Hello GREYsessed readers! I hope you all had a wonderful holiday! Perhaps some basting? Well, whatever your choice of pleasure, I hope it was great! I personally partake in the crazy Black Friday ritual. This year it was 21 hours of shopping, and no-this was not my longest. Last year was over 24 hours! *bowing as I accept my medal of courage and crazy. So with the holiday season upon us, I am thinking up some yummy holiday kink for you! Silver balls, naughty Santa, hide the holiday pickle and such. But for now, enjoy Part 2 of “50 Shades of Greytfulness and Gratitude.”
Love & Laters©, Michele
I stand there with my mouth open in shock for a few seconds, minutes, I am not sure. Did Christian just ask me to eat pumpkin pie off of him? Well, I guess I shouldn’t be too shocked. He did just use a turkey baster on me. At this point, I am convinced that we could make anything kinky.
“Ana, close your mouth. Unless you are ready to eat this pie off of me,” says Christian, whipping me out of my trance. I pucker my lips together and take a good look at the pie. Grace’s famous pumpkin pie sits innocently on the gold-trimmed antique dessert plate. Something seems morally wrong with this scenario. I eyeball my inner goddess who’s holding up her own piece of pie, ready to throw it in my face. Okay, okay…lower your weapon. It just seems like an unchaste act of the highest level. Generations have shared this family recipe and now my kinky husband wants to be a self-serve pumpkin pie buffet.
“Well, I’m guessing you’d like your pie served hot and ready to eat,” says Christian as he quickly gets undressed. I stand in awe of him as he unbuttons his white dress shirt and takes it off to reveal his beautiful self. My eyes immediately find the small scars that are forever a reminder of his past. I look up and our eyes lock. “Stop biting that lip, Mrs. Grey. Or this is going to be over before it starts.” I didn’t realize I was doing that. But then again, I never seem to be aware of it. He continues undressing, taking off his dress shoes and grey wool pants. As he folds his pants and lies them over the arm of the sofa, I can see he’s table is set and ready for some pie.
“See something you like?” he asks. Was I being that obvious? Well, it’s pretty hard not to notice the bulge sticking out from his boxer briefs.
“Just checking out the dessert table. It looks delicious and I haven’t even picked out my toppings yet,” I reply with a smirk.
“Hungry, are we? You know I love it when you eat.” A huge smile crosses his face. He slides off his briefs. Oh my.
He walks back to the sofa and lies down. “Dessert table is open,” Oh boy. My inner goddess has her bib in place and is singing, “Pour some sugar on me.” I chuckle to myself as I walk over to the coffee table and pick up the delicate plate.
I kneel down on the floor next to the sofa. You’re fine, I tell myself. We did this sort of thing during the summer. But instead of pumpkin pie, it was ice cream. My mind flashes back to Christian eating Kinky Cotton Candy off of my body and vice versa. You’ve got this Ana. I just wish it wasn’t the darn pie.
“Ready and waiting, Mrs. Grey.” Right. I reach my hand over the plate and grab a handful of pie. I don’t even bother with the fork. Christian’s eyes widen as I place the fistful of pumpkin on him. There. The aroma of cinnamon, nutmeg, and pumpkin fill the air as I smear the pie around, up and down. A low moan escapes Christian’s mouth as I slowly massage the pie into him.
“Enjoying this, Mr. Grey?” He opens his eyes and looks at me. He doesn’t say a word, just shakes his head as I continue to stroke the pie up and down. “Hold that thought.” I turn towards the table and pick up the whipped cream with my sticky, pie-covered hands. “I like a little cream with my pie,” I say with a sexy smirk. He watches in delight as I shake the can.
“You are quite a sight,” he says as he watches me. Quite a sight, I am sure. I am completely naked, kneeling over my husband with orange sticky hands. Gosh I hope the door downstairs is locked.
“Ready?” I ask holding up the can.
I push the nozzle down and the cream starts to envelope Christian’s now pie-covered self. It has a ripples out in a pretty ribbon-like fashion as I cover his tip. “Don’t you look good enough to eat,” I say smiling at my creation.
“Well then by all means, dig in my dear,” replies Christian eagerly. I keep my eyes locked on his as I reach back and drop the can to the table. Bringing my left hand to him and wrapping it around the base, I lower my head down and take him in. Slowly down. Then up as I swirl my tongue around, licking up the whipped cream and pie. It tastes divine.
“Oh fuck Ana.” Christian growls and throws his head back into the sofa. His reaction is enticing as ever and begs me to keep going. I open my mouth wider and take him in deeper, licking all the way down. I slowly work my tongue back up, following with my hand. I look up at Christian, who’s got his eyes closed and breathing heavily. I take my mouth off of him and he quickly looks up.
“Full already, Mrs. Grey?”
“No, that was just my appetizer. I am getting ready for the main course.” I reach back and grab myself another handful of pie. Christian’s mouth is suspended open as I slather the pie all over him once again. He moans out loud as I massage it into him using long, hard strokes.
“Ahh…Ana…fuck…,” he gasps. My clit throbs at his moans and I increase the rhythm of my hand. Christian’s breathing deepens. I love watching him come undone before my eyes. I adjust my position on the floor so that I can take him in my mouth again. Oh my, pumpkin pie… I could get used to a dessert-covered Christian. I tongue him allover, licking up the last of the sweetness as he starts to get closer to orgasm. “Ana…Ana…” he moans as he climaxes hard. I savor every last part of him as I watch him finish.
“Thank you, Mrs. Grey. That was both a visual and physical treat,” he says with a labored breath.
“You are most welcome. It was my tasting pleasure, Sir.” I give him a wink. “As much as I’d like to stay up here eating pie, we really should get back to the house.”
“Ah, you’re right. I almost forgot about everyone else.” He gets up from the couch and heads to the bathroom. “Let me clean up a bit, then we can rejoin the party.” I hear the faucet turn on. I suppose I should join him in cleaning up since my hands are a sticky mess.
“I will never look at Grace’s pumpkin pie the same again,” I say to him as we wash up quickly.
“Another first, Mrs. Grey,” he replies and plants a soft kiss on my head. “Perhaps a start of a holiday tradition for us.” I giggle at the thought.
“And there it is,” he says.
“There what is?” I ask.
“My favorite sound in the world. Your laughter. I could listen all day to it,” he says looking into my eyes. Blue to grey. Only us in this moment. “You. Are. Mine.”
“Yours,” I whisper as I embrace him.
As we head back into the main room and start dressing when the creek of the front door stops us in our tracks. “Christian…Ana?” Shit, it’s Grace!
“Up here,” Christian yells to her. “Ana was just getting some much needed rest.” The sound of her footsteps on the stairs makes me amplify my speed dressing. Christian gets my dress zipped up for me just in the nick of time.
“There you two are,” she says sweetly. “I was starting to worry.” She walks towards me and embraces me with a big hug. I give a thank-goodness-we-didn’t-get-caught- look to Christian. He reacts with an odd face and starts swiping at his head. I don’t understand what he is doing but he keeps at it until Grace lets go of me.
“Oh sweetheart, what is in your hair?” Grace asks as she examines my head with a confused look.
She reaches up and strokes a part of my hair, pulling out a piece of oh my gosh….pie covered crust!
My face instantly burns with embarrassment as she holds it in front of me to look at.
Christian burst out laughing. How can he laugh when all I want to do is crawl into the fetal position and die. “I don’t know how that got there,” I mutter. Seriously, I pray that Grace cannot read minds at this very moment. Or read the mortified look on my face.
“She just loves your pie, “Christian manages to say with a semi-straight face. “I mean, really loves your pie Mom.” He is trying not to burst out in laughter again. He is so in trouble with me later.
“Yes Grace, it’s true. And I guess my eating manners went to the wayside out of pure exhaustion. This pregnancy has been taking its toll lately.” I hope she is buying this concoction we are selling hard.
“Of course you are dear. Pregnancy is no joke. I am glad you got your rest,” Grace says as I watch her eyes glance over to the table. “Oh, there’s where the whipped cream ran off to. I just got done badgering Carrick that he must’ve forgot to buy it. He pulled the refrigerator apart looking for it.”
“Well, it can be our secret Mom,” Christian says with a smile. “Let him believe he’s losing his mind.”
Grace laughs. “You’re terrible Christian. But we could have fun with that. Anyways, the reason I came looking for you is to give you this.” She hands Christian the pastel yellow bag she’s been holding. “It’s what you’ve been waiting for.” She winks at him. “I am heading back to the house. Will you be rejoining us soon?”
“Yes, and thank you Mom.” Christian gives Grace a huge hug. I love seeing them like this, especially Christian. “We’ll be over after this,” he says holding up the bag. What are these two up to I wonder.
“I’ll be nice and take this back to your father,” Grace says with a giggle as she grabs the whipped cream. “Unless the two of you aren’t done with it.” She smiles at me. Oh dear.
“No, we are finished. Please, take it to Carrick,” I say without hesitation. Jeez Ana, relax. I look over at my inner goddess who’s giggling and rubbing her hair.
“Ok you two, see you in a bit.” Grace heads downstairs and back to the main house.
I breathe out a sigh of relief. “That was the longest five minutes of my entire life. Pie.. in my hair! I am mortified Christian!”
“Don’t worry, she has no idea. We played it off well.” He starts laughing again. Jeez, I am going to slap him.
“Not funny, Mr. Grey. We were two minutes from exposing your mother to the assault on her pumpkin pie. We almost had an “American Pie” moment. But instead of you being caught inside a pie, you were the pie. And I was going to town like the hotdog eating contest at Coney Island.” We both burst out in laughter.
“Oh Ana, what you do to me.” He hands me the bag. “I hope you like it. It’s just a little something.”
I take the bag and sit down on the couch to open it. There’s several pieces of white tissue paper I need to take out before I discover something soft on the bottom. I pull it out and hold it up. My eyes instantly swell up with tears. In my hands I hold a baby onesie. And on it in black lettering it says, “I’m Lil Blip”. I can no longer hold my tears back, and they fall endlessly.
“I take it you like it, Mrs. Grey.” Christian attempts to wipe the flood of tears from my cheeks. “I was going to wait until Christmas to give it to you. Then when Grace said she finished making it, I couldn’t wait to see your face when you opened it. And you didn’t disappoint my love.”
“I love it Christian. It means so much. I just love you.”
“And I you. But you do know we will have to eventually name this baby. Little Blip will just get our kid beat up in the school yard.”
“Yes, I know. But I love Little Blip for now. Thank you. Thank you for a perfect Thanksgiving.”
“You are welcome, my love. And now we have a pie-eating tradition to look forward to each year.” He gives me his sexy smile. “Now I need to start thinking ahead to Christmas.”
“Christmas? Can we finish one holiday at a time?”
“Sure..for now. But the possibilities are endless. The Twelve Days of Kinky Christmas, perhaps?” Hmm… sounds intriguing. I cue my inner goddess to get my silver balls….I mean bells.