My S'more Secret

Funny how I mentioned my love of winter yesterday.  Last night we were sitting in front of the fire and Sir decided we should roast marshmallows. I looked at him like he’d lost his mind. 

“Marshmallows, really?” I asked.

“Yes, I’ll go get them and while I’m gone, you can take off your gown.”

Keep in mind, this was a weekday, so I didn’t have his collar on. I didn’t have to listen to him. But I was insanely curious about why we would be roasting marshmallows, much less doing it naked.

He didn’t take his clothes off, but started heating a couple marshmallows in the fireplace. He only brought one stick; there wasn’t anything for me to do except watch. Which, as you can imagine, got a bit boring after awhile.

But when he turned away from the fire and faced me, there was a look in his eyes that made me gulp. He let the marshmallow cool slightly and then he stuck his finger in it. 

“Offer me your breasts.”

I lifted them, suddenly realizing why only one of us was naked.

He split the marshmallow open and ran the cut side over my nipple. Fuck, it was hot, but only for  a minute and he dipped his head to suck the sticky white goo off.

“Oh, fuck,” I said as he did the same to the other side.

“Better than s’mores.”

He prepared two more marshmallow to put in the fire. While they were roasting, he looked over his shoulder to where I was sitting and gave me an evil grin.

“Part those pretty legs for me.”