krempuff | [for Adaline; April]

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[for Adaline; April]

Krem made sure that he had enough time to get home and shower before Adaline would be coming over. He didn't know, really, if she would be baking bread at his place as well, but he wanted to at least have enough time for that. It was a day he had off work, but he'd been at the gym anyway, which meant he'd gone harder than necessary, which meant he needed the shower even more than ever if he was going to have her over.

He was probably acting a damn fool about this. But it was worth making a good second impression. Just in case the first impression was just the wine talking.

Of course, since the lemon cake was a process, it still left him idling as he waited for Adaline to show up. He double checked that he'd texted her the proper building and apartment number, that he hadn't come across rudely. He tidied a little. He took off the cat's collar, just so she wouldn't spook Adaline--after all, there was no reason to assume Adaline would be able to see a ghost cat, like Krem could, so a floating collar would be awful strange. And then, he simply waited between steps of making the cake, as patiently as he possibly could, trying not to be nervous the whole time.

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Adaline's breath catches in a little gasp, her hips jerking a little at the teasing touch. She's not wet enough to have soaked through her panties, not yet, but she knows she has to be close.

"Bold," she says, smiling.

"I seem to remember you were rather a fan of me being bold, Adaline," he murmured again the flutter of her pulse under her jaw. He scraped his teeth, the barest pressure of it, and shifted them on the couch just a little, so he could more easily shift between her thighs.

Gently, he rubbed up against her, fingers curled gently against her, still teasing her through her panties, and the bulge tucked down the front of his jeans a gentle reminder of his difference from any other man she might have been with, but he could press against her just the same as another, rutting into the crook of her thigh.

"Oh, did I?" says Adaline, affecting a dreamy, confused tone. "You might have to remind me." He shifts her so easily on the couch, slides between her thighs so neatly and Adaline smiles up at him, lifting her hips to the brush of his fingertips against her through silk. One hand stays in his hair, the other sliding down his side to his ass, squeezing just a little, pulling him in just a little tighter against her.

She'd be lying if she'd said this wasn't what she hoped for when she accepted the invitation to dinner.

"I could probably throw you over my shoulder," he speculated softly, sighing at the way that she handled him as well, the surety with which she moved. Without the soft haze of alcohol, everything seemed much clearer and more certain. He was much happier to softly speak his mind against her skin.

"Though, if I'm going to pin you down I'd prefer to do it against my bed and not against my couch."

Adaline has absolutely no doubt of that, with the breadth of his shoulders and the obvious strength of his biceps. She bites her lip over a grin.

"Oh, yes," she says. "Definitely the bed."

Krem lifted an eyebrow at Adaline slowly, looking at the way she was looking at him. Then, slowly, he took his hand out from under her skirt.

It took a moment of contemplation, really just to figure out the best place to stand and to grab her, before he finally shuffled out from between her legs, wrapped his arms around her securely and hoisted her carefully up off the couch.

The height difference did make it a bit of an awkward carry. He shifted her a bit, so she was more over both his shoulders rather than just one, and he was less likely to dangle her poorly. It did also mean he got to keep a perfunctory hand on her backside as he carried her to the bedroom.

Adaline makes an entirely undignified noise as he hoists her and, once he's got her settled across his shoulders, she finds that she can't stop laughing. She presses one hand across her flushed face.

"Oh, my God."

Krem laughed as well, bright and happy, and when he reached the bed, he eased her off his shoulders gently, before letting her down with a sort of flop that let her bounce onto the mattress. It made her skirt flutter a little, and he smiled at her, cheeks pleasantly flushed, before he climbed onto the bed after her.

"Alright?"

"I'm fine," she says, pulling him down for a kiss. "Just hoping that I really am about to be completely ravished."

He kissed her back, deep and thorough, smiling into it as he slipped his hands gently against her and then pinned them against the bed. He slotted himself between her thighs, but her skirt was in the way of things. Gently transferring both her fine wrists into one of his hands, he reached down, rucking her skirt up--and all the while, he kept kissing her, hungry and deep and smiling.

When there was nothing between them but her silken panties and his own clothes, the bulge of his packer in his pants, he pressed back against her, rubbing against her again.

Thoroughly held, Adaline arches but doesn't squirm against Krem's hold on her wrists. She spreads her legs to accommodate him between her thighs, tilting her chin to meet his kisses with equal hunger.

It's entirely unladylike, the way she grinds her hips up to meet his.

For a series of long, drawn out moments it was simply that: their bodies moving against each other, breaths mingling between hot, heavy kisses and her wrists caught in his fingers, pressed together like that.

With her skirt rucked up to her waist, it was easy to scrape the nails of his free hand along the inside of her thighs, to unhook her garter belt from her stockings. He grinned against her mouth.

She has rarely, in her life, been kissed so thoroughly. She flexes her fingers, still not trying to pull away from him because, honestly, why would she?

"Why is it..." She asks, a little bit breathless. "That I end up naked before you?" She isn't complaining, honestly, but it is deeply amusing.

"Is that a suggestion?" he asked softly, nuzzling his nose against hers. "Besides: all your clothes are still definitely on your body. And more's the pity for that."

He grinned, but still slid his hands across her--away from her thighs, away from her hands. "Stay there," he said, voice husky with command. He knelt away from her and began to strip off his own clothing, his eyes never leaving the sight of her strewn and rumpled on his bed.

"Definitely not a suggestion. An observation." That note in his voice sends a shiver through Adaline and, when he straightens up, Adaline stays exactly where she is, hands over her head, knees spread, skirt rucked up around her thighs. She bites her lip as she watches him start to strip.

When he was down to only his shorts--stripping off even the binder--the front of them pressed from his packer, he came back between her thighs. This time, since he'd already undone the suspenders of her garter belt, he reached up and gently pulled her panties down her thighs before anything else, smiling at the lovely sight of her.

There was a part of him half tempted to rehook the suspenders, now that her panties were off, to leave her otherwise clothed as he did his best to do as she'd asked and ravish her thoroughly. She did make a lovely sight in that dress, after all, and it would be awfully pretty to disappear under her skirts to taste her.

He dropped her panties off the side of the bed with his own clothes and pressed himself right up against her, rubbing gently. His packer was not ideal for any sort of fucking, but it was thicker, longer than fingers. He could certainly work with it, if nothing else. For now, though, he kissed at her neck and kept teasing her.

The press between her legs is enough to tease and Adaline moans, softly, her head tipped back against the bed to give him all of the room that he wants. She closes her legs, framing his hips, squeezing slightly as he rides down against her, moving one of her hands to push it back into his hair.

He can move it back if he likes.

Krem contemplated letting her leave her hand there in his hair, the momentary gentle insistence of her touch rushing through him. Instead, he grabbed her wrist. He lingered a kiss to the palm of her hand and then put her hand back down on the bed, where it had been a moment before.

"I didn't say you could move yet."

That sends a shiver through her. She leaves her hand where it is there, her fingers curled. She drags in a breath, enjoying the bind of her dress across her breasts as she looks up at him. Her cheeks flush.

"Yes, Sir," she says, corner of her mouth lifted in a smile. Teasing.

The soft, teasing voice, the promise of it, sank through him as much as her sprawled, prone position did. Krem kissed Adaline's cheeks, her soft jaw, her long neck. He scraped his hands along her body until he found the zipper of her dress and could draw it down. As much as he adored her like this, he wanted her down at least to her small things, wanted to see her squirming on his sheets like that.

He got distracted, though, skirting his fingers over her body and cupping her crotch, rubbing her slowly. He slowly slid a single, teasing finger into her, all the way to the knuckle, while he nibbled up along her ear.

Adaline moans when he presses his finger into her, her hips riding forward to meet it as he plays with her like that. There's a lazy heat burning in her cheeks. She whimpers, softly, rocking her hips forward again. "God, Krem, you feel so good. Please."

"Please what?" Krem murmured against her ear. He pressed in a second finger, slow and steady but insistent, curling both of them up, as his thumb flicked against her clit. It was a stretching sort of fingering, preparing her, but also with the goal of hopefully bringing her off at least once before he moved on to anything else. After all, he knew from experience that using a toy was more about the other person than it was about him. It would probably be after dinner--or at least after cake--before he let her pay any attention to him, if she had any desire to in the first place.

"Just please," says Adaline who, honestly, has very little practice at any kind of talking dirty. She has the momentary urge to cover her flushed face with her hands, but Krem told her not to move them so she leaves them where they are and closes her eyes for a moment instead. She moans, a little, at the way his fingers stretch her, at the brush of his thumb against her clit. "Please you can do whatever you want to me."

He could recognize it was the best he was going to get, and it was lovely just the same as if she had listed off a hundred filthy things she wanted from him. He kissed her, slow and deep and lazy, for a moment as he kept fingering her, and then, after a moment, he pulled slowly away from her.

"I need a moment," he said, and laughed softly, "to get things situated. So if you wouldn't mind taking off your dress while I'm out of bed."

"Just the dress?" asks Adaline, though she's already sitting up and shrugging it off her shoulders, blonde hair falling tousled around her face as she glances up at him. She's aware of how garter belt and bra frame nudity in a way that has definite appeal. She's quite content to let Krem run the show here.

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