Chapter 55: Cherries Plucked! (R-18)
Adrei didn’t hesitate for a beat as she kneaded, crawled, coiled, sunk, pulled, and circled the pillow. Demond leaned into her touch as her hat fell, her white-haired back an arcing bowstring that never stopped backwards for the intruder, each inch of the fabric an unbearable barrier that seperated her peeking cherries and her lover’s warmth, yet the clothed shaping and reshaping in the middle of an alleyway brew a cauldron of absolute embarrassment and excitement, her caverns telling the tales of raggard edges from rainfalls, each tickly fibre coursing its own pulse against a smaller fabric.
"Adrei...Adrei..."
The Dragon Queen groaned, instinct as the tyrant’s daughter kicking in before her palm’s caretaking. the sinking garden that that begged for the cherries plucked, and her wife’s teary eyes above redness that dared her flames to quench, the sensory overload crashed in her vein as she clashed her lips onto Demond, biting, pulling, licking, pushing, each tilt of a head spoke of a different angle a canivorous beast seeked to devour her sheep, each grasp of the pillowed garden tainted a future of promises for more.
The smacking sound of lips and the occasional calling for her name fuelled Demond with a further heated daringness, as her palm stretched to latch onto Adrei’s own pillow. Groaning at her wife’s activeness, she pushed into her touch as her kneading slowly subsided, each agonising slowness rewarded a disappointed gasp from her wife that begged for more, before with one final knead, her finger darted for the cherry, and finally plucked its root.
The slight yelp from Demond allowed gap between her mouth as Adrei’s tongue happily slipped into her sweetness, her finger now circling the little cherry stubbornly rooted in the garden. The swift stroke, tickle, pull, knead, pluck buckled Demond’s hips in an endless rythme against the wall, her own palm grasping with firm strength yet the caverns screamed for her to give in and became a doll that spilled a pool of rainwater.
Adrei’s smirked as her own hips slightly curved to allow her sheep what little autnomy she would give, her tongue reaching in every corners of the witch’s mouth, a dart board where only she has her turn for the witch’s tongue shuddering to meet each intrusion, the cherry plucked and tickled as it plused along with her heartbeat..
Adrei hissed with the push and pull that would not satified the hollowness, as with one more plucking that sent Demond into a silent scream, her tongue exploring every last inches of the sweet saliva, before her figure pulled away, as Demond disappointedly whine, her unsatisfied body cruling into itself, as if her feeble arms would prevent the thousand ants crawling away at her skin, all for their quests for the cherry they must pull.
Her husband, however, pulled Demond apart the wall and turning her around, before her palms cupped her pillows once again, this time with a softer, tender touch that tickled away Demond’s icy ember. The witch gaaped as her hips twirled along with the palms, a bizarre dance of heat like a young puppet eager to please her master. Chuckling at her cuteness, Adrei merely lent out her tongue, before the gasping dancer blinked, as her tongue slid against her husband’s, before colliding and molding each other’s tongue, honeyed tricklets with each stroke as her kneaded garden of cherries threatened to drip sweet nectars themsevles.
Yet the rhythm was slow and painful, each ache of the witch’s dance reminded of a sensation that could have been, each glide over her tongue a glazer of fire against icy tremours, unmelting of the iced purity that was desperated to be stained more by Adrei’s color. With one more stroke on her pillow, Adrei glid across her tongue’s head as the witch tilted against little explorer, as she meweled with a sudden sense of freshness, as Adrei slid her robes’ collar to reveal her right shoulder, before she tore it down to reveal her left bareness.