Taste My Muffin

Candy Manson isn’t just a knockout with curves that make you stop mid-step; she knows how to bake. She shows up at Brandy’s place carrying a plate of warm muffins, all soft and buttery. Brandy takes one bite, smiles, then a lazy dollop of cool whip slips off her spoon and lands right on the swell of her breasts. The white cream slides between those full, heavy mounds like it has plans of its own. Candy sees it, licks her lips, and decides the mess is hers to fix. She leans in, tongue flat, dragging slow and greedy along Brandy’s skin. The cool sweetness meets warm flesh; Brandy’s breath catches. Candy keeps going, tongue circling one stiff nipple, then the other, until every trace of whipped cream is gone and her mouth is full of heat instead. She slides lower, spreading Brandy’s thighs, burying her face where the real sweetness waits, licking deep and steady while Brandy rocks against her tongue. Every moan pushes Candy harder, until the only thing left on Brandy’s body is the flush of wanting more.