. Eastlyn’s head lolls back with my touch. “Always so responsive, always so sexy.” I lean in, running my tongue over her heavy breast.
“Shit, your mouth feels good,” she pants, looking down at me where my mouth is now wrapped around her nipple, sucking it and nibbling it with my teeth. She hisses, and I release her with a pop.
“Now. How about you clean up that frosting?” I ask. “Put it on your finger for me, Eastlyn,” I command, and she complies. She’s about to bring her index finger up to her own mouth, but I stop her again. “No, baby. I want a little taste. Rub it on your tits, put it on those delicious nipples for me,” I say, opening the shirt up, fully exposing both of her gorgeous tits. Watching her readying herself for me is extremely hot. “Are you wet for me now, Eastlyn?”
“God, yes,” she says, circling her nipples, coating them in white frosting, her voice a little unsteady. A few blue and yellow sprinkles peek out from the mix, begging my mouth to taste them. My lips descend, blowing warm breath first on one breast then the other. Alternating, I take each one in my mouth and swirl my tongue over each bud, lapping up the candy, then use it’s hard texture and the tip of my tongue to roll the sweet pieces over each nipple, driving her wild with the smooth and rough texture the Whirlwind creates. I lick her clean. I swear she’s about to come, but then she shifts her weight, drops to her knees, and pulls my black gym shorts down, springing my hard-as-nails cock free.
“Now, Mr. Graves, let’s say it’s my turn.” She looks up at me, darting her tongue over the head of my cock, tasting the bit of noticeable pre-come. “Mmm, you taste so good already, but I’d like my cake a little bit sweeter,” she shrugs, before reaching up to dip her hand in the bowl of frosting then bringing it back down, covering my length in it. As she slides her hand up and down my shaft, I groan as I watch her spreading the frosting, coating me in the sticky sweet goodness of the Whirlwind, the tiny sprinkles adding to the incredible sensation. “Jesus, that feels so good,” I sigh.
“Just imagine how good it will taste,” she says, taking in her handiwork with a sexy-ass grin.
“Why don’t you stick it in your mouth and find out?” I huff, on the cusp of losing my goddamn mind. Eastlyn Hatfield on her knees with those fucking tits on display—and her all ready and willing to suck my cock—is a sight, in and of itself. Add in her sassy little moans, the ones I know she’ll make when she’s deep throating me, and I already know she’ll have me going off like a lit firework in no time.
But rather than taking me into her mouth like I suggest, she starts softly, kissing the head with those supple lips of hers, making simple circles over and over again, sampling her frosted creation as she finally sucks the tip of my cock while cupping my balls in her sticky hands. I move forward, wanting more, but I know she won’t give me what I want, not just yet.
Moving down to the base of my cock, she uses her lips to squeeze and caress along my length, lapping the frosting as she goes from base to tip with her tongue. Frosting coats her mouth and chin as she becomes more determined in her movements. It’s fucking hot, and I reach down, pulling at her nipple, needing to feel her.
“So good. Mmm…you taste like heaven,” she tells me, glancing at me, then licks the tip and wraps her mouth around my swollen head. With one hand on my shaft and the other still cupping my balls, she begins to deep throat me, in and out, swirling her tongue, moving the sprinkles which feel like champagne bubbles popping up and down my length, massaging my cock with her mouth as her hand jerks me up and down. Leaning forward, I grip the countertop to support myself as I feel my knees going weak. She hollows her cheeks, taking me in further and deeper, sucking me off until I feel the head bumping into the back of her throat.
“That’s it, baby. Take all of me. Yeah, suck it. God, just like that.” Instinctively, my hands move off the counter to grab the back of her head, helping to move her the way I need to get myself there. Gripping my ass in her palms, Eastlyn bobs me in and out a few more times before taking me back in all the way, then pausing before applying the perfect amount of suction with her mouth.
“Oh shit, I’m going to come, baby. I’m going to fucking come,” I holler, and I feel her wrapping her hand around my length as she continues to suck me off—until I can’t take it anymore and I explode on a shudder, releasing myself down her throat.
“Holy shit…that was amazing,” I growl, reaching down and helping her to stand.
“I don’t call it the Whirlwind for nothing,” she giggles, wiping the sleeve of the shirt she’s now barely wearing across her mouth in an exaggerated motion.
“Can’t say I blame Mr. Whittaker for being willing to risk his health. That shit really is incredible,” I say, leaning down and licking one last bit of vanilla frosting she had missed from the corner of her mouth. “So fucking good, baby. I want inside you.” I grab her ass and pull her in close.
“Nope. You’re going to have to wait,” she says, looking at the clock. “We both need a shower now and I have to finish this or else we’re going to be late, as usual.” She gives me a look, seeing as this isn’t the first time we’ve been late recently.
“Not my fault you can’t keep your hands off of me,” I say. I swat her ass before taking the stool across from her and watch—still a little bit in awe—as she washes her hands and finishes frosting Mr. Whittaker’s mop cake.
The knowledge that I’ll be eating any leftovers off her sexy ass later tonight is enough to tide me over. Especially when I see her give me a sexy smirk when putting a small container of extra frosting in the fridge.
Fuck me, my Sprinkles is such a great enabler for my new habit: her.