My Little Brownie Cupcake by Charles Petersunn,Charles Petersunn

by

George’s own finger was now deep within the soft, warm dough of Sara’s cupcake, exploring and sliding, in and out. Sara slowly, subtly, moved her hips in unison with George’s finger.

Mr. Nixon smiled. Sometimes kids don’t seem to grow up. He suspected that this was just some silly student joke, getting him to stick his finger into a cupcake. Why that would be so amusing he did not know, but students had laughed hysterically at some of the silliest of jokes at his own expense. But then, Sara did seem to be serious about it. And, besides, she was clearly quite uncomfortable. He better get this over with so that she could get to a bathroom. He tried to carefully dig his finger down into the cupcake.

Those who bought one of the fanny cakes were given a special surprise treat, as Principal Nixon quickly discovered. Embedded beneath the little red spot of icing, inserted deep into the interior, was a long thin stick of brownie.

“Oh my, what is this?” Well, he realized with some relief and pleasure, Sara had been right after all. No wonder she wanted him to dig his finger inside.

Sara explained. “It’s the lady bug’s little home, her own little dark tunnel.”

“Well, that’s very cute,” Mr. Nixon said approvingly.

“Yes sir,” George agreed, “I think her little tunnel is very, very cute.”

With that remark, Mr. Nixon again felt a bit uncomfortable. He could also see that Sara really needed now to go get some personal relief. She was actually hopping and squirming. He figured that she wasn’t rushing off because she wanted to be polite to her old principal. He quickly paid for the peach cupcake, along with a few others, and left.

As soon as he walked off, George popped out his finger.

“Georgie!” Sara squealed. “You’re such a bad boy,” playfully wacking him on the shoulder. But, she knew she liked it, and had in fact enjoyed it very much. She did now really need some relief, but it wasn’t the kind Mr. Nixon had been thinking about. “Now, you give me back my corsage, and be sure to wash those hands before you handle any more of my cupcakes.”

George handed her the plug, picked up a couple of sanitary wipes, and carefully cleaned himself off.

Sara squatted down in the booth, like she was going to go to the bathroom. “Tell me if you see anybody coming.”

Ample warning would in fact be quite hard to provide, as there were people constantly walking by the front of the booth. Fortunately, it didn’t take long for Sara to get the plug back in. She smiled sweetly at him as she worked it back up into her rectum, admiring the sight of the quite evident bulge in George’s trousers as she did so. He clearly needed some relief as well.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

When the fair was over for the day Sara and George retreated to a nice secluded section of Higgins Park to celebrate her success. It was a lovely day for a picnic. The sun was out, there was a soft breeze, and wild flowers were in full bloom. While Sara was setting up a picnic snack, mostly of cupcakes and sodas, George strolled off to pick her a bouquet. He returned with some Wild Cosmo, Scarlet Flax, Sweet William, and Black Eyed Susan. The townsfolk seeded Higgins Park so that it was almost always in full bloom with quite an impressive array of colors.

Sara loved the flowers. She placed them in one of their water bottles. As she was admiring their gay colors, and thinking how lucky she was to have a guy like George, she carefully set the bottle down, got on her hands and knees, dropped down to her elbows, and reached back to lift up her skirt. The violet rose came into view. “Would you like to pick this flower too, Georgie?”

George glanced about in panic. He saw no one, only the tall field grass and wild flowers, waving in the summer breeze. He could, as well, hear no one, only the sound of the rustling of leaves. They were truly alone. They were nicely secluded.

He approached her upraised bottom, shining in the summer sun, the rose such a lovely flower.

Sara was also providing a very sweet view of her pussy. Her soft, curved moist lips glistened in the summer sun. They couldn’t be more inviting. George knew that his cock would feel so good there, clutched in the soft, enveloping wetness of her hot cunt. Could there be any better pleasure than that?

For George, and for Sara, there was: Sara’s darker nether tunnel. There was something even more appealing in doing it there. It seemed to them more personal, more intimate, more naughty, more forbidden. Sara spread her legs to make room for him.

George got down on his knees behind her. He gently placed his hands on each of her cheeks; her smooth, soft, lily white cheeks. He could hear Sara sigh.

He leaned over, leaning down until his nose reached her violet flower. He took in its scent. He wondered if she had freshened it prior to leaving for the picnic. The enticing Dior scent was quite strong, and pleasing.

He buried his nose in the silky petals, feeling the soft fabric tickle his nose as the cheeks of her rump embraced the cheeks of his face. He pushed her cheeks tightly together to fully capture his face in the cushiony loveliness of her rump.

He stayed there for awhile, enjoying her softness, her freshness, her scent. With some regrets, he pulled back and let go of her bottom. Its firmness was so impressive. It hardly moved, jiggling only so deliciously as he let go.

He then reached in between her checks to pluck the rose from her rectum. She teased him a bit by gripping hard on the plug, making it somewhat more difficult for him to pull it out, as well as enjoying the last moments of its pressure inside her. It came out with a pop, leaving behind a very enticing, open, large gape; a deep, dark hole of delectable pleasure, opening wide before him, and then just as quickly closing shut, like the lens of a camera. Sara whispered, “There’s lotion right by my leg.”

George squeezed some lotion onto his forefinger and lightly traced the tip around and around the closed aperture, enjoying the feel of the moistened little ripples and furrows of her wrinkled anus. Her tiny brown star was so cute, so delicate, so enticing.

Sara groaned with pleasure at the touch, the caress, of George’s finger. “Put your thing in, Georgie, please?”

“Just a second,” he responded. He wanted to savor the moment, for at least just awhile. “You know, Sara, your little puckered rosebud is the prettiest flower in the field.”

Sara blushed with the compliment. Georgie can be quite the romantic. He pressed down on her anus with his index finger.

It slid in easy. She was getting quite good at this. He pressed his finger down into her rectum, burying it up to its first, then second knuckle, and then all the way in.

Sara openly groaned with pleasure.

George pulled up on her bottom, raising her butt up even higher, like it was hooked on his finger. He thought it might even be fun to lead or coax her around the field like this. “Remember the wheelbarrow race?” The wheelbarrow race was when persons ran around on their hands, while another person steered from behind, holding up their feet like they were the handles of a wheelbarrow. The image of doing this with Sara’s anus sounded like an even more amusing game.

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