Daisy was sitting at the end of my table like a garden!
(I’ve given this TER babe the alias “Daisy” because she loves Hollandaise Sauce and because it’s quite obvious to me that she’s the spirit of a flower.)

I had made her a tasty dinner and we had eaten and smoked and were talking about love letters.  I asked if she’d like some Strawberry Shortcake for dessert and her face transformed with a vibrant peacefulness.  She must’ve had some amazing memories of Strawberry Shortcake because it was as if she became a child before me!  She nodded “YES” with such a glow that I got a little choked up.   Her eyes were wide and crisp.  Her smile spread and the bright colors of the tattoo on her arm dribbled down her skin like hot wax.  For just an instant I saw her in a little birthday party dress with little 10-year-old hands.  But then she was back…tattoo dancing on her arm and her face like a warm wind.

I’ve barely met her and I’ve got a crush on her.  That’s not unusual because I’m a damn people person, but I’ve got a volatile heart and I might be in trouble with Daisy because I like Hollandaise Sauce too.

She asked if I needed some help and I said that all I need to do is make the whipped cream.  I pulled the sweet biscuits out of the oven and put them on the table.  I got the mixing bowl and the beaters out from the freezer and poured the thick cream in.
We talked about a petite blonde woman that Daisy lusted after and how they used to be lovers.
I pulled the big bowl of clean strawberries, soaking in my super special homemade syrup, and set them in the center of the table.
Daisy continued, “I’m just like a man, I want all the cute young things for myself!”
I put some confectioner’s with the cream and started up the mixer.  I moved the beaters around the bowl.  The noise made the conversation pause.

I looked back and she was smiling at me.  Her lips were motionless but tight.  What an innocent look.  Too innocent if you ask me.  I bet she stole a strawberry.  Unbelievable.

I dribbled a touch of vanilla in the whipped cream as it began to peak.  I turned back to Daisy to say, “Almost ready” and caught her putting a strawberry in her mouth.
    “Cut that out!”
    “I’m sorry!” she grinned.
She wasn’t sorry.  Just terrible.  I finished the cream and brought it to the table.
And then she did something so blatant, so brazen, that my jaw dropped.  Right in front of me, without shame or apology, she pilfered another strawberry and popped it in her mouth.  She didn’t even try to hide it or wait for me to turn away.  What a hussy.
I set the bowl of whipped cream down and took a step to her—
She quickly put her hands in her lap.
“I’m sorry”, she blurted out sheepishly, “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry.”
I shook my head in disgust, “What do I have to do to--”  I stopped my thought and instead I snatched up a bit of cotton rope from the bureau and took her wrist.
    “Hey!” she said.
I tied her wrist to the table leg at her side as she rolled her eyes at me, giggling.
“Come on!” she whined, “Stop fooling around.”
She reached over to untie my knot and I took her other wrist.
“Oh no you don’t”, she laughed!

Now, Daisy’s strong but thankfully I had two arms free and was able to pull her arm as I moved to the opposite side of her chair.  As I began to tie her second wrist to the other table leg she broke free from my grasp, reached into the bowl of berries and swiped another one!  Absolute insolent behavior from a grown woman.  I caught her hand before the tip of the tongue could suck the fruit into her mouth.
    “Drop the berry, Daisy”
She just moaned in disappointment with her tongue stuck out wiggling.
“Drop the berry and no one gets hurt.”
She didn’t.
I had to pry her fingers open so the berry plopped to the table, red and juicy.
I tied her wrist to the table leg while her other wrist pulled against the rope.
I licked her sticky fingers while on my hands and knees.

As I stood up she put her head down and slurped up the crushed strawberry into her mouth.  I needed both hands to wrench her jaws open.
    “Spit it out”, I said!
Her arms struggled against the ropes.
“Right NOW, Daisy!”
She reluctantly let the chomped strawberry drizzle into my cupped hand.  The broken fruit was half syrup and spit.  I took my clean hand and pulled her hair so we were face to face.
“You need to be patient, Daisy.”
She looked at me with such a glitter of excitement, I got a little chubby.

As I held the gooey strawberry in my fist I pulled out a humongous wooden salad bowl with my free arm.  The kind of bowl for ten party guests.  I wanted to make my sweetie the biggest damn Strawberry Shortcake she’d ever seen.  I lined the hot biscuits up inside.
Daisy was starting to breathe deeper.  Her eyes were smiling and her lips parted and puckered a little.  I took the wide wooden salad tong and scooped up some fresh berries and laid them over the thirsty biscuits.  I slid over the whipped cream bowl.

    “That looks good”, Daisy whispered huskily.
I kissed her temple.
    “Thank you, honey”
    “I’m getting wet, Jockeypants.  Push that bowl closer.”
I pushed it farther away and put my hand on her pussy over her baggy slacks.
She started to giggle.
I started to undo her belt and zipper.  I slipped my finger to her coochie lips to see if she was moist.  (I’d have to say, ‘yes’.)
I eased the chair out from under her so she had to stand with her collarbones near the table top, bent over, looking at the huge strawberry bowl.  The air was full of sugar.

    With my free arm I pulled her pants down and her creamy ass hung suspended like an orchid in the summer air.  I softly kissed it just to let her know that she was really the one in charge.  Her skin was so soft.  Her muscles flexing.

Then I took my warm, wet Strawberry Fist, mixed in sugar and spit, and pulled my arm back.  Just before I whacked her ass I opened my hand to let the berry splat on her butt cheek.  Her breath caught and she growled out a raspy laugh.
She pulled at her restraints while she stretched forward toward the shortcake bowl.

My God!  She’s still trying to eat Dessert without me!  Impudent, cocky, born-in-a-barn, blonde-skirt-chasing, strawberry-stealing, hussy!  Judas, she makes my cock hard!

I spanked her fanny until her moans and her laughter mixed like wildflowers.
She laid her face on the table.  I let her lick my sticky fingers while I put a big strawberry gently between my teeth.  I put my head down and offered her my lips.  We shared the fruit as she stuck her tongue in my mouth to taste the sugar and syrup.  We kissed, bent over the table and I put my sticky hands between her bum-cheeks and got some strawberry essence on her rim for later.  I squatted down to put my crotch in her restrained hand.
    “You feel my cock”, I whispered into her mouth?
    “You are fucking hard, Jockey.”
She tried to unzip me.  I helped and took off my trousers.
Little Sampson popped out.
Some men are hung like a horse.  I’m hung more like a monkey.  But I took the spoon out of the strawberry bowl and frosted my Flying Winkie.  I had to put my foot on the table to stick my cock in her mouth.  Daisy sucked to hard I thought she was gonna turn me inside-out, which is just as well ‘cause my heart is on my sleeve with this woman and my sleeve was getting sticky so I slipped off my shirt.

She lapped at my balls and I kept spooning syrup on myself until her face was covered and she inhaled every drop of my candy-coated prick.  I encouraged her by whacking her ass with the syrup spoon.  She was yanking at the table legs to get my balls in her mouth.  My knees were getting weak and I was light headed.  I needed an insulin shot.  I pulled out and came on her sticky ass-cheeks and then licked it all up and while I was at it I started in rimming her.
Ummmm Strawberry!
I slid the chair....

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