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Penelope shimmied out of her dress and lacy bra as soon as they returned to their flat.
Colin jiggled her breast in his palm, watching her flesh bounce with rather adorable scrutiny.
"How can they be this soft?" he wondered aloud, marvelling at her chest in the same gobsmacked manner he always did.
Penelope giggled.
The little smirk on his face deepened into a pleased smile. He looked so handsome in his smart slacks and nice polo, the outfit she'd chosen for him to wear out for his birthday dinner. Her heart still skipped a beat sometimes when she turned her head and caught sight of him. Old habits die hard.
Colin bent forward and captured the tip of the tit he'd been playing with into his mouth, enveloping it into wet warmth. The delicate skin around her nipple pebbled, and Penelope sighed as she sank her fingers into his lovely brown hair.
"Do you think," said Colin, licking delicately around the side of her breast, "You could—," He gave a little suck, "Cum just from this?"
"I—maybe," said Penelope, her back arching as he sucked a little harder.
He was far too good with his mouth. Colin with his glib, charmer's tongue, talking his way not only into her heart but also into her pants. Penelope had always known he liked eating and was a foodie, but it wasn't until after they'd officially gotten together had she discovered he liked putting a lot of other things into his mouth, too.
Her tits, for one: they were his very favourite.
Second to that was her pussy; she knew she was a very lucky woman, indeed. Most of her previous boyfriends had only eaten her out to return the favour, or performed it as if it were an obligation. Some hadn't bothered at all.
Colin always wanted to eat her out. Tonight was no different.
"An hour of eating honey and marmalade off your tits, only your tits. That's what I want for my birthday."
What Colin wanted, Colin got.
The three containers of his favourite sticky sweet condiments sitting in a neat little row on the living room table were proof of that.
She watched as he dipped his fingers into the first little pot of honey and reapplied a thick, sticky layer to her nipple. He dragged his fingers across her chest, leaving a string of golden syrup in his wake. Her other nipple was given the same, thorough treatment, his thumb and forefinger rolling the perky tip with the perfect amount of pressure.
Then he lifted his fingers to her lips, seeking entrance, and she sucked the honey off them, sweetness bursting over her tongue.
"It tastes better this way," he murmured. "Doesn't it?"
Penelope was beginning to think he had a point. He kept his fingers in her mouth as he leaned down and began to feast on her nipples again. Her moans were muffled as he swirled his tongue around the tip of one, the raspy feel of him making her twitch; she wondered if her own tongue felt like that to him. How many nerve endings were there in a fingertip? She considered this as she sucked on his thumb, thinking it could not be more than the number of nerve endings in a nipple.
Her own were hard, aching peaks now, shiny with honey and spit. Colin sucked and nipped and tugged on them, lavishing them with attention. She was so wet she could feel her panties sticking to her skin.
He probably could make her cum like this. She was already wet enough for him to slide right into her without resistance, and he'd barely begun his feast. Only ten minutes or so had passed since she'd pulled off her top and plopped into his lap.
Speaking of his lap—"Could you sit on me?" he asked, releasing her nipple to press a kiss to the inside of her breast.
She knew what he meant, and nodded her assent.
Together they pulled off the scrap of lace that Penelope had paid a pretty penny for, and then she was straddling him on the sofa, her fingers nimbly unzipping his trousers and pulling his cock free. Colin cupped her breasts and pushed them together, attempting to suckle both at once, making Pen giggle again.
She positioned his cock at her opening, and slid him home, hot and hard, gasping slightly at that familiar, delicious stretch. He was big enough for it to be a stretch no matter how well-prepared she was, but her cunt was wet enough for it to be a smooth penetration regardless.
Penelope sank down until he was fully sheathed inside her.
"Tight as always," he murmured around a mouthful of nipple.
Pen returned the teasing remark with her own: "Big as always."
"Perfect fit," he quipped, and returned his attention to his task at hand. "Stay still, babe."
She obliged, as it was his birthday. If he wanted her to sit on his cock for the better part of an hour while he licked and sucked—and bit—her nipples, so be it. Who was she to deny him?
Having his cock inside her felt so good, she didn't mind. Maybe later, after he made her cum, he would let her ride him until he came too. She loved it when he bounced her on his cock, it was always so deep when she sat on him like this, the angle allowing for complete penetration.
Colin sank his teeth into the fleshy inside of her breast, making her moan. He ran his tongue over the bite, soothing it with his tongue.
"Pass me the jam," he told her. The honey pot was empty, he’d finished it.
Penelope reached behind her, feeling for it. Her fingers closed around the small jar, and she brought it to him. He took it from her, and unscrewed the lid. It was apricot, Colin’s favourite.
"Spread some on your nipples for me," he said. She did as she was told, dipping her finger into the pot and scooping out enough jam to smear it over her right nipple.
"More." He traced her areola with his fingertip, and when Pen slathered on some more jam, he instructed her to pinch her coated nipple with her sticky fingers.
He suckled it off her breasts with tenderness, making sure to clean every last bit of jam from her skin before instructing her to repeat the process.
It wasn’t a big jar, but it seemed to last forever, and Penelope wasn’t sure she could stand much more of this. Her breasts were tingling, completely oversensitized, and Colin’s tongue began to feel uncomfortably raspy against her delicate skin. When he released her nipples from his mouth, they were raw and achy.
Colin rested his chin on her shoulder, giving her brief respite. Very brief, as he said right after, “Clotted cream next.”
By the time he was done with the clotted cream—Penelope was clenching at regular intervals around his stiff cock and squirming in his lap.
“Stop fidgeting,” he said into her ear, tracing circles over both her nipples.
Then he pinched them, in tandem, and tugged on the peaks, hard enough to lift her breasts and let them bounce as he let go. She moaned his name, and then she was cumming, her breasts tingling from the constant stimulation, her slick cunt convulsing around Colin’s cock as she whimpered into his neck.
"That's my girl," he praised, brushing her hair from her face and pressing soft kisses to her throat and cheeks. His eyes were dark, pupils dilated from arousal, but they twinkled in the way that she adored the most from him—with happiness.
"Love you," she murmured against his jaw, right before she sought out his lips for a kiss. “Happy birthday.”