By Philip.
Copyright ©1998 by Philip
Honey Pot © 1998 Philip. All Rights Reserved.
Do not reproduce or distribute without the
expressed written consent of the author.
It had been Shelley's suggestion that we ate naked. Of all the dumb
ideas, it had seemed like a great thing to do at the time but a chunk of
hot potato can do wonders. She'd just seen the film Tom Jones on TV and
was brimming over with enthusiasm for it, I had seen this reaction a
dozen times, she especially liked erotic movies and fiction and I fed
her craving because I usually reaped the benefit. When the heat hit her
she was like a crazy woman, a walking, sucking clitoris on high-heels.
She could wear me out a dozen times over and more than once she had been
forced to resort to her pink Day-Glo plastic friend while I lay spread-
eagled on sweat-dampened sheets, every muscle a quivering wreck and my
penis a withered, sticky appendage resting on my thigh. But I didn't
mind, we'd been together over a year now and the sex was still a big
deal in our relationship, I haven't sold my soul and libido to DIY just

"You okay now?" She asked, grinning over the rim of a wine
glass. The single candle made the burnt umber of her skin all the more
luxurious. "I think maybe the potato was a bad idea."

I shook my head. "Not at all, it's delicious." Sure, the potato
had almost burned my prick off, but the meal was delicious. Shelley made
kitchen scraps taste yummy and when she put some effort into it the
result could be devastating. I forked another chunk of spiced potato,
leaned far over the plate and nibbled it. Damn, she could cook! She was
watching me intensely, enjoying my appreciation. Her elbows were on the
table, arms forming a triangle at which the wine glass was the apex, I
was sorry that her breasts were hidden from me.

"Move your arms," I said.

"Why?" She raised her voice and her eyebrows at the same time.

"Just for me."


She did as I asked, putting the glass back beside the plate. Her
breasts became visible, two orbs of wonderful rich brown. The fat
nipples dark and far more tempting than the desert. What she saw in me
and my white body, I'll never know, we were almost at the extremes of
the pigmentation scale. She lifted one breast for me, cupping it gently
in her hand, allowing a finger to play over the brown nipple, pressing
it down and then allowing it to spring back.

"You want your pudding now?"

A tempting proposition. The meal was almost finished and we had
arrived at the more tempting course. I abandoned my knife and fork,
wiped my lips on the napkin. I don't usually associate food with sex,
when the heat is on me food is the last thing I think about, but this
pudding would be exceptional. My cock was already stirring and would
soon be hard, I glanced down at it. The tip of my glans gently nudged
the hem of the tablecloth.

"Let me see," Shelley said urgently and disappeared under the
table. I felt her hands on my knees and my penis responded. She had a
fascination with my erection, or any erection for that matter. She loved
to watch it stiffen and wilt as she knew she had more direct control
over it than I did. I pushed the chair back and she emerged from under
the table, the tablecloth catching on her straightened hair and then
falling down her back. Her face was between my knees now, watching my
cock with rapt fascination. I watched her expression. I got that sort of
drained, exhilarated feeling from my stomach as my penis filled and
hardened, the dark bulb of the plump head emerging from my foreskin. The
little V of skin that connected the shaft to the slit stretched and the
skin reddened. I felt her painted nails touch my balls, the slight
roughness of my hair.

"Wow!" She said simply.

My cock felt like a bar of iron between my legs, it was curved
ever so slightly and the shining head stood out from the rod. It
demanded to be inside her, in her mouth or her cunt, between her breasts
or up her oiled ass. She reached out her tongue and touched the eye of
my penis. It kicked in response. She giggled and then stood, bringing
her body as close to mine as she did so. Her breasts touched my thighs,
the gently roughness of sin on skin. Her belly was smooth and slightly
rounded, her long belly button a wonderful hint of what was to come. The
belly suddenly swooping down to a point between her legs where a thin
patch of tight black nestled between her legs. She shifted her posture,
set her feet farther apart so that the lips of her vagina came into
view, a wicked indentation with a wide dimple on the top, very much like
the letter pie. I reached out and ran the pads of my fingers between her
legs. I'm always surprised how firm it feels under there, I always
imagine it to be soft. Her lips were wet and as I pulled my hand back I
allowed my index finger to enter her slightly, then drew it and a trail
of her moisture along the line of her sex and to her clitoris. She
shuddered when I reached that point. I could have gone on, but she
caught my hand and withdrew it.

She leaned close to me, her tits rubbed against my chest. "Not
yet," she whispered. "We haven't had desert yet."

We broke apart. I watched her bottom as she padded over to the
kitchen. Was that it? I couldn't believe we'd break off just for
pudding. Shelley's mind was as erotic as mine, she had something
planned. I smiled and allowed my hand to rub up and down my cock,
pulling the foreskin up over the head then down where it rolled under
the diagonal shelf of erect flesh between the head and the shaft.

Shelly wasn't long. She emerged holding a silver tray. On the
tray I could see several bowls and a jug. Once the tray was laid on the
table she quickly cleared it of the plates and all the cutlery. The wine
glasses and the candle were moved to the mantelpiece. Now all that was
left was the clean table cloth and the tray. Each bowel contained fruit,
in one plump strawberries, in another red grapes, chucks of melon and
peach. Even bananas. I peered into the mug expecting to see cream, in
fact it was filled with honey. I love honey. I went to dip my finger
into the golden liquid but Shelley slapped my hand away.

"Not yet," she scolded me, but her eyes laughed. "That's not for
you fingers."

"What's it for then?"

She climbed up onto the table (which I should inform you was
wide and very solid, built of English oak) and laid down next to the
tray. I stared at her, this was the last thing I'd expect her to do.

She said: "I read a little while ago about Queen Cleopatra. Did
you know that some people thing she was black? Queen of the Nile. Back
in those days they didn't have the contraception that we have today, but
Cleopatra thought up a novel way of protecting herself. It stuck in my
mind and now I want to try it; you know I'll try anything once, even
Morris dancing. Take the jug."

I did as she asked and once I had I was surprised to see that
she curled her legs before her then stretched them straight up into the
air, lifting her pelvis from the table and supporting the small of her
back with her hands. She opened her legs.

"Now pour the honey into me," she said.

I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

"Go on, pour it into me."

I climbed onto the table too, and kneeled so that my body helped
her to stay up. I bent my head between her open thighs and looked down
on her vagina. The skin was darker here, raised up to the coral edges of
her generous labia. I curled my arms about her legs so that I had easy
access to this gorgeous fanny. In a fit of lust I put my face straight
down onto her, pushing my nose into her opening; her scent, sweet and
heady, shot straight up to my brain and almost blew my head clean off my
shoulders. But I had been given my orders, I withdrew my nose from her
quim and reaching down carefully picked up the jug full of honey. With
the fingers of my left hand I eased her open, revealing the shiny pink
of her hidden world, then I inserted two fingers and held her lips wide.
Steadying my hand I began to pour. The clear honey came out slowly at
first, this would have to be with great care and without rushing. The
first gloop of gold hit dead centre, disappearing into her pussy. I felt
her twitch.

"Oh, It's cold. It tickles!"

But I continued, concentrating on getting as much honey into her
without spilling it over her skin. It was an exciting sight, watching
her eat it all up. The golden wire slipping into my favourite hole. My
cock pressed against her back. She took more than I would have thought
possible, and I didn't fill her up completely. If she'd closed her legs
the honey would have shot out like toothpaste from the tube. Just to
test the water I dipped a finger into her honey pot, I didn't need to go
in far before the tip of my finger touched the sticky liquid. I licked
my finger clean.

"Is that is?" She asked.

"You're full." I didn't worry about her being able to hold that
pose, she was limber, a disciple of yoga and aerobics.

She shifted herself, putting her legs into a diamond, feet
resting together. I had good access to her cunt. The honey that had got
onto her pussy lips glistened seductively.

"Try the strawberry," she said.

I took a good plump strawberry from one of the bowls. Slowly I
dipped it into her, saying as I did so: "This is the tip of my fat cock,
can't you feel it easing inside."

The shiver that ran through her body told me that she did.

I held it inside for a moment then withdrew it, the honey had
stuck to the bottom, bringing a thin trail with it. I bit it in two, the
taste of the fruit and the honey was bliss. I pushed the strawberry
inside again, enjoying the way the red skin of the fruit parted her and
skimmed the nectar. I wiped the excess on her labia and popped it into
my mouth. She raised her legs slightly and the honey bulged in her
pussy, a wave eased its way over her clit and down to her pubic hair,
another rivulet ran the other way and pooled in the dip of her anus.

"That was delicious," I said, licking my lips. "What next?"

"The melon."

Yes, the melon, a thin wedge of light yellow, the skin removed.
I dipped it into her slowly, more honey ran from her and I caught it
with my finger and when that proved futile I lapped it up with my
tongue. With the melon still in place inside her, held upright in her
vagina, I sucked at the honey on her body, sucking up her lips at the
same time and tugging them gently, watching as the drops of honey fell
from my lips and merged with the golden lake between her legs. When I
pulled at the wedge of melon from her cunt it didn't want to come at
first, but slowly I managed to ease it out, bringing a lot of the honey
out with it, I transferred it quickly to my mouth before most of the
honey was lost. A banana went next, I broke it carefully into chunks and
scooped the sweet substance from her, sipping at her cup. My mouth was
infused with sweetness, and while I had eaten my fill my lover had so
far skipped her favourite course.

"Aren't you going to have some?" I said, putting my head between
her legs.

She smiled up at me from her awkward position. "Is there any

"Enough for one more."

I helped her straighten out. She moaned and rubbed her back,
then we both laughed. Sitting on the table between her legs I took her
knees and moved them apart. What was left of the honey was running from
her and forming a little puddle on the table. As I moved upon her she
laid down. I took my penis by the bottom of the shaft and, nestling
myself above her, pushed the head deep into her. The honey that still
slicked the inside of her pussy gave me a pleasurable resistance as I
pushed in. I'll admit, the idea of the stickiness had put me off at
first, but now I didn't care, it was like I was being glued into her,
and it wasn't an unpleasant experience at all. I kissed her on the lips
and allowed her tongue to share my desert. While we kissed and my right
hand traced the edges of her nipples I began slow, careful strokes. The
honey felt wonderful between us. But it wasn't my intention to come
just yet. I withdrew and stared down at my cock, shining with its new
sweet coating. Reaching into the bowl beside me I balanced a single
cherry on the tip of my penis. Shelley laughed out loud and then plucked
it off my red, sticky glans with her full lips. She ate it and then
deposited the pip back onto the tip of my jade stalk. We laughed ever
harder. I dropped the pip into the bowl. Now her face was serious, the
way she bowed her head but still gazed up at me with those dark brown
eyes told me what she was about to do. I leaned back, bracing myself as
her lips kissed the eye of my shaft. She licked it and I saw the honey
catch between her tongue and my sensitive skin.

"Sweet." She said. "Hmm."

She took my glans in her hand while gently teasing my prick with her
teeth, buffering them with her lips. I lay back and enjoyed. Her mouth
was hot, so hot, and wet too. The way her tongue worked about my head,
teasing and tasting. It felt like I had put my penis into a washing
machine on hot-wash. Now and then she withdrew and licked at me with the
tip of her tongue, sometimes jamming he tongue into the slit or into the
sensitive cleft on the underside of my head. She cleaned my penis right
down to the balls and the way she lifted them and played them with her
tongue brought with it twinges of an impending orgasm. She worked at the
cleft with the ball of a lubricated thumb. Shelley knew how to work me,
how to make me come quickly or how to keep me in long, pleasurable
anguish. She knew from my sharp intakes of breath and the way my stomach
spasmed uncontrollably that I was imminent. She pushed my penis back
against my body and sunk her teeth gently into my testicles. It was too
much! I closed my eyes and allowed my sperm to fly where it will. I felt
each shot as it left me, like an express elevator forcing its way up the
centre of my cock. Finished I lay with my hands behind my head, resting
against the cloth, my limp cock on my belly, I could feel my semen hot
against my skin.

"Hey!" A hand nudged me.

I opened one eye, and then the other. She was offering me a
peach, its soft pink skin was covered with my come.

"You haven't finished your pudding yet, there's still peaches
and cream."

I wrinkled my nose and turned my face away.

"Ow, come on, how many times have I had to eat it."

She had a point there, how many times had she swallowed it all.

What was it she said: "Try everything once, including Morris dancing."

"Alright," I said, taking the peach from her hand and taking a
big bite from the soft, sweet flesh.


Honey Pot © 1998 Philip. All Rights Reserved.
Do not reproduce or distribute without the
expressed written consent of the author.

Comments welcomed - Philip
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