His White Luna
Chapter 23 - Pancakes

Nathaniel Black

The scent of something sweet drifted through the air, gently lulling me out of my sleep. I rolled in the bed, not remembering falling asleep in it, but more so on the floor with Alice in my arms. I groaned internally, last night had not gone as planned, not one bit.

I rolled over, hoping to see her asleep next to me, but there was nothing but cool empty sheets, her scent still lingering in the air. As much as I wanted to sleep, I needed to know where she was, I needed to make sure she hadn’t left. Not again.

Slipping out of bed, I threw a fluffy robe around my waist and opened the bedroom door. It was like being smacked in the face, the scent of pancakes wafted through the small house, and I let it carry me down the hallway into the living area, where she stood in front of the stove, watching two pancakes cooking to add to the stack.

Her silvery-white hair was tied back in a messy bun, with strands flying in every direction and wisps framing her face. She wore a black knit, runched up above her shoulders and I could see her underpants and arse as she leaned over the frypan, checking the pancakes.

Yet, the most surprising this, was the thin white bad that sat on her finger.

I couldn’t move for a second, racking my brain trying to remember if what I thought had happened last night was a dream, a nightmare, perhaps it had all gone down fine and my worries had manifested in my head, haunting my dreams. But no, I was perplexed to say the least.

She gave the frypan a small wiggled before she carefully lifted one of the pancakes, flipping it onto the uncooked side, she then lifted the next pancake, just as carefully, and flipped that. She gave herself and nod and turned around, she froze mid spin, and I could see the swallow as she looked at me, “good morning,” she croaked out.

“Good morning,” I replied, but neither of us moved.

“I’m making pancakes,” she said.

“I can see that.”

“I’ve never made pancakes before.”

I grinned, “would you like me to help?” I asked, and she nodded, adjusting her body more shyly that what I’d ever seen, it made me want to scoop her up and take her back to bed.

“I wanted to make you breakfast in bed, as an apology,” she murmured, a light blush creeping onto her face and she held out the spatula for me to take.

“No, no, you can flip them, you’re doing fine so far,” I smiled as I took the few steps into the kitchen and looked at the mess she’d made.

She looked up and beamed at me, “really? But look how bad the first one turned out,” she said, pointing at a flat and dead looking pancake on a plate.

“The first one is always a dud,” I chuckled, and I stuck my finger in the bowl of batter, and tasted it, “I’m impressed, I thought you said you didn’t cook much.”

“I didn’t,” she sighed, “but I started more last winter,” and she grabbed the fry pan and lifted the side of the pancake, trying to peak under the side as if to see if it was cooked.

I couldn’t help but smile as I watched her cook for me, as she carefully cooked each pancake giving it her one hundred percent of her attention. She stacked up two plates of pancakes, asking what I was wanted on them, and we settled for fresh blueberries, berry sauce and some whipped cream. Without a mixer, I whipped it by hand with a whisk, while she stirred the simmering berry sauce on a low heat and flipped pancakes.

“What are you putting in the cream?” she asked, once she removed the sauce from the heat and gestured towards me, mid pour.

“Vanilla and sugar, it makes it extra tasty,” I grinned, and I gave it a quick stir, finishing it up and put a blob of cream on my finger, “here, try it.”

Without hesitation, she popped my finger in her mouth, and sucked the cream off my finger, slowly pulling away, her gaze never wavering.

I slammed my lips against hers, tasting the remnants of the cream on her tongue as I explored her mouth with my tongue. She seemed to melt in my touch, and I hoisted her up onto the island bench, letting my hands roam under the jumper, gripping her breasts and teasing her nipples.

She pulled her head back, “wait,” she said, as I pressed another kiss desperately onto her lips. “The pancakes.”

“Dam, the pancakes,” I hissed, and I ripped the jumper off her torso, plunging my mouth onto her exposed chest and teasing her erect nipple between my teeth.

“No, I don’t want them to burn,” she objected as she wriggled in my arms.

A growl reverberated from my chest, and I bit lightly on her neck. Her back arched and I felt the shiver work its way down her spin, only making me hold her closer to my bare chest, her legs wrapping around my waist. I hoisted her further up my waist and carried her over to the other bench, letting her arse rest on the counter, I realised her neck and turned the hot plate off, before turning my full attention back to my mate.

It was painfully teasing to think that the only thing keeping her separated from me was her underwear and my sweatpants, her pelvis grinding against my throbbing boner didn’t help of course. I took her back across to the island bench and brushed some of the hair out of her face, before kissing her again, “is that better?”

She nodded and her throat bobbed as she swallowed, grabbing me by the shoulders, she brought me in and pressed a kiss firmly to my lips and let it trail off gentle down my jaw before she slipped on the bench, falling to her knees. Taking the waist band of my pants with her in her descent, my pants fell to my ankles, and she looked at me with a wicked smile.

I staggered as she blew a cool breath onto the tip of my length and I clutched the bench for stability as she slipped it into her mouth, teeth lightly grazing my skin as it slipped across her tongue and into the back of her throat.

Her head bobbed rhythmically and painfully slowly, my length slowly pulled from her throat , her teeth and tongue working around the head, sending spasms of pleasure through my stomach and making my legs wobble.

I felt my eyes roll back into my skull and I gripped her hair tightly, as her pace began to increase as the pressure built up, “Alice,” I moaned, “I’m about to-” but my words fell to deaf ears as per paced continued to increase. I panted for air, somehow out of breath as she brought me to a quick climax. My cock lodged in the back of her throat, a calm composure of her face as I emptied my load down her throat.

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