Humpday Story: The Glowing Satisfaction of Pancakes

TheGlowingSatisfactionOfPancakes_Coverv1Kyle wakes up early every morning. Karen doesn’t. On the weekend, their different schedules make activities difficult. But maybe the smell of fresh breakfast could entice Karen out of bed. At least that’s his plan.

But breakfast doesn’t end with just pancakes. Satisfying Karen takes so much more.

If you enjoy smart and sexy erotica, you will enjoy reading The Glowing Satisfaction of Pancakes.




Kyle mixed the batter. The coffee maker chugged and gurgled, the dark roast aroma bringing a smile to his face as he made breakfast for two. Bacon sizzled on the griddle. A bowl of fresh strawberries, cantaloupe, and honey melon sat at the nook next to a whipped cream can.

Already nine in the morning. The sports news played on the TV in the background. He’d wasted enough time, reading and watching the news. The mornings of his days off were always the slowest.

Sleepy-head upstairs would be down soon enough.

Karen had kept him up late at night, in the hopes he’d sleep in like a “normal person.” Bless her heart, she tried. He was a little tired, but completely and utterly wide awake.

He couldn’t help it. He was a morning man.

Since they moved in together, they developed an understanding. He woke up at six whether he needed to go to work or not, and kept the noise down so she could sleep. She burned the midnight oil playing video games, with or without him.

Right above his head, something fell from the bed. The weak spot in the floorboards creaked under the pitter-patter of her feet. The toilet flushed. Her electric toothbrush vibrated.

Kyle set out two glasses of orange juice.

The feet clunked down the stairs. To be small boned and only five-four, Karen made a lot of noise.

He was washing dishes when she strolled into the kitchen. She greeted him with a hard smack on the ass.

“Good morning, sunshine,” said Kyle.

“Yup,” she said, throat raspy. Karen opened the fridge and stared inside. She wore her pink fluffy robe, tied just enough to reveal her flat bosom.

He didn’t care for her padded bras, much preferring her teacup sized boobs the way they were. But she thought her bras made her look sexy, and Kyle was smart enough not to argue.

“Juice on the counter.” He pointed to the nook.

“Ugh, huh,” she said, slamming the fridge door shut. She shambled over to the nook and chugged her glass of juice. She sucked in a breath through her nostrils, stood in a tree pose, and slammed back his glass too.

“Coffee’s about ready.”


He poured her a cup and mixed in cream the way she liked it.

Color flushed to her cheeks when she brought the cup to her lips and drank. Karen’s face glowed. For her, caffeine was an aphrodisiac.

More precisely, a means to squeezing in more sex after work and after the sun went down. She had to work off the excess energy from video games somehow, or so she told him often enough.

“How do you do it?” Karen said.

“Say what?” he said, hiding behind his own mug.

“I fuck you three ways silly last night. And yet you’re up at the ass-crack of dawn. How do I defeat you?”

Kyle shrugged. “Precision and grace?” The first reference to one of her favorite games, that he could think of.

“Fuck you!” Karen threw a kitchen rag at him. Square in the face. He caught it one handed, but only after it fell past his hips.

“Glad you’re in a good mood this morning,” he said.

“And if I was in a bad mood?” she said.

“Run for shelter?” He turned his back to her and poured batter on the griddle.

“Oh, I’d find you.”

The sunlight now came in through the window, entirely too bright. A crisp stream of light that made a rainbow in his kitchen sink. He closed the blinds. The room darkened only slightly. But at least the sun couldn’t peep in.

“You already done with your first?” he said.

“Yes, please.” She pushed her coffee cup towards him. Half gone. He freshened it anyway, taking the opportunity to glance down at her half open robe. Karen thanked him profusely and took a careful sip.

Kyle flipped the pancakes. “Any plans? You know. Day off and all.”

“Oh, I have plans,” Karen twiddled her fingers together like a cute mad genius.

“And you’ll let me know?”

“Soon as my belly is full.”

A minute later, Kyle handed her a short stack with two crispy pieces of bacon. Karen dabbed a smidgen of butter on the top pancake, and then flooded the plate with syrup. Then she piled a handful of fresh fruit and whipped cream on top of everything.

Kyle sat down next to her with his own plate of bacon and pancakes.

“More joe, please.” She placed her cup next to his. The coffee pot sat within arm’s reach of both of them.

“I think you need to slow down, short-round,” Kyle said.

“I’ll flash a boob if you pour me coffee.”

“We have a deal!”

He poured coffee, one eye on what he was doing, one eye on what she was doing. As best he could, at any rate.

Spilled not a drop.

Karen pulled back one side of her pink robe. Just enough for Kyle to spot the pink nipple crowning the tiny mound. He reached out to cop a feel. The fuzzy robe tickled the end of fingers…

She slapped his hand away.

“I said nothing about touching,” she said.

“I was sure you did,” said Kyle.


“What’s it cost to touch?”

Karen shoved a bite full of pancake into her mouth and chewed slow. She made the appearance of thinking—thumb under chin, eyes pointed up, cute dimples in her cheeks.

He was certain she’d never answer.

“Look, buddy,” she said at last. Karen drank some coffee. “I worked damn hard last night. All for naught, apparently. You can let a girl eat.”

“What do you want to eat?” Kyle said, lifting an eyebrow and winking.

“Pancakes.” Karen back-hand slapped him and turned away. “Seriously, I’m hungry.”

“Me too.”



“So, shut up already.”

Kyle and Karen ate, mostly in wicked silence. He glanced at her, she at him. They washed away the taste of syrup with cantaloupe.

He fed her one last piece of fruit. And then he picked up her plate.

“Leave it,” said Karen. She stood, loosening the robe. “Come into the living room.”


“I’ll show the cost of touching.” Karen picked up the can of whipped cream.


Kyle got towels from the upstairs bathroom and hurried back down. His girlfriend was spread out on the couch, hands behind her head, feet crossed. The whipped cream sat on the coffee table.

The drapes were drawn shut tight. Scented candles burned over the mantlepiece. One might’ve been hickory. The other was almost certainly the lavender one he bought for her birthday. He never could be certain of scents.

Karen wiggled her toes at him.

He stood in the doorway, towels under one arm, erection already popping up. How could he be in the mood after last night?

“What’s the price?” he said. “For touching.”

“You’ll see,” said Karen. She didn’t move. The image of pure laziness. Well deserved, he might add.

“You don’t even know, don’t you?”

“I like to make this up as I go.”

“So I’ve noticed lately.”

“You don’t approve?” She sat upright, as if doing a sit-up. The robe slipped, revealing her creamy skin. Her tone was serious, high pitched a bit. He had no idea if she were teasing him.

“If I didn’t?”

Karen smirked, and lifted her chin. “You like it. Say it.”

“I like it very much.”

“Say my name.”

“Now you’re being silly.”

She pulled the robe tight across her bosom and crossed her arms. The pout on her face was to die for. Innocent and wicked at the same time.


“You give up too easy.”

“Guess I’m easy like that.”

Karen crossed her legs under her. Indian style, like they used to call in school.

Kyle tossed the towels on the edge of the sofa. He remained standing, hands crossed in front of him.

“Well don’t be,” she said. “I’ll get bored.”

“Don’t want that.” He wanted to follow up with some snarky response. Nothing came to mind, so he remained silent. And waited for Karen to take the lead. Something she excelled at. “Tell, what’s the price?”

“Now you’re jumping ahead of yourself,” said Karen. “You have another price to pay entirely.”

“What’s that?”

“I’m cold.” She shrugged her shoulders high and hugged herself. The room temperature was perfectly fine. Kyle was a little warm, if anything.

He suspected the warmth had nothing to do with the heat kicking in or the air conditioner not working. His erection had gone down, back to normal. From the glance downward, he guessed Karen had noticed.

She made him warm. The way she looked at him. The posture she was in, like a princess waiting to be waited on. The damned candles got to his head, making him feel woozy.

No. Not woozy. This was different, and he’d experienced it plenty of times around Karen. Now they’d been together for a year, and lived in the same house for the last month.

His girlfriend had an uncanny way of making him feel small. Despite her short stature and wiry frame. She had a strong chin and a big nose. Patrician. People who didn’t know her, assumed she was arrogant. Or stuck up.

Kyle knew better.

She volunteered at the animal shelter. Wanted to adopt cats, but patiently waited for the “right one” to need a home. She generously loaned money to friends, and never expected to paid back. She was shrewd at business, and gave to charity.

“What are you staring at?” Karen said.

Kyle got down on his knees. He took both her hands in his. Her finger bones were so small and delicate compared to his rough hands. The nails were painted bright red, the skin satin smooth except for the left fingertips, the guitar calluses.

He kissed her knuckles.

“That’s a start,” she said.

“How much debt do I have to go?”

“Don’t think about that. Think about what you’re going to do to me.”

“With pleasure. Might have to stop thinking though.”

“What do you mean?”

“Too much thinking, I’ll stop doing.”

He kissed her wrist. The fuzzy robe tickled his nose. He sneezed, turning his head away just in time.

“That was sexy,” he said. He pushed the sleeve up her arm.

“But can you recover?” she said, false mockery in her voice.

“You have doubts?”

Karen responded with a half grin, and tilted her head to one side.

He placed his hands on her knees and parted the robe just slightly. She wore nothing underneath, naked. Her privates were prickly with hair. She had shaved down there as an experiment, and now it was growing back. Kyle didn’t let her shave him.

Karen had been disappointed, but didn’t take it as a rejection. They had worked on their relationship in small steps, earning trust little by little.

Wow, had it payed off.

Kyle kissed her ankle. Another, lower. Still lower. Over the tan lines on her feet, where her strappy sandals covered. He knew what was coming.

She bucked and kicked her foot away.

“Hey!” she said, squirming. “That’s not part of the price.”

“Give me some direction.”

Karen nodded. The wicked grin played across her face again. “Go north, young man.”

He kissed her ankle again, and avoided touching her foot. Little, soft kisses up. One hand on the back of her calf, the other stroking around the kneecap. He did the same with the other leg, going only to the knees.

Karen played with his hair the whole time. Stroking, pulling, grabbing a fistful of hair. She yanked his head, to focus his kisses where she wanted.

He massaged her leg muscles. Her waxed skin was smooth to the touch, luxurious. Easy on the fingers and lips. She still tasted like the wild sex party from last night. 

Tasted like a mixture of her and him.

Then he pressed further north. Head between her legs now, alternating his kisses on her thighs. Until he focused on one leg, closer to the sweet spot. She quivered beneath him, fingers pulling apart the robe more. One of her fingers brushed her clit, just once, but not very long.

Kyle pulled away.

“No, no, no,” Karen said. “You’re not done yet.”

“I know what the price is,” he said, voice husky. Needy. “And we’re both going to pay it.”

He picked up the whipped cream can.

“Oh God,” she said.


Karen spread her legs apart. The robe split, revealing all of her bottom. Kyle pulled the sash. The rest of the robe fell apart lazily.

“So,” said Karen, “what’s my price, big boy?”

“The price,” he said, spraying a dollop of cream on one of her nipples, “is to tease the hell out of you.” Another dollop, on the other nipple.

“I like this.” She pressed the cream with her middle fingers, and licked one, then the other.

Kyle pressed his lips against her belly button, kissing. Karen squirmed under his touch, sucking in her stomach. Laughter, clear and happy, erupted from her. He shook the can and sprayed cream on her navel.

“Don’t I taste good enough?” she said.

“Well, we could both use a shower,” he said.

Karen smacked him on the side of the head and laughed some more. Yes, a shower. This was going to be a long day. Why did he have to wake up so early?

He kissed the cream. It stuck to his lips like a weird, foamy goatee. The mouth prints he left leading down to her pussy were wet and hardly looked like a proper mouth. Too saggy and droopy, like bad finger painting.

“Give me the cream,” said Karen.


“What do you mean? Don’t you trust me?”

Kyle chuckled in response. He shook the can, and sprayed lower. A white, puffy line straight down from her navel to clit. And sprayed more, this time concentric circles on top of her pussy lips.

He pressed his face into her. The honeypot smelled like a combination of sweet sugar and wet girl fluids. He flicked his tongue across the surface.

And then dug deeper. Into the whipped cream, on her flesh. Hands on her hips now, he pressed inside her, licking her inside and out. His erection returned, at full attention. Kyle was vaguely aware when she took the whipped cream can from his hand.

He didn’t fight her for it. Too distracted anyway.

Karen moaned. A wild, erotic sound loud enough to wake up neighbors. She ran her fingers through his hair. Gentle at first. The harder he licked, sucked, and fingered her, the more she tugged his hair. Her legs wrapped tighter, clutching him close.

Until she pulled his head away.

“Hey, I…” Kyle said. 

Karen sprayed whipped into his mouth. Whatever was on his mind, was now lost.

“Shut up,” she said. “Spread those towels on the couch.”

Off came his shirt. He obeyed her command, with a satisfied smile. As he bent over to arrange the towels, she pulled down his pajamas and smacked his bare ass.

Karen got him to lay down on his back. She sat on the far of the couch, leaned forward, and sprayed whipped cream up and down his cock.

The sensation was cool and pleasant, like a moist and fluffy towel slapped onto his privates. She leaned forward and licked it all up, one lap at a time. Cream of both kinds slid down his shaft to his balls and down to his anus.

Karen licked off the last. But he had more to give. She sprayed a line of whipped cream up from his navel to throat. His erection throbbed, and he wanted to touch himself. Instead, he crossed his fingers under his head and waited patiently while Karen kissed and licked her way up his stomach.

He closed his eyes, and an eternity passed of sweet bliss. When she reached his throat, Karen grabbed his shaft and slipped him inside her.

Just the tip at first. Down, slow. She retreated. Through slitted eyes, Kyle enjoyed the torturous expressions on her face. He jabbed upwards, balls deep into Karen.

She grunted, and pressed her hips down harder on him. The pussy juice dripped down his balls now. Wet slapping sounds, skin on skin, became faster and desperate.

On top of the sugar, cock, and pussy smells; now the living room smelled of sweat. Kyle’s body heated up as if from a fever. He fondled her breasts. The nipples were swollen and erect, and too hot to touch.

Faster she pumped. 

Up. Down. Up. 

He met her action with his own thrusts. Soon, they got into a see-saw rhythm with each other.

Karen pressed her palms into his chest, slowing the pace, easing up on cock. She gyrated her hips, yanking him to and fro. A devious smile curled her lips.

The pressure on his cock and balls built, throbbing.The excruciating pleasure was almost too much, and every bit as fun as last night.

Kyle grabbed her waist, stopping her motions. He sat upright, shooing her off of him. Turning her around roughly, he tore the fluffy pink robe from her body and tossed it aside.

He grabbed her hair and pushed her onto the couch, on her knees and hands. Karen reached around and grabbed his junk, pulling him toward her.

Entering from behind Karen, this time on his terms. Kyle pinned her to the couch, and slammed into her pussy.

Edging her. Teasing with the head. Quick pumps followed by slow, deliberate thrusts. Kyle lost all track of time. His entire body became hot. Karen moaned and whined nonsense, head down.

Kyle couldn’t take the head anymore. His need became wild. Grabbing her ass in both hands, he fucked Karen harder.

She tossed her hair back, looking at him from over her shoulder. Eyes slitted. Breathe ragged.

Her pussy tightened on him. Hot juice poured out.

Kyle blew his load deep inside her.

And kept fucking. Easing off, a little at a time. Her pussy relaxed and tightened again.

He slipped out of her. His head felt light. Woozy.

Karen laid down on her back, arms behind her head. She blew him a kiss.

Kyle lay down on top of her, head on one flat breast. He closed his eyes, breathing already turning to snoring. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, like a warm cocoon.

So that was the price? Pancakes… and a mid-morning nap on her breasts.


Copyright © 2016 Hermit Muse Publishing

Cover image © Art Studia Group/BigStockPhoto

Thank you for reading! If you would like to purchase this story, you can find it at your favorite retailer. Or feel free to leave a tip with the PayPal button below.


Author: D. Anthony Brown

Indie writer and publisher. Among other jack-of-all-trade skills...

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