Chapter 97: Being food

Tom climbed onto the table and spread for her.

There was a brief flash of disbelief in his own body as he did it as he could feel his bare back against the polished surface, his thighs opening under the black lace, the position was so openly offered that it left no room for pride to dress itself up as anything else.

Stella’s face lit with pure delight. Whatever hesitation he still carried only seemed to feed her more.

"Eyes on me," she said, all smiles. Whether it was that delighted smile of hers or the tone of hers, Tom couldn’t tell what got him so eager to obey. He felt compelled to obey her.

He fixed his gaze on her And Only then did she step back. Not far. Just enough to make him watch properly. Her fingers caught the hem of her crop top and she lifted it slowly, inch by inch, until the fabric cleared her breasts and she pulled it off over her head.

Free of the tight material, her breasts settled with a soft, live heaviness, her nipples were already hard from the earlier heat of watching him. The top landed on the floor without further ado.

Tom’s mouth watered at that juicy sight.

Stella watched the effect land on him and her smile grew bigger. She was clearly in no rush. Her thumbs slid into the waistband of the bum shorts next. She turned them down over her hips with the same intentional patience, bending just enough to make the motion a show instead of a simple undressing. When the shorts left her legs and joined the crop top on the floor, there was nothing left to hide how ready she was.

She was visibly wet, slick enough that the shine of it showed along her inner thighs. As she straightened, a slow bead traced downward and threatened the floor.

Tom’s cock twitched hard against the lace as he saw that.

He already knew he was going to have to hold himself together if she wanted the moment to belong to her first. The sight alone was dangerous.

Stella climbed up onto the table with fluid confidence, set her hands on his thighs, and pulled the front of the lace boxers down just far enough to free him. For a second she only looked at what she had uncovered, her eyes dark with appetite. Then she lowered her head and took him into her mouth.

"Uhhh..." The heat of it tore a moan out of Tom at once.

There was nothing like pulling back in the way she sucked him. She treated his cock like something she had every intention of consuming properly; her lips sealed tight on the cock, her tongue pressing along the underside, while her head kept bobbing with wet, focused hunger.

The filthy and rhythmic sound of it filled the kitchen. One of her hands stayed wrapped around the base of him while the other hand slipped between her own legs and began working her cunt while she fed on him, her fingers moving in open, shameless circles.

Tom’s hands flexed against the table.

He wanted to touch her. Needed to, almost. The order to keep still made every upward pull of her mouth harder to endure. Before the pleasure could climb too fast, he dragged his inventory open with a thought, bought the Iron Rod Pill, and got it into his mouth. The bitter edge of it hit his tongue, then heat rolled downward through his gut and locked his cock into a thicker, steadier hardness under her lips.

He could not take chances. Her mouth was too good.

Stella felt the change and made a low sound of approval around him, vibrations running along his shaft as she continued to suck with even more confidence. Saliva slicked him. Her fingers between her thighs moved faster.

She only pulled off when she was ready, her eyes lifted to his with bright command...

Then she climbed over him fully, took his cock in her hand, and sank down onto it in one wet, continuous motion.

Both of them exhaled hard at the stretch.

Stella seated herself to the base and stayed there for a second, adjusting to the thickness, her palms braced on his stomach then her eyes found his again.

"Keep your hands to yourself," she said, her voice husky with pleasure and control. "Be food. I’ll eat you the way I like."

Tom’s jaw tightened, but he obeyed.

Only then did she start to move.

She bounced on his cock with rising confidence, her thighs working, her breasts shifting with every drop of her body.

The wet sound of her cunt taking him over and over filled the room as she rode him hard enough to make the table faintly protest beneath them. True to her word, she kept one hand busy between her legs, two fingers rubbing her clit while she used his cock for the rest of her pleasure. Stella above him with her mouth hanging open, eyes half-lidded, fucking herself on his length like she had claimed the entire evening for her own appetite, that sight alone nearly undid him... Luckily for him, he had used the iron rod pill.

Tom kept his hands where she had told him to.

But It cost him.

Every instinct pushed toward her hips, her waist, the bounce of her breasts, the wet heat gripping him with each descent. He held still anyway, his muscles tight with restraint, eyes locked on the woman using him so thoroughly that there was no mistaking who was feeding and who was being eaten.

"You’re so delicious... Wayyy delicious than any food in the world." The words left Stella’s mouth without her usual elegance of speaking. She was panting heavily as she rode him harder, her fingers still working her clit, the rhythm growing messier and more desperate as her own pleasure climbed.

And through it all Tom remained spread under her on the table, forced to take the view, the heat, and the sweet violence of being wanted in exactly the way she chose.