Temptation

Residing in a small house near the edge of the city with her dedanya, Lucie’s possessed a room at the back of the single story building. The structure, more cottage than house really, was surrounded on two side by thick rose bushes, the splashes of color giving the quaint dwelling almost a story book feel.

Pulling into the driveway with her small car, Lucie picked her bag up and went into the house. Inside she kicked off her shoes and went directly to her room where she set the bag down on her low dresser and fished Michael out.

Turning on the top of the short piece of furniture, Michael looked around the room. While the space was certainly cluttered by books and jars and other odd things, it was very neat and tidy. There was a pleasant earthy aroma hovering in the air.

“I’m not quite sure where I should keep you,” Lucie said, taking him in her hand and crossing over to the bed. Climbing up onto the high bed, she sat cross-legged and set him down on her right knee.

“I guess if your great grandmother knows you have me, there’s no real point in trying to find some clever hiding spot I suppose,” he said.

She nodded, “True enough, though you should stay in this room, there are things in the other room that would definitely be unhealthy for you,” she advised.

“Things?” he asked.

Placing her the fingers of left hand on her upper left thigh, she moved it like a spider rapidly down her leg toward Michael.

“A spider? You keep a giant freaking spider here in your house?” he asked, eyes round, “please tell me you’re kidding,” he added, shaking his head from side to side.

She held up three fingers on her right hand, “And scorpions, and snakes, amongst others,” she said, lowering he hand.

Michael shuddered, “Not a fan at full size let alone at this size,” he commented, scrunching up his face.

She chuckled. “Are you hungry?” she asked.

Rolling his eyes, he put his hands on his stomach, “I am absolutely starving,” he said with a half grin.

Picking him up off her knee, she set him on the bed and got off, “Wait here, I’ll see what we have,” she said, nodding and darting out the door.

Watching her leave, he shook his head, “Please nothing weird, please mothing weird,” he murmured under his breath once she had gone.

When she returned, she was carrying a small ceramic dish halfway between a plate and a bowl, like a saucer, with some small pieces of what appeared to be meat, orange cheese, and a small lump of something a muted yellow color. Climbing back onto the bed, she set the dish down beside him.

“What is that?” he asked, checking out the food on the plate, raising his eyebrows and pointing at the lump.

She grinned, “Mămăliga,” she said, “it’s good, very filling and nourishing,” she added, taking a small portion for herself and putting it into her mouth, smiling as she chewed it and swallowed.

His stomach rumbled. Getting down on his hands and knees, he pulled a little bit of each material forward and then sat back on his butt, alternating between the foods and eating with gusto. Although he hadn’t eaten very much off the plate, he was positively stuffed.

“You were hungry,” she commented, watching as he rubbed his stomach. “You ate so fast, I thought you might choke and I would have to give you a Heimlich maneuver,” she jested, crossing her arms under her breasts and miming the compression motion.

He chuckled, “I think I would probably get lost in your cleavage,” he replied, rising to his feet and pointing at her prodigious chest.

She shook her head and smiled.

“Thank you for the food, it was very good,” he said, nodding his head in appreciation.

“You are welcome,” she replied, taking the dish by the edge and lifting it off the bed. “Careful,” she warned, leaning to the side and putting the plate on the stand next to her bed before checking he was clear and sitting back down the motion small to her, but the transfer of energy through the mattress enough to take him off his feet. “Sorry,” she said, scooping him up in her hand and bringing him near her chest.

Waving a hand up at her, he grinned, “Assquake,” he said playfully.

She frowned, but her eyes still held mirth, “What are you implying?’ she asked, tilting her head slightly to one side.

Sitting up in her hand, he held up both of his, “Nothing,” he said defensively, “except maybe your bed is too soft,” he added.

“Alright,” she conceded, frown turning into a smile.

Getting to his feet, he moved to the edge of her hand, putting his arms out and embracing her chest. She was sure it was an innocent gesture of his gratitude for all she had done for him, however to her, it reignited a burning deep inside her. Although only one of his hands was touching her chest, the other was on her shirt over the hollow valley between her breasts, his tiny fingers like sparks to dry tinder. She could feel the flesh of her nipple respond, hardening inside the captivity of her brassiere. Her first instinct was to move him away, but he lay his head next to the hand touching her through the fabric.

Letting her breath out slowly, she allowed him to remain.

“You’re so warm,” he commented, disengaging and moving back a couple of paces toward the center of her hand.

“Are you cold?” she asked.

“A little,” he replied, smiling.

Tilting her hand, he leaned back into her palm as she brought him toward her breast, cupping her hand and pressing his entire body delicately against the rounded surface beneath her shirt.

Closing her eyes, she brought her other hand up and caressed her other breast, a soft sigh escaping her plump lips. It felt so good.