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The first kiss had been full of passion and repressed wants and needs. The Fount of Knowledge had practically devoured every noise of shock and pleasure his Prophet had made.
When he pulled back, her eyes were blown wide, she was panting heavily, and her lips were slightly wet and puffy.
The Fount of Knowledge blinked in shock at his actions. "I —," he exhaled, then shook his head, "I am so sorry, Miss Vanilla, I don't know what —,"
But then Pure Vanilla curled her fists around his vestments and pulled him back down for another kiss.
Their second kiss was gentler, more explorative than explosive. The Fount's hands fell to Pure Vanilla's curvy hips, and her hands crept up to hold his shoulders. He had to bend over and she was on her tip toes just so they could kiss.
Then, one of Pure Vanilla's delicate hands reached up and curled into the curls at the base of his neck. She held him still, then turned her head and opened her mouth into the kiss.
Almost immediately, The Fount stuck his tongue into her mouth. He pushed her tongue out of the way and explored her tiny teeth, breathing heavily through his nose as he swallowed every taste of her.
Pure Vanilla's hand in his hair curled around his curls tighter, and she tried to stretch up on her tip toes even more to be closer to him.
Once he had his fill of her mouth, he began to pull back, but Pure Vanilla kept him in place and pressed her tongue into his mouth.
The Fount let out something between a whimper and a moan as her tongue explored his mouth the way he'd explored hers.
The unfortunate need for air is what got them to pull apart again.
The Fount stared at his Prophet.
And she stared right back at him.
And Virtue be damned, he wanted more of her. Wordlessly, he bent down and scooped her up into his arms so that she was forced to wrap her legs around his waist so she wouldn't fall. She gasped at the sudden loss of flooring under her feet, but settled nicely on his hip.
Perfectly shaped for him.
He opened a portal straight to his room and flew straight to his bed. He didn't use it often, but it was clean and it would do for what he wanted to do to his Prophet. He laid them both down on the bed, his larger body caging her smaller one to the mattress, and kissed her again.
Pure Vanilla tightened her legs around his waist and he realized he was perfectly poised between her legs to —
Pure Vanilla moaned into his mouth as he grinded their hips together.
He wanted to hear more of those delicious sounds. He wanted to devour them all!
He pulled back to breathe.
Pure Vanilla looked absolutely angelic underneath him, her long corn silk hair splayed around her like a halo, her chest heavy with every breath, eyes half-lidded with something he couldn't name (yet).
"I," The Fount panted, then he leaned down and nuzzled her neck, silently cursing her for wearing such heavy vestments, "I would very much like to..." he pressed more of his body down onto hers and hoped she felt what he was feeling, "To," why was he suddenly so nervous. He wasn't meant to feel nervous (he wasn't meant to feel anything, but the hard throbbing under his robe must've pulled all the jam from his brain because nothing was making any sense anymore).
Pure Vanilla, sweet and perfect Pure Vanilla, understood him immediately and she nodded quickly, "I — I would like to as well." She said.
"Really??" The Fount pulled back and looked down at her in shock.
He hadn't been expecting it to be so easy. So simple.
"Mhm." Pure Vanilla bit her lip and burned a brilliant shade of strawberry.
"I," The Fount swallowed, his mouth dry, "I've never...I mean, I know how, but as for actually doing it, I've never..." he shook his head.
Pure Vanilla shook her head and reached up to hold his head in her hands, "It's okay...I haven't either."
The Fount's heart dropped into his stomach, "You haven't? S-surely a young woman as beautiful as you..?" He trailed off as she continued to shake her head. He nuzzled one of her warm palms.
"I was always too busy...and time just...kept moving. But you..?" She looked at him, not with pity, but with a shy and quiet kind of curiosity, "You are so wonderful and attentive and handsome, surely there must've been one other cookie who..?" It was her to turn trail off as he shook his head and kissed one of her palms.
"No." He said softly, "No other cookie has ensnared my emotions so thoroughly." He kissed her wrist and let her sleeve fall back up her arm as he moved her free hand to rest on his thigh. "No other cookie has captured my attention, my trust." He kissed up her arm until he got to her elbow, then he dropped her arm and grinded their hips together once more. "Not until you came along did I even think myself capable of thinking such things." He nuzzled her neck again, and this time he began to press needy kisses into what dough he could find, "But you?" He breathed as he felt her writhe underneath him, "You so thoroughly entranced me. I want you, Miss Pure Vanilla Cookie. I want all of you, a-and I hope," His kisses became more desperate, "I hope that you will accept all of me in return."
Pure Vanilla whined, "It - it's too hot in here."
And if that wasn't an invitation to strip her, The Fount wasn't sure if they were speaking the same language.
He pulled back and immediately got to work helping her undo the vestment wrapped around her chest. They were tossed aside and Pure Vanilla began to tug and pull her robes up over her head. The Fount got to work undoing the clasp that held his own vestments up and tossed that aside as well. He fought his robe up over his head and tossed that to the floor before he dared to glance back at Pure Vanilla.
She was left in just her bra and underwear. A lacey, barely there, white bra with a blue ribbon holding everything in place between the swell of her breasts. And a matching pair of underwear that had a blue ribbon just under her navel. His eyes traveled further down to her legs and he felt as if the air had been kicked from his lungs.
Her stockings only went up to her thighs, and were tied off with blue ribbons, and held up by a garter belt that matched everything else.
"It -it's embarrassing, I know." Pure Vanilla wrapped her arms around herself. "Th-the stockings always roll down, so I have to clip them in place, a-and the hooks on the bra broke, so I had to replace them with the ribbon...I," she looked close to crying, "I'm so squishy."
She said that as if it were a curse, but The Fount saw it as a blessing.
His Prophet was absolutely divine.
"S-So...if you do not wish to —,"
The Fount's eyes widened and he quickly shook his head, "NO! No, no! Witches, no! Pure Vanilla," he pressed their bodies together and cupped her head in his hands so he could tilt her head and capture her in a deep kiss. He tried to pour all of his attention and affection into the kiss, the most important kiss of his life!
All of the heat and passion in his kiss slowly melted into something softer, something sweeter. He pulled back and whispered between peppered kissed, "You," kiss, "Are the most kind," kiss, "most level headed," kiss, "most gorgeously divine cookie," kiss, "I have ever had the pleasure to meet." He pressed another deep, searing kiss to her lips.
Her lips trembled against his and her thighs quivered around his waist.
He smiled into the kiss, "And I wish to show," his hands trailed up her thighs to her hips where he squeezed her, "every inch of your dough," he began to pepper kisses down her neck, "How it should be worshipped."
"P-please," Pure Vanilla panted, tears clinging to her eyelashes.
The Fount sat up just long enough to wipe her tears, then he looked back down at Pure Vanilla's body.
He wasn't sure where, or even how, to start.
Cautiously, carefully, he grabbed each of her breasts. He could feel Pure Vanilla's breath under his hands and his hard on was becoming harder to ignore.
The Fount glanced up at Pure Vanilla's face. She kept glancing between him and his hands.
The Fount looked back down at her breasts, then corrected his hands to be cupping her breasts from underneath. He had no idea that breasts were so soft and jiggly. He quietly studied them as he bounced them together, making mental notes of how Pure Vanilla's breath became shallower. Experimentally, he rubbed his thumbs over the swell of her breasts and felt all the jam in his body rush south as two little nubs made themselves known. He went back and forth over her nipples with his thumbs and Pure Vanilla whimpered and squirmed.
Then, without thinking, he lowered his mouth to one of her breasts and took her nipple into his mouth.
Pure Vanilla gasped, "M-My Fount!!" And her back arched up off the bed.
He suckled on the sensitive nipple through her bra, still rubbing his thumb over the other nipple. He wondered for just a split second if the sensation would be different without —
He moved his mouth off her nipple and bit down on one of the ribbon's tails. He yanked back and spat the ribbon out in time to watch her breasts bounce free from the bra. Pure Vanilla gasped again and bit her lip.
"I've got you." He quietly reassured her. Then he lowered his head and took her other nipple in his mouth. He then found and testingly squeezed the un-mouthed nipple between his thumb and forefinger.
Oh yes, the sensation was entirely different! He rolled his tongue around her nipple and gently started to suck. Logically, he knew nothing would come from the action, except for perhaps pleasure, but the thought that one day something MIGHT happen, had him sucking and pinching her nipple a little harder.
Pure Vanilla gasped and her whole body trembled.
He pulled back as if she'd shocked him, "Are you alright??" He gasped, scared his pinching and sucking had hurt her.
"I," She panted, her eyes lazily dazed, "I'm fine." She promised.
"Did I hurt you??"
"No."
The Fount watched her trembling body, too scared to continue until Pure Vanilla began to look lucid again.
"Please, my Fount," she reached up and pulled him back down.
He relaxed into her kiss and pressed his hips down on hers.
Her crotch was wet.
He tried hard not to moan into her mouth, but he reached up and cupped her breasts once more, "May I continue?"
She nodded breathlessly.
The Fount lowered his head and resumed his worship of her breasts, alternating between licking, pinching, rolling, and sucking on her tender, puffy nipples. Each breast was lovingly cupped and adored as Pure Vanilla writhed and whined under him. Each little noise, each new sensation under his hands and in his mouth made his cock throb angrily at being left unattended.
He wasn't used to such a feeling, and while he logically knew cumming would make it better, he wasn't entirely confident he knew how to cum.
His hands eventually left her breasts and traveled down to her hips, where he gripped and groped the soft dough she'd been so ashamed of.
The Fount moaned around her nipple, his tongue flicking and licking the sensitive nub as he groped more of her hips in his hands.
Squishy.
She'd said it like it was something disgusting.
No, no, no. She was so divine, so heavenly, so soft.
He didn't realize he'd started rutting his hips against her clothed cunt until Pure Vanilla moaned out, "P-Please, don't tease me anymore. I - I'm going to cry!"
The Fount popped off of her breasts once more.
Pure Vanilla was already crying, despite what she'd said, "I...I know it's disgusting." She cried, her lips trembling, "Y-You don't have to —,"
"Pure Vanilla," The Fount shook his head, he continued to rut his clothed, aching cock against her clothed, dripping cunt. "You are not disgusting." One his hands slipped down to her underwear. He gathered the fabric between two fingers and pulled it aside. Her cunt throbbed as if saying hello, and glistened with slick.
His mouth went dry and he developed tunnel vision, "You," he freed his cock from his boxers with his other hand and gently squeezed the shaft. A bead of precum wept from the head. He angled himself so he could rub his cock on her hot folds, "Are the most stunning cookie in all of Earthbread." He cautiously nudged his angry blue head into her hot cunt, just as a test.
Pure Vanilla let out another tiny cry, "Do not lie to me, my Fount."
The Fount slowly pushed himself further and further inside, "I do not know what cookie has you so convinced that you are disgusting to behold... But please, my Prophet." The Fount gripped her hips once more to ground himself and keep himself from slamming mindlessly into her. He got about halfway into her velvety cunt before she sputtered out —
"S-Stop!!"
The Fount panted heavily. Her cunt was so tantalizingly warm and soft, just like the rest of her. He wasn't sure he'd be able to keep himself still much longer.
Pure Vanilla's eyes fluttered open, a few more tears escaping from her lashes, "It hurts." Her voice broke.
The Fount froze.
If this hurt...would they even be able to make love? Was this as far as their love got them??
But then she said, "P-Please...a little slower..?"
The Fount's eyebrows shot up. His hands left her hips and found her hands, clenching the bedsheets. He held her hands and pulled them up to rest on either side of her head.
Pure Vanilla looked up at him confused.
He intertwined their fingers together and slowly resumed pushing into her.
Pure Vanilla's mouth fell open in a silent moan and The Fount bent down to swallow it. He kissed her deeply, opening her mouth for him to re-explore. Pure Vanilla would gasp and moan every time he pushed in a little further.
He slowly rolled his hips, pushing in, pulling out, pushing in a little further until finally (finally) the base of his cock was flush against her throbbing cunt.
The Fount broke their kiss and looked down at his divine Prophet.
She looked up at him.
"I would," his mouth was dry, "very much," he panted and pulled his hands away from hers to plant them firmly on either side of her hips, "To ruin you."
Pure Vanilla's eyes widened.
"I do not want you to think of another cookie ever again. Not their words, not their dough." He barely pulled out before thrusting back in, picking up a shallow, quick pace to bounce her on his cock to.
Pure Vanilla's eyes rolled back.
"I want you to think of me, even when I am gone." He began to pull out a little more, thrust a little harder, "I want you to remember how much I worship you, how much I need you, how much I crave you."
Pure Vanilla let out the most beautiful staccato moans as he pulled nearly halfway out before thrusting back in to her needy cunt.
"I want to keep you here, with me, forever."
"Please!" His Prophet cried happily, "O-Oh, Witches, please!"
The Fount leaned down and took one of her bouncing tits in his mouth. He suckled on the poor abused nipple for a moment, then popped off and began to lay searing kisses on her sun-kissed dough.
Without warning, his hips felt tight, and stuttered. He thrust into Pure Vanilla's pretty little pussy and found he could not pull out. His whole body rocked with spasms and his arms shook.
"M-my Fount?"
The Fount's dough ran cold. He'd just cum. For the first time in his life, he came. And he came INSIDE of his Prophet.
He pushed himself up, "I - I am so sorry!" He apologized, "I-If I had known I was going to, o-oh crumbs," he looked down and could see and feel as his cum dribbled out of her cunt around his cock, "M-Miss Vanilla, I am so sorry!" He wanted to worship her, not accidentally impregnate her (no matter how delicious the idea sounded)! She needed to be adored and worshiped and loved, not bred like some common whore cookie!
Then, with a shot of jam that went straight to his softening cock and brought it back to life, he realized she was grinding her hips against his.
“M-Miss Vanilla?” He gripped her hips and guided her further and further onto his cock again.
“P-please, don't stop now,” Pure Vanilla whimpered, “I - I’m so close!”
The Fount’s jaw dropped and he nodded dumbly as he resumed his earlier pace.
“T-touch me!” His Prophet cried.
“Wh-where?”
“Anywhere!”
He knew there was a bundle of nerves somewhere above her pretty little pussy, so he reached down with two fingers and moved more of her underwear aside to feel around.
Pure Vanilla whined impatiently, and breathlessly begged him to touch her.
It took him another second to find the slick, pearly, sensitive bud between his thumb and forefinger, and as soon as he squeezed it, Pure Vanilla’s cunt clamped down onto his cock and she came on him with a scream.
The Fount watched, breathless, as Pure Vanilla’s body twitched with the aftershocks of her orgasm. As her cunt slowly stopped fluttering around his cock, he realized he was still hard, and nowhere near close to being done with the little cookie under him.
“My beautiful Prophet,” he took one of her limp hands and kissed her knuckles, “Would you allow me to indulge in your sweetness a little longer.”
Wordlessly, still recovering, she nodded.
The next morning Pure Vanilla woke up sore all over.
For being a pair of virgins, her Fount sure had a lot of stamina. She’d lost count how many times they’d gone back and forth pleasuring each other after the fourth or fifth round. She’d been so fucked out and out of it that she’d barely registered him bathing her and laying her back down in his (freshly made) bed.
She snuggled the pillow under her head and sighed contentedly when she felt a pair of lips press into her bare shoulders.
“I apologize for getting so rough.” Her Fount chuckled, “Why don't you take the day off and relax, my divine Prophet?”
Pure Vanilla hummed tiredly. She wanted to argue, but her whole body was still aglow with love and want.
Her Fount continued to press kisses into her shoulders, eventually rolling closer to her and pressing his hard love and want between her thighs.
It seemed like she wouldn't be the only one staying in bed, although she wasn't sure she’d get any recovering done today.