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A blowjob and a hot meal. What more could a guy ask for?
I wrapped the towel around my waist and stepped into my cell.
Ivy stood at the stove, stirring a pot.
She’d put on one of my T-shirts. It was far too big for her and reached the middle of her thighs.
I couldn’t stop staring at her bare legs.
In an instant, I was hard as a rock.
“What did you make?”
I’d never heard of a Prize cooking a meal before.
Usually, they only performed… different actions.
I approached her from behind and wrapped my arms around her and felt her naked body underneath.
I sniffed the base of her neck. Damn, did she smell good.
I loved that I could embrace her the way I wanted and there was no longer a feeling of awkwardness between us.
“It’s nothing much,” Ivy said.
“I didn’t know I had enough ingredients for a meal.”
“Barely. But I made do. Do you have a bigger spoon than this?”
“Sure, I have one.”
I tugged my towel off and let it fall to the floor. I placed my cock against her ass and ground against her.
Ivy groaned breathily as I reached up and pinched her nipples in both my hands.
My cock slid between her legs, but not yet inside her.
I just wanted her to feel me.
“Get… Get dressed,” she said. “The meal… will be done in a minute.”
I reached in through the hole in the top of my T-shirt she wore and grasped a handful of her breast.
I turned her face to me and kissed her with plenty of tongue. She reciprocated.
She wiggled her hips side to side, grinding against me.
“The meal will get cold,” Ivy said, her eyes shut and enjoying the sensation.
“Let it.”
I lifted her T-shirt to expose her ass and placed my cock against her opening, already slick for me.
Then she turned to me and admonished me with a wagging finger.
“Dinner first.”
“And then dessert?”
