He stepped into the café just as I finished my meal. It was a little before three on a Wednesday afternoon, so there were only a few other customers besides us. I'd worked through my lunch break due to an unexpected mini-crisis at the office. By the time I got it resolved, I was famished and eager to escape my job for an hour.

The man sat at a table near mine. My gaze lingered on him while he removed his suit coat and draped it over the back of his chair. I guessed he was around thirty-five. He was clean-shaven, revealing a strong jaw, and I could discern his muscular frame beneath his shirt. I returned my attention to my paperback before the man caught me looking at him. As he ordered a coffee, I made a point to keep reading.

When the server came by my table to ask if I'd like anything else, I gave her a guilty smile. I was a regular at the café, so she knew I never ordered dessert. Today, however, I was still frazzled from the chaos that had arisen at work earlier, and I had the urge to soothe myself with something sweet. "Could I get a slice of chocolate cake?" I asked quietly. "The smallest slice you can bring me."

She gave me an understanding smile. "Of course, sweetie." I was only twenty-five, but I guessed the server was a few years younger. She was tall, with a lithe, athletic body. The exact opposite of me.

Already I was regretting my decision to order the cake. Just shy of two hundred pounds, I'd been struggling to lose weight for as long as I could remember. I counted calories; I watched the carbs. I eliminated all added sugar from my diet. Some nights I was so hungry, I went to bed early, comforted only by the knowledge that I'd be able to eat again when I woke the next morning. No matter what I did, I stayed the same weight, with no gain or loss for years as my body stubbornly held onto every pound.

My guilt only grew while I waited for the server to come back. Glancing around, I locked eyes with the man sitting near me. Before I could look away, he smiled. I didn't do well at hiding my surprise, for I wasn't used to attention of any kind from someone like him. Once I'd managed a weak smile of my own, I quickly averted my gaze.

If my best friend had been there, she would have told me I was being far too self-critical. "You have a beautiful face, Greer!" Sharon always said. "I'd give anything for that gorgeous, clear complexion of yours. And those blue eyes and full lips!" Like any good friend, Sharon focused on my positive traits. But the rest of the world didn't see me that way.

The server came back with a huge slice of cake. When she placed it before me, I tried not to cringe. "Wow, that's a big piece!"

She winked. "Hope you enjoy it."

Once she'd returned to the counter, I tucked a strand of my dark shoulder-length hair behind my ear. Just looking at the cake made my mouth water; it was as if I hadn't eaten a bite of the soup and salad I'd ordered for my late lunch. Taking a deep breath, I gathered up a forkful of the cake and brought it to my lips. That first bite was almost better than sex. The cake was so moist, the chocolate icing thick and creamy. I had to hold back a pleasured moan while telling myself I'd eat only a little more. I'd skip dinner to make up for this transgression.

The second bite of cake made me close my eyes as I savored the taste. Then I realized how pathetic I must appear. Nervously glancing around, I caught the man at the nearby table watching me. His lips were slightly parted, the coffee before him seemingly forgotten. His stare was so intense that I immediately blushed. When I dropped the fork, it clattered against the plate. My mouth had gone dry, making it hard for me to swallow. Grabbing my purse, I rummaged through it for some cash. I left far more than I owed for the meal, then gathered up my stuff and bolted for the door.

The server looked up at me in concern. "Everything okay?"

"Money's on the table," I told her without slowing. Once I was out on the sidewalk, I strode toward the office where I worked, which was just down the street. All the while, I was thankful I'd chosen to wear sensible flats with my blouse and slacks that day.

I heard someone push open the café door, but I didn't look to see who it was. Then a man's voice called, "Wait! I'm sorry!" My eyes widened in disbelief. It certainly sounded like the guy who'd sat near me and ordered coffee, and who'd stared at me like I was part of some sideshow at the circus. No way he'd be ballsy enough to chase me out onto the street! I heard him break into a run, gaining ground. A rush of fury surged through me, and I whirled around. The man obviously hadn't expected me to halt right in front of him, and he almost slammed into me. "What do you want?" I snapped. Even I was surprised at how vicious I sounded, for I always went out of my way to be pleasant to everyone.

The man held up his hands. "I just want to apologize," he said, breathing a little fast. "I'm so sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable before."

"You certainly did!" My voice continued to rise. "Don't you have any manners? You're not supposed to stare at people while they're eating. Especially fat people!"

He looked stricken by what I said. Running his fingers through his brown hair, he seemed helpless to find the right words. Then his dark green eyes filled with something like pleading. "I didn't mean to be impolite. It's just that I think you're absolutely gorgeous."

I gaped at him, incredulous. This man, who could be on the cover of GQ, seemed determined to hurt me, and I couldn't understand why. He must have thought I was an idiot, believing I'd buy his bullshit about being attracted to me. "You're an asshole!" I said through my teeth. "Is this how you spend your days? Making fun of women who look like me?"

"Christ, no!" His expression was so earnest, it made me question my anger for a moment. "Look, can we please start over? I'm Patrick. It's very nice to meet you." He held out his hand.

I almost walked away. Instead, I remained where I was, regarding him warily. When I finally took his hand, he flashed a relieved smile. "I'm Greer," I said.

"Greer, I want to make up for being rude in the café, and for chasing you out here like a lunatic. Can I please take you to dinner?" I immediately started shaking my head. "Please," he repeated. "I feel awful about the impression I made, but I hope you'll give me a chance to atone for my behavior."

I found myself fighting back a smile. Though I had no idea what this guy was up to, in my head I could hear Sharon urging me, "Go for it! What do you have to lose?" Releasing a mildly exasperated sigh, I said, "Fine."

Patrick's face lit up. Reaching for his wallet, he said, "I'm going to give you my business card. It has my number on it. Will you call me tonight? Please?"

I appreciated that he wasn't pushing me for my number, instead leaving that initial call up to me. "Okay." I tried to sound noncommittal while taking the card.

"I really hope I hear from you soon, Greer. Now I have to go pay for that coffee," he added with a sheepish grin.

I watched him turn and jog toward the café. Before going back inside, he smiled and waved. I looked down at his card, wondering if I'd actually have the nerve to call him.

*****

It turns out I did have the nerve. I wished I could talk to Sharon about the situation, but she was out of town for an important work conference, and I didn't want to bother her over something as trivial as a date. So I waited until later that evening, then steeled myself and called the number on Patrick's card.

He answered almost immediately. "Hi, it's Greer," I spoke in a rush.

"I'm so glad you called!" Patrick said. I could tell he was smiling. "I hope you don't mind, but I decided to think positive, and I already made dinner reservations for us tomorrow at seven." The restaurant he'd chosen was a local landmark. It had great food and a relaxed atmosphere, so patrons could wear anything from jeans to formal attire. "If that time doesn't work for you, I'll be happy to change it."

"Seven tomorrow sounds great." I couldn't help but feel relieved that Patrick had taken the initiative so I didn't have to choose the place for our date.

"So, did you have a good day?" he asked. "I mean, after some asshole ruined your lunch at the café."

I had to laugh at his self-deprecating humor. "The rest of my day was calm and quiet, just how I like it. And my evening is shaping up very well now."

"I'm very glad to hear that, Greer." His tone grew almost seductive, and despite my lingering uncertainty about this man, I felt a warmth low in my belly. The mere sound of his voice had ignited that little spark of lust. I wouldn't allow myself to stay on the phone with him long, however. Instead, I made an excuse about having more work to do that evening. "I can't wait to see you tomorrow," Patrick told me before we said goodbye. Again I was surprised by the way he made his attraction to me so evident. Part of me was secretly thrilled to be the object of his desire, but another part had been burned far too many times and remained guarded.

The rest of the night and the following day dragged on at an agonizing pace. Because I still suspected that Patrick was too good to be true, my skeptical side wanted seven o'clock to hurry up and arrive so I could simply get the date over with and move on. But when I finally left work and went home to get ready, I grew more and more nervous. During my shower, I kept telling myself this was a bad idea. I wondered if it was too late to cancel.

"Stop it, Greer!" I muttered to myself. "It's just dinner, for God's sake!"

A little later, I stood before the mirror, ignoring the fact that my hands were shaking as I styled my hair. I decided to sweep it back from my face. For my outfit, I'd chosen a black dress that flattered my body type, accentuating my D-cup breasts while having a slimming effect on my waist. Beneath the dress, I wore thigh-high stockings. My ankle-strap heels, also black, weren't exactly comfortable, but they'd be fine for one evening. I kept my makeup light and understated. Studying my reflection, I couldn't help but be pleased. Of course, I would have been far more pleased if I were fifty pounds lighter.

I decided to take an Uber to the restaurant. That way, if Patrick stood me up, or, even worse, our date turned into a disaster, I could at least have a few drinks at the bar to drown my disappointment. I ended up arriving a little early, but I found Patrick already waiting for me outside. The late spring air was warm and held a gentle breeze. With plenty of daylight left, Patrick quickly spotted me and closed the distance between us. "Greer, you look absolutely beautiful!" he said, drawing me into a quick hug.

"Thank you." I knew I was beaming at his words. "And you look fantastic in that suit." Patrick was clearly pleased by my compliment, and as we entered the restaurant, he slipped an arm around my waist. Once we were seated at a table, I had to stop myself from staring at him. After all, I'd told him the day before how rude it was to stare. But now that my anger had disappeared and I was actually on a date with the man, I allowed myself to fully grasp just how fucking gorgeous he was.

I decided to order a Sloe Gin Fizz, a drink I rarely permitted myself to enjoy because of the sugar it contained. "Maker's Mark, neat," Patrick said to our server, giving her a winning smile. After she'd left the table, he turned that smile on me. "I've never had a Sloe Gin Fizz."

"You can try mine. I normally stick with Pinot Noir, but I figured I'd live a little tonight."

"That's what I want to hear." Something about Patrick's gaze, and his voice, sent a surge of arousal through me. Fuck, I was getting wet just sitting across from him! I resolved to focus on the menu so I wouldn't be distracted by thoughts of how much I wanted to see him naked. When the server returned with our drinks a short time later, Patrick and I had both decided on dinner. I chose the crab cakes, while he ordered a sirloin.

Before I took a sip of my drink, I offered the glass to Patrick. He tried it, his expression curious. "Damn, that's good," he said. "Might have to get one of those next time." As we chatted, our conversation initially remained in platonic territory. We discussed our jobs and hobbies, and I was delighted to learn Patrick was something of a bookworm as well. He loved sci-fi novels, while I enjoyed reading fiction and nonfiction alike.

It was only when I took the first bite of my meal that I noticed Patrick gazing at me the way he had at the café. It was as if he couldn't help himself. "How is it?" he asked softly.

I struggled to maintain my pleasant expression as I said, "It's delicious. The remoulade sauce is out of this world." I noticed Patrick didn't touch his own food. Instead, he continued watching me, eager for me to take another bite. It was then that understanding washed over me like an icy wave. "Patrick," I said, and my curt tone snapped him out of his reverie. Leaning toward him, I lowered my voice so only he could hear. "Are you a feeder? You know, one of those men who are sexually excited by feeding a fat woman and watching her gain more and more weight?"

"No." His emphatic reply made it clear he knew exactly what I was talking about. "I have no interest in that, Greer. I don't want you to eat until you're stuffed, and I don't want you to try to gain weight."

"Good, because I'm definitely not doing that."

"That being said, you do have to eat." The heat returned to his stare once more. "And I take great pleasure in watching you do that."

I raised an eyebrow. "Even if I'm eating health food?" I knew there were men who got online and actually paid to watch fat women gorge themselves on food like pizza and ice cream. I doubted any of those men paid to see a woman like me nibble at a salad.

"Well, that would depend on how much pleasure you got from eating the health food," Patrick replied. "If you enjoy eating a carrot as much as you enjoy eating cake, then yes, I'd get sexual satisfaction from watching you eat the carrot."

"I hate carrots," I sighed.

He laughed and reached for my hand. Then his gaze grew tender. "I can only imagine how difficult it is to be a bigger woman in this culture." He gave my hand a gentle squeeze. "I just want you to be kind to yourself. And I want you to recognize the beauty I see every time I look at you."

I closed my eyes for a moment. It was my way of hiding from the emotion so plainly revealed in Patrick's face. I desperately wanted to believe him, but I still struggled with my doubts. Looking at him again, I said, "You tell me you're turned on by fat women, but you don't look like you have an ounce of fat on you. You're probably at the gym every day."

Patrick flashed a wry smile. "Big tits turn me on, too. Doesn't mean I want them for myself."

I let out an unflattering snort of laughter at that, but my next thought caused my grin to fade. "So, what happens if you and I start seeing each other, and your friends want to know why you're dating a fat chick?"

"Then they would no longer be my friends," Patrick said simply. "I've dated larger women in the past, Greer, but those relationships never worked out because of my... fetish." He fell silent for several seconds, appearing to consider something. "In fact, I don't think I've ever been with a woman who truly enjoyed food."

"I have issues with food, too," I pointed out.

"But when you took a bite of that chocolate cake yesterday, for a moment you allowed yourself to relish it. And seeing that was instantly arousing."

Knowing that Patrick had gotten turned on while watching me eat caused a blush to redden my cheeks. Before my own lust got the better of me, I decided to ask him one last question about his kink. "Does it excite you to see thin women eat?"

"Definitely not to the same extent," he revealed. "I mean, I also enjoy sleeping with thin women, but..."

"Not to the same extent," I finished with a grin.

"Exactly. Enjoyable as it is, I feel like something's missing. Something I need."

"So when I do this..." I took another bite of crab cake, then let out an appreciative moan. Patrick's stare was riveted to me while I ate; I noticed him breathing faster, and his face was a little flushed. "Does it excite you?" I murmured.

"God, yes!" he said. "You're so fucking sexy, Greer."

I had to duck my head to hide a delighted smile. "You haven't touched your food."

Though Patrick seemed reluctant to do anything that would take his attention from me, he began eating his steak. We continued getting to know each other better, and to his credit, he tried not to stare too much as I enjoyed my meal. Now that I understood his kink, I felt guilty for my behavior outside the café. "I'm sorry I got so angry with you yesterday," I said. "I've just been hurt too many times before, I guess."

His gaze softened. "I understand."

"Do you?" I asked quietly. "Because I've dated guys like you in the past. Granted, they weren't nearly as hot, but they all started out telling me how sexy they thought I was. Then, maybe a few weeks or even a few months later, it was less, 'You're really sexy, Greer,' and more, 'You'd be a lot sexier if you lost twenty, fifty, eighty pounds.'"

"I would never do that to you," Patrick insisted. "I know I have to earn your trust, so I've tried to be as upfront with you as possible. I'm not going to manipulate you or try to change you into someone you're not. I'm wildly attracted to the person you are right now."

Looking away so Patrick wouldn't see me blink back tears, I realized he had indeed earned my trust. And as my defenses crumbled, my desire for him only grew stronger. When I finished my meal a few minutes later, Patrick decided he was done as well. "Want to go back to my place?" he asked me in the low, deep voice that made me wet.

"Absolutely," I said without hesitation. He'd made it more than clear that he wanted me, and now I could hardly stop myself from reaching for him. After Patrick paid for the meal, we left the restaurant, his arm around me all the while. Outside, a fairly large group of men and women approached us on their way inside. I got the sense they were celebrating something. Patrick seemed mindless of them as he turned toward me. My eyes widened when he cupped my face in his hands and lowered his lips to mine. One of the men in the group let out a low whistle, prompting a woman to chide him.

I loved the feel of Patrick's mouth on mine. Our first kiss was slow and tender, the kind that made me want it to last forever. When we finally drew apart, I grinned up at him. He took my hand and led me to his car. After opening the passenger door for me, Patrick circled around to climb into the driver's seat. As soon as he was inside, I practically lunged toward him.

Our second kiss quickly grew hungry and demanding. He moaned while I slid my palm along his inner thigh, stopping just short of his groin. The moment our tongues touched, a tremor of hot lust coursed through my body.

Patrick guided my hand to his hardening cock, and I immediately started stroking him through his pants. "Greer," he whispered against my lips, "feel how excited you make me."

"Oh, I feel it," I whispered back, giving him a wicked smile. "I want to see it, too."

I managed to refrain from touching Patrick as he drove toward his apartment. At a stoplight, he placed a hand on my knee. It was almost as if we were already a couple, I thought. After our conversation in the restaurant, all the barriers between us had fallen, only to be replaced by a fervent longing. Though I was eager to get to Patrick's place, I asked him to stop at a supermarket on the way. "Do you want me to go inside with you?" he offered.

"No, I'll just be a minute." I planted a quick kiss on his lips, then opened the car door. Before I climbed out, I turned back to him. "You have plenty of condoms, right? If not, I can pick some up."

Patrick grinned even while his stare made me feel like he was mentally undressing me. "We're good to go on condoms, baby."

"Fantastic." I got out and strode toward the store as fast as my heels would allow. Once inside, I quickly located the items I was looking for, then went through the self-checkout.

I noticed Patrick curiously eyeing the bag when I got back into his car. "Care to show me what you bought?" In response, I opened the bag so he could see the can of whipped cream, along with a container of fresh sliced strawberries. The sight made him release a pleasured groan. When he looked up at me again, his expression was one of such abject lust that it got me soaking wet between my thighs. "Thank you so much for this, Greer."

I realized then how grateful he was to me for indulging his fetish. "No need to thank me," I said, my smile playful. "I'm going to love licking this whipped cream off your cock."

My words seemed to unleash a wild need in Patrick. I could sense he was struggling to keep his speed down as we drove toward his place. Once we finally arrived, neither of us spoke until he'd unlocked his apartment door and opened it for me to step inside. He'd left a small lamp on in the living room, and I looked around long enough to see that his apartment was surprisingly neat for a man who lived alone. "I love your place," I said.

"Thank you," he replied, then pulled me to him with a force that made me gasp. His mouth was hard and demanding on mine. As his lips traveled along the length of my neck, he said, "I feel like I should be polite and show you around."

"I just want to see the bedroom right now." I held onto the grocery bag while Patrick led me down the hall. In moments, he'd turned on another lamp, this one beside his perfectly made bed. He waited just long enough for me to place the whipped cream and strawberries on the table. Then he drew me into his arms. His hands were all over me, caressing my hips and squeezing my ass. Again we kissed as he slid his palms over my belly. He made no attempt to hide how much he loved the feel of my body. By the time he cupped my breasts, my nipples were hard, begging to be touched.

Though I noticed Patrick trembling a little from his excitement, he didn't hurry while undressing me. For the first time in my life, I stood half-naked before a man and felt no urge to cover myself. He began breathing faster as I reached behind me to unclasp my black bra. Once I removed it, Patrick gathered my breasts in his hands. "You're so fucking gorgeous," he murmured. My tits were big enough for him to easily press them together until my nipples touched. My areolas were a pale pink, while the nipples themselves were a deeper rose color. Lowering his head, he circled his lips around both peaks, lashing them with his tongue. I let out a lust-filled moan as I wove my fingers through his hair. Patrick's mouth made eager suckling noises, as if he couldn't get enough of my tits.

I was now so wet, the crotch of my panties was saturated. "I want you to get undressed for me," I told Patrick, my voice quaking a bit. When he began unbuttoning his shirt, I leaned against the bed for balance as I took off the strappy heels. Then I turned my back to him so he could get a nice view of my curvy ass while I removed my underwear. Patrick seemed to be a fan of the thigh-high stockings, so I left those on.

"I'm so hard for you, Greer." His words came out as a kind of growl. I sensed him draw closer, but I didn't give him a chance to touch me. Instead, I sat on the edge of his bed and spread my legs, letting him see my shaved pussy. "Fuck, I love how wet you are!"

When I teased him by parting my outer lips to reveal my slick inner folds, he set about stripping in record time. I thought about telling him to slow down so I could enjoy the show, but I was just as horny as he was. As more of his bare skin was exposed to my view, I discovered he had sparse chest hair, which only served to accentuate his strong pecs. The sight of his gorgeous body made me circle a fingertip around my clit. Patrick fixed his stare on my hand working between my thighs.

In moments, he was completely naked, his cock straining out from him. It was average in size, the entire length taking on a deep pink hue while erect. And because it belonged to him, I thought it was the most gorgeous cock I'd ever seen. I found he was shaved smooth, which was perfect for my plan involving the whipped cream.

He leaned forward to give me a kiss, his mouth soft and gentle. He wouldn't be rushed while his tongue sought out mine. I reached between us, reveling in that first feel of his cock in my hand. Patrick's moan was muffled by our kiss. His lips moved lower, revisiting each of my nipples. A faint whimper escaped me as he suckled them.

He sank to his knees before me, then slid his hands along my thighs and around my hips so he could caress my ass. As he planted kisses on my belly, my breath caught in my throat. I'd never allowed a man to do that before, but I found I loved it. When Patrick's lips brushed against my plump mound, I released my held breath as a sigh. Now he was the one spreading my outer labia apart, his mouth only inches from my folds. "Your beautiful clit is so swollen," he murmured.

"It's really sensitive."

Patrick's eyes met mine. "So I should use a light touch... like this." His fingertip, gentle against my clit, provided just the stimulation I needed.

"That feels so good!" I watched as he extended his tongue and ever so lightly swept it over that sensitive bud. The sensation made me thrust my hips forward, revealing my need for more. With a grin, Patrick rewarded me by burying his face between my thighs. While sliding his palms over my stockings, he put his tongue to work pleasuring me. Each lick sent a current of bliss straight to my core. My God, this man knew his way around a pussy! When he sensed I was getting too much direct stimulation, he began circling my clit, his tongue grazing the sides and teasing my hood.

"Oh, fuck yes!" I moaned, grasping handfuls of his hair. "Keep licking me just like that!" The sound of his lips and tongue had my pussy clenching rhythmically, as if his cock was already inside me. Patrick seemed to understand my need, for he slipped a finger into my opening. I cried out his name, my hips moving faster as I grew closer to orgasm. When he used a little more pressure, his tongue working at a fervent pace, I started to shake. "I'm almost there!" I basked in a kind of sensual delirium, brought on by Patrick's wet mouth and warm breath, and the exquisite pleasure his tongue gave me. As he feasted on my pussy, he made contented sounds from low in his throat.

The moment he wrapped his lips around my clit and applied the slightest amount of suction, I came so fucking hard, I collapsed back against the bed! I wasn't a screamer during orgasm; instead, I released guttural moans as my body shuddered. His tongue slowed but didn't stop, coaxing forth another wave of contractions.

Even after my climax subsided, it took me a minute to lift my head. While I recovered, Patrick kissed and sucked my puffy outer labia. I felt the sensual glide of his tongue along my inner thigh. Once my muscles no longer felt as though they were made of rubber, I propped myself up on my elbows. "Holy shit, no one's ever made me come that hard!" I blurted out.

He flashed a pleased grin. His hair was mussed, and his lips were wet with my juices. "I'll be happy to do that all night."

"Next time. Right now, I want you in this bed with me."

He quickly climbed to his feet. In moments, we lay side by side, sharing another kiss. Then I reached for the whipped cream and strawberries. As Patrick turned onto his back, his gaze filled with anticipation. Kneeling at his side, I couldn't suppress a playful giggle. I never dreamed I'd be in a gorgeous man's bed, making a trail of strawberries down the length of his chest and belly, but that's exactly what I set about doing. Patrick fixed his hot stare on my hands strategically lining up the fruit on his body.

Though my hair was tousled and coming loose from the clip holding it back, Patrick still had a clear view of my face when I leaned forward, using my mouth to gather up the strawberry I'd placed on his chest. He was so excited, his chest rapidly rose and fell beneath my lips. I made a point to look up at him while I ate the fruit. "Mmm, this is delicious. So sweet and juicy!" When Patrick moaned, the sound bordered on a whimper. I continued making my way down his body, slowly eating each strawberry.

"Christ, you've got me so excited!" he said.

I understood then just how powerful it was, to satisfy someone's deepest kink. Especially when no one else ever could. The sight of Patrick so wild for me made my clit start throbbing again. When I gathered up the last sliver of strawberry, I brought my lips achingly close to his hard cock, but I didn't yet touch it. Instead, I picked up the can of whipped cream. My eyes met Patrick's, and he eagerly nodded. "Let me see your tongue," I told him. Immediately he obeyed. I grinned while covering the tip of his tongue with the cream. Then I lowered my mouth to his so I could suck it off. He placed a hand on the back of my head and kissed me hard, the taste of sweet cream lingering between our lips.

My grin widened as I covered each of Patrick's nipples. When I began licking and sucking them clean, he gave an involuntary thrust of his hips. Of course, he knew exactly where I was going with this play, and I loved seeing his excitement build. Finally, I knelt between his spread legs, giving his dick a long, appreciative stare. Then I circled its base with whipped cream.

"Oh fuck!" He propped himself up in order to easily see me. "Greer, if you do this, I'm afraid I'm not going to last."

That's okay," I assured him with a wink. "I like the taste of sweet and salty together."

His eyes widened a little as he grasped my meaning. Then he shook his head in astonishment. "I never thought I'd be lucky enough to find a woman like you. You're perfect!"

I wondered if he knew the effect his words had on me. So many times, I'd been made to feel less than, not good enough. Now Patrick, perfect in his own right, was the first to make me feel truly desired. A delighted smile formed on my lips as I lowered my mouth to his groin. I began licking up the cream, making plenty of enthusiastic sounds so he'd know how much I enjoyed it.

"Baby!" he groaned. His dick pulsed, seeming to beg for my mouth's attention. Still, I made him wait. After making sure I hadn't left a trace of whipped cream behind, I squirted more out onto his sack. I heard his sharp intake of breath. With my fingers wrapped around the base of his cock, I learned just how fun it was to lick and suck cream off a man's balls, taking each one between my lips in the process.

"This is the best dessert I've ever had!" I told him.

His face flushed with the heat of his arousal. "Please!" he begged. I didn't know if he wanted more, or if he longed for a break to try to get his lust under control. Rather than stop, I lined the underside of his dick with cream. That got his pre-cum readily flowing, and he began breathing so hard, it sounded like he was running a marathon. I slowly ran my tongue along his shaft, licking him clean. I ended up getting cream on my chin and lips, as well as the tip of my nose. Knowing I was a complete mess made me laugh, but the sight of my face only fueled Patrick's excitement.

When I finally reached the head of his cock, I licked up the last of the cream, then satisfied myself by lapping at his pre-cum. "I'm really close!" he warned, his voice strained from his effort to hold back. In response, I circled my lips around his tip. As I gently sucked, my tongue swirled over his skin. I delighted in the feel of him growing even harder in my mouth.

The moment I took him deeper, he released a fierce cry. I felt his body tense just before he came. When the first spurt of semen struck the back of my throat, I quickly swallowed it, knowing it would soon be replaced by more. Hot, salty cum filled my mouth and threatened to spill from my lips. I felt a surge of triumph when I managed to get it all down, not wasting a drop.

Patrick was still trembling a little as I lifted my head. The look he gave me was stricken. "I normally last much longer than that, I promise!"

I grinned, moving to lie beside him. "I loved being able to excite you so much."

"Thank you," he whispered. The deep kiss he gave me made it clear he didn't shy away from the taste of his own cum. "We should probably go get cleaned up, but if you'd like to keep playing, it won't take me long to be ready for you again."

"Sounds perfect." I followed Patrick to the bathroom, where the urge to relieve myself became pressing. "I'm just gonna pee really quick," I told him.

"Do you want me to give you some privacy? I can wash up in the half bath."

"You don't have to go. Unless you want to."

Patrick gave me a sweet smile, then shook his head. I noticed he was ever the gentleman, not sneaking so much as a glance at me while I emptied my bladder. I was not as well behaved, however. The sight of him running a wet cloth over his bare skin rekindled my lust, and I couldn't help but stare. It was only when I was washing my hands at the sink that I caught sight of my reflection. "Holy shit!" I said through my laughter. The whipped cream was still all over my face. "You just let me walk around here looking like this?"

Patrick wrapped his arms around me, flashing his own grin. "I love it." His lips nuzzled my neck.

"All the same, I think I'd better do some washing up, too." Leaning forward, I splashed cold water on my face. He offered me a clean towel when I was finished. Another glimpse in the mirror showed me how messy my hair was, and I took the clip from it, letting it fall free. At least I hadn't gotten whipped cream in it.

Patrick stood behind me, and I leaned into his embrace. Our stares met in the mirror as he cupped my breasts, playing with my nipples. The feel of his erection against my skin had me instantly wet again. "I want you to fuck me," I whispered.

We didn't speak on our way back to bed, for we were too busy kissing and stroking each other. As I rested my head on the pillow, I watched Patrick take a condom from the bedside table drawer. The sight of him sheathing his cock made me ache with need. When he knelt between my thighs, his eyes took on a feral look, yet he remained tender while sliding his tip from my clit to my entrance. "I want you so much," he murmured. Then he eased inside me.

The sensation of my pussy yielding to his cock made us both moan. He was careful at first, his thrusts slow and gentle. "Yes!" I cried, urging him on. "I love the way you feel inside me!" His grip on my thighs tightened a little, betraying his excitement. Simply watching Patrick move sent a pre-orgasmic tremor through me. But it wasn't just his body, as glorious as it was. It was also the sounds he made when his hips began pumping at a more fervent pace. It was his scent, which I greedily inhaled. And of course, it was the feel of his cock claiming my pussy. Patrick seemed enraptured by the way my breasts and belly bounced as he drove himself into me with a fierce rhythm. "Fuck yes!" I growled. "Give it to me hard!"

He was more than willing to do as I demanded. His breaths grew shallow while he pounded my pussy, his balls slapping against me. "Goddamn, you're tight around my cock!" he said. Each thrust built on the intensity of the one before until I was shaking, desperate to come. "Ah, you're close, aren't you, Greer?"

"Yes!" I wailed.

Sliding a hand between my thighs, Patrick rubbed my clit with the pad of his thumb. That was all it took to send me over the edge. My climax was so powerful, I could only release a choked cry as my muscles strained and my pussy contracted around his cock. He let out a whimper but managed to last, just as he'd promised.

I was slow to come down from the orgasm, trembling in Patrick's grip. His lust felt like a palpable force between us. My eyes grew pleading while I stared up at him, but he seemed perfectly capable of fucking me until I begged for mercy. Finally, I reached for the can of whipped cream, and I heard him gasp as I squirted some onto my nipples. Flashing a wicked grin, I took my right breast in both hands and brought my nipple to my lips.

I sucked and licked my own nipple, moaning as I gathered the whipped cream on my tongue. All the while, I locked eyes with Patrick. His thrusts grew spasmodic, revealing just how close he was to orgasm. A layer of sweat had formed on his skin, and he was now flushed and panting. The sight of me sucking my left nipple proved to be more than he could bear. "Fuck!" he groaned. "Gonna come for you, baby!"

I let my nipple fall from my lips, then pressed my tits firmly together. "Yes, yes, come!" I begged.

I loved the way Patrick gasped and shuddered, completely surrendering to his lust before he climaxed with a roar. He was still trembling and trying to catch his breath when he slid his palm over my belly for a final caress. Then he took hold of his cock and carefully pulled out.

Once Patrick had thrown the condom in the trash, he lay at my side, drawing me into his arms. I nestled against his hot skin, satisfied beyond words. Gazing up at him, I said, "I'm so glad I decided to order that slice of chocolate cake at the café."

"You and me both, sweetheart," Patrick replied with a tender smile, then lowered his mouth to mine. Our kiss was like the first we'd shared outside the restaurant, slow and sensual. His lips traveled lower, lingering at my neck on their way to my breasts. "Promise you'll let me know if you decide you want any more of that cake?"

A pleasured sigh escaped me as he took my nipple in his mouth. "I promise you can watch me eat every bite."