Who doesn't love a Twinkie?
folder
Erotica › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
3,454
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Recommended:
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Currently Reading:
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Category:
Erotica › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
3,454
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living, dead, or otherwise residing on other planes of existence (save those references to historical and/or public personages)…is strictly a matter of incredible coincidence.
Who doesn't love a Twinkie?
I swear we’ve spent at least a third of our relationship – maybe even half – in the supermarket. That male predilection towards eating everything in sight and never gaining an ounce (or not enough to truly show)? Yeah I hate it, even when the person in question is my delicious boy.
So during one such trip to fill my refrigerator again after a weekend left it bare, an interesting discovery was made.
We were making our way down the cookie aisle, and I was attempting to talk Trevor out of his usual choices of Oreos and Chips Ahoy, promising homemade chocolate chip cookies which might possibly have some nutritional value, when he stopped in front of the Hostess display at the end of the aisle.
You guessed it.
He held up a box of Twinkies, his mouth pursing in amusement.
“You never told me it was an actual thing, pikkie,” he said, teasingly accusatory.
“Didn’t I? Must have slipped my mind,” I responded, not looking his way for fear I’d begin laughing. “Haven’t eaten a Twinkie in years.”
“You must have missed it then,” he quipped, tossing the box into the cart.
“Oh no. Those things are bad for you.”
“Is that what it is? Am I bad?”
He held me from behind, grinding into my ass. This is why we only go shopping late at night now.
“Mad, bad and dangerous to know,” I quoted. He snickered into my ear then his tongue teased before his speech, following the curve of my lobe.
“Doesn’t seem to have harmed you, milady. If anything, I’d say you’ve gotten even sexier.”
I leaned on the handle of the shopping cart, my face in my hands, hot from my furious blush. It was true…some mornings I could swear I was glowing from hormones and endorphins and whatever else he brought forth in me to experience joy. The mere fact of him was intoxication of a perfectly legal kind. I only hoped my euphoria wasn’t too obvious to everyone, there would be questions. Luckily most people were far too intimidated by me to attempt to pry.
“All praise to the twinkie,” I said, my voice heavy with affectionate mockery.
“Yes I’ll take the credit, thank you. I’ll take everything I can get.” He grabbed my ass and squeezed, making me yelp.
“And you do – including all my food. Now what else did you want…here at the store.”
His mouth was open, ready with an obscene retort, but then he started laughing and I had to stop and kiss him, even though it turned a bit intense and gratuitous and I hoped whomever watching the security cameras was enjoying the show.
“So what was so good about these?” he asked, looking at the box as we stood in line at the register.
“Well look at it, Trev, what does it remind you of?”
He frowned, examining the picture. I looked over and realized it wasn’t showing the snack in the way which would allow him to make the obvious connection. Yet even perplexed he was adorable. It makes me think of a Prince song.
I don’t wanna make love to ya
I just wanna look at ya, I just wanna listen to ya, uhhhh!
I took the box from his hands and opened it, taking out one of the cakes. I held it up and he continued to look confused. I tore off the wrapper and ran my tongue along the top. I could see the meaning finally begin to take hold as his eyes twinkled and his infectious grin was equally bright.
“But how does it taste?”
I began fellating the Twinkie, sliding it in and out of my mouth, moaning in my throat. The cashier, ringing up the guy in front of us, stopped…her hand on the phone. I figured if we got thrown out of the store it might as well be hilarious. Trevor stood, arms folded across his chest, his smile wide enough to nearly obscure his beautiful face, which – trust me on this – is very difficult to accomplish.
“Tastes good, does it?” he then asked, and I said mmmmm.
The guy ahead of us grabbed his bag and left, and the cashier tried to remain completely expressionless as she rang up our groceries, including the opened box of Twinkies. I had managed to suck a hole in one end and smeared my lips with cream filling. Trevor laughed and when the girl announced the total he paused and pulled out his wallet.
“I dunno who I should pay, you or her.”
We all tried not to laugh. I held up the car keys and in my best patrician tone proclaimed:
“Be a good boy, and go put those in the car.”
Trevor chuckled, understanding the subtext of you are mine and everyone is going to damn well know it.
“Yes milady.”
He sauntered away with the cart and we all paused to watch his ass, encased in jeans so tight I feared for his reproductive viability. I set down the Twinkie and handed the cashier the exact amount…I’m annoyingly precise that way.
“Do you have a trashcan?”
She held it up after taking my money and I chucked it in.
“Bleh, I hate those things.”
“So he likes them?” the bagger asked.
“He is one. Have a lovely night, ladies.”
“Not as good as yours, I bet,” the cashier noted, and I chuckled – lewd and low – to watch her clean off the counter as I walked away.
There was a tall, dark and beautiful boy leaning against my car, twirling my keys in one hand while the other held a Twinkie, a bite or two missing. He took another bite as I approached and his expression immediately crinkled in distaste.
“These taste awful,” he informed me after choking it down.
“I think you have to be a kid to truly appreciate them. They used to taste better.”
“Yeah? But really, why do you call me that?”
“It’s an American thing, I guess. Who doesn’t love a Twinkie?”
“Yeah?” Another smile, thoroughly seductive and dazzling.
“Yeah. And you know I think you’re delicious.” I held out my hand for the keys.
“I wanna drive.”
“Why?”
“So you can eat the best Twinkie.”
I laughed. “Oh no, we both know it’s impossible to drive and have an orgasm at the same time.”
“In ten minutes?”
“You’re 21 and I’m really good at what I do.”
He took me in his arms. “Yes, yes you are.”
I took the keys as he kissed me, licking the inside of each other’s mouths.
“It tastes much better secondhand,” he opined as we broke the kiss after someone yelled get a fucking room from across the parking lot.
“We already have one, thanks,” I shot back, then looked up into those warm brown eyes. “Yes let’s go home and find out what else tastes better secondhand.”
Who doesn’t love a Twinkie? But you, dear reader…you’ll have to get your own.
So during one such trip to fill my refrigerator again after a weekend left it bare, an interesting discovery was made.
We were making our way down the cookie aisle, and I was attempting to talk Trevor out of his usual choices of Oreos and Chips Ahoy, promising homemade chocolate chip cookies which might possibly have some nutritional value, when he stopped in front of the Hostess display at the end of the aisle.
You guessed it.
He held up a box of Twinkies, his mouth pursing in amusement.
“You never told me it was an actual thing, pikkie,” he said, teasingly accusatory.
“Didn’t I? Must have slipped my mind,” I responded, not looking his way for fear I’d begin laughing. “Haven’t eaten a Twinkie in years.”
“You must have missed it then,” he quipped, tossing the box into the cart.
“Oh no. Those things are bad for you.”
“Is that what it is? Am I bad?”
He held me from behind, grinding into my ass. This is why we only go shopping late at night now.
“Mad, bad and dangerous to know,” I quoted. He snickered into my ear then his tongue teased before his speech, following the curve of my lobe.
“Doesn’t seem to have harmed you, milady. If anything, I’d say you’ve gotten even sexier.”
I leaned on the handle of the shopping cart, my face in my hands, hot from my furious blush. It was true…some mornings I could swear I was glowing from hormones and endorphins and whatever else he brought forth in me to experience joy. The mere fact of him was intoxication of a perfectly legal kind. I only hoped my euphoria wasn’t too obvious to everyone, there would be questions. Luckily most people were far too intimidated by me to attempt to pry.
“All praise to the twinkie,” I said, my voice heavy with affectionate mockery.
“Yes I’ll take the credit, thank you. I’ll take everything I can get.” He grabbed my ass and squeezed, making me yelp.
“And you do – including all my food. Now what else did you want…here at the store.”
His mouth was open, ready with an obscene retort, but then he started laughing and I had to stop and kiss him, even though it turned a bit intense and gratuitous and I hoped whomever watching the security cameras was enjoying the show.
“So what was so good about these?” he asked, looking at the box as we stood in line at the register.
“Well look at it, Trev, what does it remind you of?”
He frowned, examining the picture. I looked over and realized it wasn’t showing the snack in the way which would allow him to make the obvious connection. Yet even perplexed he was adorable. It makes me think of a Prince song.
I don’t wanna make love to ya
I just wanna look at ya, I just wanna listen to ya, uhhhh!
I took the box from his hands and opened it, taking out one of the cakes. I held it up and he continued to look confused. I tore off the wrapper and ran my tongue along the top. I could see the meaning finally begin to take hold as his eyes twinkled and his infectious grin was equally bright.
“But how does it taste?”
I began fellating the Twinkie, sliding it in and out of my mouth, moaning in my throat. The cashier, ringing up the guy in front of us, stopped…her hand on the phone. I figured if we got thrown out of the store it might as well be hilarious. Trevor stood, arms folded across his chest, his smile wide enough to nearly obscure his beautiful face, which – trust me on this – is very difficult to accomplish.
“Tastes good, does it?” he then asked, and I said mmmmm.
The guy ahead of us grabbed his bag and left, and the cashier tried to remain completely expressionless as she rang up our groceries, including the opened box of Twinkies. I had managed to suck a hole in one end and smeared my lips with cream filling. Trevor laughed and when the girl announced the total he paused and pulled out his wallet.
“I dunno who I should pay, you or her.”
We all tried not to laugh. I held up the car keys and in my best patrician tone proclaimed:
“Be a good boy, and go put those in the car.”
Trevor chuckled, understanding the subtext of you are mine and everyone is going to damn well know it.
“Yes milady.”
He sauntered away with the cart and we all paused to watch his ass, encased in jeans so tight I feared for his reproductive viability. I set down the Twinkie and handed the cashier the exact amount…I’m annoyingly precise that way.
“Do you have a trashcan?”
She held it up after taking my money and I chucked it in.
“Bleh, I hate those things.”
“So he likes them?” the bagger asked.
“He is one. Have a lovely night, ladies.”
“Not as good as yours, I bet,” the cashier noted, and I chuckled – lewd and low – to watch her clean off the counter as I walked away.
There was a tall, dark and beautiful boy leaning against my car, twirling my keys in one hand while the other held a Twinkie, a bite or two missing. He took another bite as I approached and his expression immediately crinkled in distaste.
“These taste awful,” he informed me after choking it down.
“I think you have to be a kid to truly appreciate them. They used to taste better.”
“Yeah? But really, why do you call me that?”
“It’s an American thing, I guess. Who doesn’t love a Twinkie?”
“Yeah?” Another smile, thoroughly seductive and dazzling.
“Yeah. And you know I think you’re delicious.” I held out my hand for the keys.
“I wanna drive.”
“Why?”
“So you can eat the best Twinkie.”
I laughed. “Oh no, we both know it’s impossible to drive and have an orgasm at the same time.”
“In ten minutes?”
“You’re 21 and I’m really good at what I do.”
He took me in his arms. “Yes, yes you are.”
I took the keys as he kissed me, licking the inside of each other’s mouths.
“It tastes much better secondhand,” he opined as we broke the kiss after someone yelled get a fucking room from across the parking lot.
“We already have one, thanks,” I shot back, then looked up into those warm brown eyes. “Yes let’s go home and find out what else tastes better secondhand.”
Who doesn’t love a Twinkie? But you, dear reader…you’ll have to get your own.