Late Night Strawberries

Yummy

Oct 09, 2026

I was supposed to be sleeping. Her room was nice but I missed my own bed and I couldn’t settle. Too hot. Too wired. Too full of smuggled wine and horny thoughts. I’d already made myself cum once, biting the pillow to stop myself from making a noise, waking my sleeping best friend beside me or, worse, waking her family. But now my pussy was extra wet and I wanted more…

No, I chastised myself. I just needed to take my mind off it.

I crept downstairs, barefoot and braless, half-drunk and craving sugar. Their kitchen was beautiful–stone counters, glass jars, underlit cupboards. The kind of kitchen you only see in magazines. April’s family always seemed to have more money than mine, but it didn’t change our friendship.

I opened the fridge. There was a punnet of strawberries. I didn’t need to think about it to know that her family would be fine with me taking a few. It was always like that with her. I sat on the counter, legs swinging, and ate them slowly. They were cold and sweet and I let the juice linger on my lips, my mind almost completely free from looking around the kitchen for things I could fuck myself with…

That was, until I heard the floor creak.

I looked up, already smiling, feeling mischievous, thinking it was her. But it wasn’t.

It was him.

Her dad.

He stood at the threshold of the kitchen like he wasn’t sure he was allowed in, despite the fact it was his kitchen. It was at that moment that I realized the power I held. I smiled, looking him up and down as he stood there in just a pajama top and no pants.

“Oh, hi Mr. Cartwright,” I said softly, licking juice from my thumb, holding his gaze. “Couldn’t sleep?”

He nodded, taking a step toward me. He looked back the way he came for a moment and then cleared his throat. “You too, huh?”

“I was hungry,” I said, holding up the strawberries. “Want one?”

He shook his head, watching my thumb as it circled the tip of a strawberry.

“Suit yourself,” I said, biting into it myself. It was juicer than I’d anticipated, and the sweet liquid ran down my chin and dripped onto my chest. I giggled. “Whoops. I made a mess.”

I looked at him, but I made no attempt to wipe my shimmering cleavage.

I knew what I was doing, of course. I knew exactly how I looked, perched there in a low-cut pajama top that I’d borrowed from her, nothing underneath it except my hardening nipples, my thick, bare, thighs visible beneath.

I took another bite, closing my eyes with pleasure as I did so, softly humming my enjoyment. I opened them slowly, making eye contact with him once more, my horny brain taking over. I opened my legs slightly and his gaze flicked downward to my bare inner thighs. He looked away quickly, like he was angry at himself.

“It’s okay,” I said. “Do you like that?”

“What?”

“Looking,” I said, tilting my head, letting my hair fall to one side. “Did you?”

He swallowed but didn’t answer.

I hopped down from the counter and turned my back to him, running my fingers under the faucet, knowing that he’d be able to see my ass cheeks peeking out from beneath the shirt, round and full and in need of spanking. I was suddenly so glad I had left my panties upstairs.

“You always walk around like that?” he asked quietly. “When you’re staying in someone else’s house?”

I turned back toward him and smiled.

“Sometimes, Mr. Cartwright…” I said, brushing my hair to one side, revealing the softness of my neck. “Why? Is it a problem for you?”

“No,” he cleared his throat, a little flustered. “No, that’s fine, Sarah.”

“Hmmm. You seem very interested in my attire Mr. Cartwright…” I said with a grin. He opened his mouth to respond but I continued, cutting him off. “But if you must know, I hardly ever wear a bra or panties. Even at college. I’m sure you must have noticed.” I grabbed my breasts and squeezed them lightly through the pajama top, letting him see how big they were, letting him imagine their weight, pushing my hard nipples against the fabric. I was starting to get pretty turned on teasing him. “I guess I like showing them off.”

“You know what you’re doing,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

I nodded, taking another strawberry and laying it on my tongue around it before biting it. “Yeah. I do.”

“You should probably go back to bed,” he said.

“Mmmm,” I hummed, closing my eyes. “I like it when you tell me what to do.”

He opened his mouth. Closed it.

“Are you sure you don’t want just a little bite?” I slid my hand down my body and lifted the hem of my t-shirt, just lightly, my pussy smooth and bare beneath. “It’s really juicy.”

His daughter’s best friend. Offering her pussy to him in the kitchen.

He looked behind himself again, down the corridor. Upstairs, his wife was sleeping. “I really don’t think I should…”

“Just a quick kiss,” I whispered. “No one needs to know…”

I put another strawberry in my mouth and closed my eyes, opening my legs a little wider. The strawberry was delicious, the sweetest one yet, and I waited for him to make his decision.