personal buffet

fem: You didn’t realize the effect you had on him. When you met him, it was like he had become obsessed with you. And it only got worse after you married him.

You would cook dinner for him every day. You constantly made his lunches and served him breakfast. But he would give you a look after finishing his food—a look of hunger.

You did your best to ignore that look. You started having leftovers just in case. But that look still haunted you.

What made the power more noticeable was how he would always sleep so close to you. Your back pressed to his stomach, his face in your neck, the breath you felt, his hands holding you tight at the waist.

It was wild. You made him crazy. With the haunting gaze of continuous hunger and the way he slept behind you, it was almost driving you crazy, too. You thought it was surely your scent, so you changed your perfume, chose different shower essentials, and ended up with a new smell. But he was still really into you—obsessed?

So maybe you shouldn’t think much of it. Maybe this is what couples are meant to do.

———

Since you cooked for him, he had stopped going out after work; he would just come straight home and eat the dinner you prepared.

And today wouldn’t be any different. You made lasagna and a Caesar salad. You paired it with a glass of bourbon, which he would drink every night. Then you heard the jingle of his keys. He’s finally home.

Fixing your apron, you stood next to his chair like you always had. He finally opened the door, stepping inside and putting down whatever he had brought from work.

He immediately heads to the kitchen. The routine continued. Everything was on schedule, then he stopped and looked at you. His eyes traveled down your figure.

You didn’t know what to do; all you could do was ask him. “Is everything okay?” You ask, starting to panic internally. Was something wrong?

He didn’t answer, just started striding toward you, loosening his tie. In a swift motion, he cleared the table. The lasagna stained the floor instantly, followed by his plate shattering and his glass of bourbon spilling all over the floor.

He pushed you onto the table, sat in his chair, and practically tore your pants off. He stops, looking at your panties and cautiously touching your thighs.

“Where did you get these?” he whispers in a voice you’ve never heard his throat make.

“I... I don’t know...” you answered cowardly.

Because your answer didn’t lead him closer to the brand, he decided not to care about the panties, but instead ripped them off your body. He spread your legs and admired the heat of your core.

Within seconds, his mouth was attacking the folds of your beautiful center. You let out a squeal from unexpected pleasure. The sound didn’t faze him; he just kept eating at your void.

Your hands found his hair, tugging from the pleasure. He swatted your hands away from his head so he could focus on the only meal that could fix this hunger within him. Your fingers grazed the edges of the table before you grasped onto it for leverage.

His hands landed onto your thighs once more to squeeze them while he unravels your inner coil.

Your core started to throb at the attention it was getting. You were reaching a high. But he didn’t stop; he ignored all your pleas for him to let the climax take over your body. He didn’t let you force it out.

Your eyes began to roll back, and tears started to form. You’ve never felt this pleasure before. He continued to nibble at you before your body physically couldn’t take it anymore. The coil unravels, and your juices spill onto his face.

Only then did he stop; he finally let go of your thighs and leaned back. He wiped his face with the apron you were wearing and started to catch his breath.

You lay on the table, stuck in the clarity he pushed your body towards.

masc: You didn’t realize the effect you had on him. When you met him, it was like he had become obsessed with you. And it only got worse after you married him.

You would cook dinner for him every day. You constantly made his lunches and served him breakfast. But he would give you a look after finishing his food—a look of hunger.

You did your best to ignore that look. You started having leftovers just in case. But that look still haunted you.

What made the power more noticeable was how he would always sleep so close to you. Your back pressed to his stomach, his face in your neck, the breath you felt, his hands holding you tight at the waist.

It was wild. You made him crazy. With the haunting gaze of continuous hunger and the way he slept behind you, it was almost driving you crazy, too. You thought it was surely your scent, so you changed your cologne, chose different shower essentials, and ended up with a new smell. But he was still really into you—obsessed?

So maybe you shouldn’t think much of it. Maybe this is what couples are meant to do.

———

Since you cooked for him, he had stopped going out after work; he would just come straight home and eat the dinner you prepared.

And today wouldn’t be any different. You made lasagna and a Caesar salad. You paired it with a glass of bourbon, which he would drink every night. Then you heard the jingle of his keys. He’s finally home.

Fixing your apron, you stood next to his chair like you always had. He finally opened the door, stepping inside and putting down whatever he had brought from work.

He immediately heads to the kitchen. The routine continued. Everything was on schedule, then he stopped and looked at you. His eyes traveled down your figure.

You didn’t know what to do; all you could do was ask him. “Is everything okay?” You ask, starting to panic internally. Was something wrong?

He didn’t answer, just started striding toward you, loosening his tie. In a swift motion, he cleared the table. The lasagna stained the floor instantly, followed by his plate shattering and his glass of bourbon spilling all over the floor.

He pushed you onto the table, sat in his chair, and practically tore your pants off. He stops, looking at your boxers and cautiously touching your thighs.

“Where did you get these?” he whispers in a voice you’ve never heard his throat make.

“I... I don’t know...” you answered cowardly.

Because your answer didn’t lead him closer to the brand, he decided not to care about the boxers, but instead ripped them off your body. He spread your legs and admired the length of your .

Within seconds, he swallowed down your member. You let out a squeal from unexpected pleasure. The sound didn’t faze him; he just kept sucking you dry.

Your hands found his hair, tugging from the pleasure. He swatted your hands away from his head so he could focus on the only meal that could fix this hunger within him. Your fingers grazed the edges of the table before you grasped onto it for leverage.

His hands landed onto your thighs once more to squeeze them while he unravels your inner coil.

Your started to throb at the attention it was getting. You were reaching a high. But he didn’t stop; he ignored all your pleas for him to let the climax take over your body. He didn’t let you force it out.

Your eyes began to roll back, and tears started to form. You’ve never felt this pleasure before. He continued to nibble at you before your body physically couldn’t take it anymore. The coil unravels, and your explodes all inside his mouth.

Only then did he stop; he finally let go of your thighs and leaned back. He wiped his face with the apron you were wearing and started to catch his breath.

You lay on the table, stuck in the clarity he pushed your body towards.