Topped with a Cherry - An Erotic Story

By Polyana

‘I’ll be there at 6. Be ready.’

‘Ooooo, What are you planning?’

‘Well, it’s a surprise, but the food will be that Malaysian curry of mine you love.’

‘Surely it isn’t a surprise then, if you’ve just told me?’

‘Gotta go, I’ve a couple of stops to make first. See you soon beautiful.’

Six o'clock is two hours away, what do I do with myself?


Sometime later, after a long, candied rose-scented soak, shimmering, I had stepped out onto the mat and glanced at my watch. Thirty minutes left!

I just finished touching up my lips as I hear him pull up. Meeting him in the hall; one hand slips around my waist as we kiss and murmur soft greetings. I can never help but breath him in deeply whenever he is close; he smells of morning walks along deserted beaches. Mhmmmm.

I follow him into the kitchen.


He nods and I pour for us both. I take a slow sip and lean back in the kitchen doorway to watch him work, mesmerizingly comfortable in his skin. I know he feels my stare; he doesn’t mind.

Just then, the front door clicks open and closes. Sharp footfalls follow then She turns the corner.

I swallow, hard. It has been over a year, stunning as ever.

‘Hi gorgeous!’

Before I can get any form of response out, I am embraced her. Where earlier it had been sea spray on driftwood, this time it was dark, kirsch-soaked cherries that enrobe me. I draw away, becoming conscious of my surroundings again, of his gaze, her slight smirk. I know my cheeks are aglow and my breaths coming faster.

‘Great to see you. It has been so long. Can I get you a drink? How was your journey. How did you get here?’

A stream of words I can’t stop pour from my lips. Stop talking, breathe, wait for the responses.

‘It has been a while. Yes please, that wine looks perfect. My journey was great, I—’

She pauses and they share a glance. I realize then they haven’t greeted each other. I notice the extra place setting. Ahhhh.

‘A lovely idea.’

I kiss him thanks, sea breezes. Then a tang of dark fruit as I go for her cheek. But she turns slightly, and our lips graze. Oh. My thoughts are a jumbled confusion of questions and desire. He knew I liked her, but— Pulling back, my eyes flick towards the kitchen he’d returned to, then back to hers, questioning.

‘Is this—?

‘Yes. I want you; he knows.’

It would seem they had spoken quite a bit, in planning this. I slip her coat off. My hands run down her arms, taking in the softness of her skin, noticing the trail of goosebumps that follow my fingers. I hear her slowly exhale into my ear, melting under my touch.

‘Roses, you always smell of roses.’

I smile shyly. With one hand I drape her coat over a chair while I gently reach up to cup her face with my other. Many times, I have wondered what this would be like, watching her lips move as she spoke passionately about some shared interest. My eyes drop to that mouth now. Still smiling, I kiss her again, this time with intent.

I feel her respond to my heat, her back arching to bring our bodies closer together, her hands lightly running up my hips to hold my waist. I walk her slowly back till I have her against the wall. I feel her hand move up my back; she has my hair, gently pulling… An unspoken warning—Don’t think you’ll be calling all the shots. A soft moan escapes my lips.

‘Your wine—Oh…’

I hear him rest it on the table. His footsteps returning to the kitchen. I wonder, but I really can’t focus as I feel her hips start gently rocking, her softness merging with mine. Then suddenly, I feel his firm body against my back as he presses up against us. Fuck! I turn my head and our lips meet.

Her mouth is on my neck. The hand I had on her toned rear now reaches back to cup his. My other hand has found her breasts, caressing each one before gently squeezing her now-hard nipples through her fine-knit dress. I feel her teeth graze my skin; I apply a little more pressure, drawing a groan from her that I feel in my chest. I respond, sighing my desire into his mouth. He draws away, smiling.

‘I came to see if you ladies were ready for starters.’

At this point I realize his hand has replaced hers, in my hair. He pulls now, exposing my neck more, for her hungry mouth. Her hands are trailing fire wherever they touch. My legs feel weak from want.

But what do I want? Maybe her, on my bed, wet in my mouth. With him deep inside me, drawing moans that resonate into her as my tongue circles her clit insistently, drinking in her wetness, my chin dripping with her need…

They are kissing now, with that same first-time fervor. I feel his hardness rubbing gently but rhythmically up against my cheeks and ease a hand in to grip him. A low growl begins in his chest, a warning rumble of an approaching storm. I feel her body respond.

Adjusting my stance, I edge my thigh between hers, she rocks her hips harder, grinding into me. Her dress rides up; the fabric, I expect to feel on my skin, is missing. Instead, I feel her wet heat pressing hard into my thigh, and I am lost in my mind again.

Maybe I want him inside my mouth while I lie with my head hanging back. She would straddle my chest allowing my hands full access, my fingers sliding against and inside, exploring her. I would be able to reach up and run my hands over her round breasts and maybe offer her a taste of herself.

Or maybe she would want to taste me, positioning herself between my thighs, tongue languidly dancing with my clit, rolling it around her mouth till I moan my pleasure around his thickness. I moan for real at this thought and return to find a situation unfolding I hadn’t yet considered.

My need for them both clouding my mind, they have turned me and switched places. His back is against the wall and he holds me tight, a hand on my neck, the other up under my top, rubbing my heavy breasts. Her hands at my hips she kisses me long and deep before dropping to her knees, hands at the button of my shorts, with askance in her eyes.


My clothes deftly discarded, my pussy has company. She does not hold back at all, no gradual easing into things. My need must be crudely written across my face. Meanwhile he has found an angle, no, a chair, and has lowered himself onto it and me onto him. I begin to slowly rock my hips. Back and forth between the hardness of him and the tingling pressure of her, I grind my hips into my pleasure.

This is beyond anything I had yet imagined. This nest of tangled limbs; the symphony of moans, sighs, growls and smacks; the multi tones of skin and their flavors on all our lips; the scents of our desire blending, roses, cherries and driftwood…

I feel the wave coming, rising in me from my toes up. Everything tenses, I hear him growl at my tightness. She moans between my lips, then it is like releasing a long-held breath. I am so glad he is holding me up and that she has my legs pinned.

I feel my eyes roll back as I cry out, bucking as the wave breaks and the current takes me. I lose my edges and become that piece of driftwood, completely at the will of the sea as my pleasure carries me. I feel him slip two fingers into the side of my mouth.

Unhhhhh. He pulls back, slightly, causing another wave to sweep over me as, growling again, he fills me with his own. I realize I am gripping his thigh and her arm; they’ll anchor me. She hasn’t moved from her spot, she weathers my wave, every last drop.

I can see again and our eyes lock, hers just unclouding too. She has a hand in her own wetness, I understand and am glad. Languidly, we all come round and untangle ourselves.

We shower and freshen up together. He dashes back to the kitchen, leaving us giggling any last vestiges of shyness away.


‘Take your places ladies.’

Obediently, we settle down for the meal. I have taken the spot at the head of the table with them on either side of me. The curry is amazing, but I wonder: if that was the starter, what’s for dessert…

…maybe something with a cherry on top.



Forty, and currently identifying as pansexual, sapiosexual, demisexual, a little kinky & polyamorous, Ana of PolyAna Says is just a happy hippy hedonist who enjoys celebrating the pleasures of life. Sex positivity and self-love are her JAM! By day Ana is also a freelancer and solo parent. Follow her on Instagram @anaeidherself