The First Taste

I stepped out of the peppermint bushes like I belonged there, heart hammering against my ribs hard enough to crack one. My cock was already half-hard, a thick, insistent throb pressing against the front of my filthy sweatpants. Flora stood there in her little pastel-green dress and white apron, looking like the cover of a storybook that had been drawn by someone with a very specific fetish.

She was even prettier up close. Heart-shaped face, that tiny beauty mark under her left eye, warm hazel eyes sparkling with zero suspicion. Her chestnut braid swung over one shoulder, candy flowers catching the pastel light. And that body—fuck. The dress hugged her waist and then flared out over hips that were made for gripping. Those C-cup tits sat high and proud, the bodice doing its best to contain them. I could already imagine them bouncing while I railed her from behind.

“Oh my goodness, you really are new!” she said, voice bright and sweet as spun sugar. She clapped her hands together in front of her chest, which made her tits jiggle in the most hypnotic way. “I’m Flora! Welcome to Candytopia! Are you lost? Do you need directions? A snack? A hug?”

A hug sounded like a great place to start.

“I’m Brian,” I said, keeping my voice low and friendly. “Just… arrived. From very far away. Earth.”

“Earth!” Her eyes went wide with delight. “I’ve never met anyone from Earth before! Is it nice there?”

I almost laughed. “It has its moments. But this place… this place is something else.”

She beamed like I’d given her a present. “Come on! You must be tired and sticky from the journey. My cottage is just over the caramel hill. I’ll get you cleaned up and we can have cocoa milk and talk about everything!”

Before I could answer, she grabbed my hand—her fingers small, warm, and soft—and started pulling me along the licorice-grass path. I let her. My eyes stayed glued to the sway of her ass under that dress. Every step made it bounce just enough to remind me what I’d seen when she was bent over: that perfect heart-shaped ass, those white cotton panties with the little pink bows digging into the crack.

My cock gave a hard twitch. Easy, Brian. Slow. She doesn’t even know what a cock is. You rush this and you scare the prey.

The cottage looked like it had been built by someone who’d eaten too many gingerbread houses. Candy-cane pillars, gumdrop roof, windows that looked like stained glass made of hard candy. Inside it smelled like vanilla and warm sugar. Flora bustled around, humming that same cheerful tune, completely at ease with a three-hundred-pound stranger in her home.

“You really did have a rough landing,” she said, turning to look at me with genuine concern. “Your clothes are all stained and rumpled. Here—let’s get that shirt off so I can wash it.”

She reached for the hem of my greasy t-shirt like it was the most natural thing in the world. I hesitated for half a second, then lifted my arms. The shirt came off with a wet sound. Flora’s eyes went a little wide at the sight of my pale, doughy torso, but not with disgust. With curiosity.

“Wow… you’re so big and soft,” she said, reaching out without a shred of shame and patting my belly. Her hand lingered. “Like a big friendly marshmallow! Does it feel nice when people touch it?”

Jesus Christ.

“Yeah,” I rasped. “It feels really nice.”

She smiled and kept touching, innocent little pats turning into curious strokes across my chest and stomach. Every brush of her fingers sent heat straight to my dick. When her hand drifted lower, brushing the waistband of my sweatpants, I sucked in a sharp breath.

Flora paused, head tilting. “Brian? There’s something… hard… pushing against your pants. Is that normal for Earth people?”

I swallowed. This was it. The first test.

“It’s… part of me,” I said carefully. “It gets hard when I meet someone really pretty. Like you.”

Her cheeks went pink, but it wasn’t embarrassment—it was pleasure. “Really? That’s so nice! So it means you like me already?”

“More than you know.”

She looked down at the obvious bulge, fascinated. “Can I… see it? I want to understand Earth customs. Friends should know everything about each other, right?”

Hook. Line. Sinker.

I nodded, trying to keep my breathing steady. “Yeah. Friends should.”

I hooked my thumbs in the waistband and shoved my sweatpants and boxers down in one go. My cock sprang free—thick, veiny, already leaking pre-cum, the head an angry dark red. It bobbed heavily in the air between us.

Flora stared. Not in horror. In pure, open-mouthed wonder.

“It’s so big,” she whispered. “And it’s leaking a little clear stuff. Is that… happy juice?”

I almost came right there.

“Something like that,” I managed. “It means I really, really like you.”

She stepped closer, no fear at all, and reached out with one delicate finger. She touched the bead of pre-cum at the tip, gathering it on her fingertip. Then, before I could say anything, she brought it to her mouth and licked it clean.

Her eyes fluttered. A soft, surprised little moan escaped her.

“It tastes like… warm sugar and something else. Something that makes my tummy feel tingly.” She looked up at me, pupils a little wider. “Can I have more?”

My brain short-circuited for a second. Then the depraved part of me—the part that had survived a ****-by-masturbation and a divine intervention—took over.

“You can,” I said, voice rough. “But only if you use your hand. Like this.”

I took her small hand in mine and wrapped her fingers around my shaft. She couldn’t even close her grip all the way. The contrast—her soft, innocent fingers against my filthy, throbbing cock—almost made me lose it.

“Stroke it up and down,” I instructed, guiding her. “Gently at first. It feels really good when you do that.”

Flora obeyed instantly, her face a picture of focused innocence. She stroked me with slow, curious movements, watching my face the whole time like she was learning a new game.

“Am I doing it right?” she asked.

“Perfect,” I groaned. “You’re a natural, Flora.”

Her other hand came up to cup my heavy balls, exploring them with the same gentle curiosity. Every touch was electric. I could feel the orgasm building fast—too fast—but I didn’t want to stop it. I wanted her to see what she did to me.

“Flora,” I said, voice tight, “I’m gonna… the happy juice is coming. It’s gonna come out. Don’t stop.”

She nodded, eyes bright with excitement. “I want to see!”

I lasted maybe ten more strokes. The pressure in my balls detonated. I groaned, hips jerking forward, and shot the first thick rope of cum across her wrist and onto the front of her pretty green dress. The second spurt hit higher, splattering across her cleavage. The third landed on her chin and lower lip.

Flora gasped—but not in disgust. In awe.

“It’s so warm,” she breathed. “And there’s so much of it…” She touched the cum on her lip with her tongue again, tasting it properly this time. Her eyes rolled back for a second. “Brian… it tastes even better than the first drop. Like the best candy I’ve ever had. Is this… is this what Earth friends do?”

I was still panting, cock twitching in her hand as the last drops oozed out. I looked at her—innocent face, dress stained with my cum, lips shiny with it—and felt something dark and possessive settle in my chest.

“Yeah,” I said, cupping her cheek with one hand, thumb brushing the cum on her chin. “This is exactly what Earth friends do. It’s our special secret. Only the very best friends get to share it.”

She leaned into my touch, smiling that radiant, trusting smile.

“Then… can we be best friends, Brian?”

I smiled back, slow and hungry.

“Oh, Flora. We’re gonna be so much more than that.”

The sugar-sweet air in the cottage felt thicker now. Flora was still holding my softening cock, cum cooling on her dress and skin, licking her lips like she’d just discovered her new favorite flavor. A new warmth had crept into her cheeks, and her breathing was a little quicker. Something inside her had woken up—small, but real.

She looked up at me with those big hazel eyes, voice soft and eager.

“Brian… can we do the special friend game again? Or… is there more I should learn?”