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Whip Until Frothy 3/3
06/28/11(Tue)05:20 No.27230029 File1309252803.jpg-(7 KB, 156x139, MrsCake.jpg)
>>27230004 She wrapped her hind legs around his narrow waist, pulling him closer. She began to grind her hips against his, intimately. "Whip me," she moaned in his ear. "Whip me like cream." He looked down, surprised, but as he met her eyes he knew she wasn't just playing. He shuffled sideways, reaching for a drawer at the side of the bed, doing his best not to go too far from his wife's warm embrace. Fumbling in the dark, he finally produced a small horse crop. Lightweight. Nothing too painful. Mrs. Cake bit her lip excitedly. She turned her head away slightly, but kept her gleaming eyes on the toy. They weren't particularly kinky, but their love life was a recipe that called for extra spice every now and then. He whipped the crop in the air, making an audible snap. She moaned softly, filled with anticipation. He was grinding against her. They were both so eager now. "And when we're done," he smiled, holding the crop high, "I'll give you my special glaze." She giggled, reaching up to wrap her fore legs around his shoulders. She pulled her husband down to her face. They kissed passionately, the warmth of their embrace easily overpowering the chill of the night. "I love you, Mr. Cake," she said softly in his ear. She smiled, looking into his eyes. Her hooves were draped on his shoulders.
"I love you, Mrs. Cake," he smiled back.
He sat up, straddling her wide hips. "Now don't make too much noise, sugar lump. You don't want to wake little miss Mess." She giggled, leaning back and lying flat on the bed. "I'll try to be quiet, dear." |