Chapter 19: Chocolate Commandments
The slick remnants of the shower still clung to Tina’s skin, making the cool penthouse air prickle, but she ignored it. She stood naked before Nasser, his dark eyes tracking her every move from where he sat propped against the silk-covered headboard, a towel draped loosely over his lap. The thick, sweet scent of Nutella filled the space between them as she plunged her fingers into the jar. "Your last supper, Sheikh," she purred, her voice low and thick with promise.
She dragged the first thick, dark trail straight down the center of her sternum, the cool chocolate shockingly decadent against her still-warm skin. It pooled in the deep valley between her 36DD breasts. Another scoop, this time smeared in a slow circle around each dark areola, the contrast stark and obscene against her brown skin. She watched his eyes darken, his knuckles whitening where they gripped the sheet. "Remember the closet?" she taunted, her fingers trailing lower, leaving sticky paths over the swell of her belly, dipping towards the thatch of dark curls. "Remember Mommy's sweat?" Her fingertip circled her clit slowly, deliberately, gathering slickness before mixing it with the chocolate, spreading the sticky-sweet mess between her thighs. "This is better." She took a step closer, the Nutella glistening on her skin under the city lights streaming through the window. "Lick every drop clean, Prince," she commanded, her voice hardening, "or you know what happens." She held his gaze, unblinking, her finger still working slowly, messily, between her legs. "I'll smear what's left across that pretty bearded face like the dirty pig you are." She saw the flare of humiliation in his eyes, the familiar, shameful arousal tightening his jaw. "Get over here," she ordered, her voice cracking like a whip. "Dinner’s served."
Nasser moved slowly off the bed, the towel falling away as he approached the sticky feast she presented. His dark eyes flickered with a familiar mix of shame and hunger, fixed on the chocolate smeared across her heavy breasts. He sank to his knees before her, the plush carpet muffling the sound, his head level with her belly.
"Start with Mommy's tits, Prince," she commanded, her voice a low, insistent growl, her fingers still idly working the mess between her thighs. "Lick it clean." He hesitated, the scent of chocolate and her underlying musk thick in the humid air. Then, with a slight tremor, he leaned forward.
His tongue, hot and tentative, touched the outer curve of her right breast, lapping at the thick smear. Tina sighed, a deep, satisfied sound, shifting her weight to push more flesh towards his mouth. "That’s it," she murmured, watching his dark head move against her skin. "Like a good little Sheikh." His tongue traced the sticky path encircling her nipple, his beard rough against her tender flesh, contrasting sharply with the soft wetness of his mouth.
"Taste that?" she taunted, pressing his face harder into her chocolate-coated skin. "Taste the sweat underneath? Bet it’s better than my leggings, huh?" Her hand left her thigh to grip the back of his head, fingers tangling in his damp hair. "Lick it all, Prince," she hissed, grinding her hips subtly forward, the scent of her arousal sharpening. "Get every bit." He obeyed, his tongue becoming more insistent, swirling around the stiffening peak, suckling gently to draw the sweetness mixed with her salt into his mouth. His breath hitched against her as he worked.
She watched his closed eyes, the furrow in his brow. "You love this," she stated, not asking, grinding her mound against the air inches from his face. "You love licking chocolate off a Filipina's tits." His only answer was a low groan vibrating against her skin, his mouth moving hungrily to the valley between her breasts, lapping at the pooled Nutella there. "Filthy Arab," she breathed, her grip tightening painfully in his hair.
His tongue, rough with beard stubble, traced a hot path across her collarbone, seeking the last sticky smear near her shoulder. "Filthy Arab," she breathed, her grip tightening painfully in his hair, forcing him lower. He obeyed, dipping his head, the heat of his mouth descending across her ribs, the chocolate trails vanishing under his insistent lapping. She felt the drag of his beard, the contrasting softness of his lips, as he worked down the curved expanse of her belly. His breath hitched against the sensitive skin just above her navel, where a thick dollop of Nutella glistened.
"Down," she commanded, grinding her pelvis subtly forward, the scent of her arousal sharpening the chocolate sweetness thick in the air. His head lowered further, his nose bumping her soft lower belly, his tongue swiping a broad stripe through the sticky mess pooled there. Tina watched his dark head move against her skin, the powerful Sheikh reduced to this: servile, hungry. A low chuckle escaped her throat. "Look at you," she purred, her voice thick with mocking amusement. "Such a handsome Arab prince…" Her fingers tightened, nails digging into his scalp, forcing his face deeper into the yielding flesh of her lower abdomen. "...stuck licking chocolate off this fat Filipina pig."
He froze for a fraction, a tremor running through his shoulders, his mouth still pressed against her skin. The insult hung in the humid air, sharp as broken glass, mingling with the cloying scent of Nutella and her own dark, musky heat radiating from below. She felt the heat of his humiliation flare beneath her fingers, almost tangible. Then, with a ragged inhale, his tongue resumed its work, broader, messier strokes now, lapping the chocolate from her soft belly with a desperate, almost angry hunger. He didn't lift his head. Tina's triumphant grin widened. He accepted it. The degradation was complete, swallowed as readily as the chocolate smeared across her skin. Her dominance felt absolute in that silent, sticky moment.
Her dominance felt absolute in that silent, sticky moment. His tongue, rough with beard stubble, resumed its desperate path down her soft belly, lapping furiously at the cooling chocolate. "Lower," she commanded, her voice thick and low, grinding her pelvis forward until the humid heat radiating from her core washed over his face. The thick, dark curls glistened, thoroughly coated in the Nutella she’d worked deep between her folds, a sticky, obscene mess mingling with her own slick arousal. "Smell it?" she hissed, fingers tightening painfully in his hair. "Chocolate and Filipina cunt." She shoved his face hard, burying his nose and mouth into the dense, chocolate-smeared thatch. "Lick, Sheikh." His muffled groan vibrated against her flesh, a sound of pure, defeated hunger. Then his tongue surged, hot and broad, flattening against her swollen outer lips, dragging through the thick, sweet-salty paste. "Yes," Tina gasped, arching her back, the sensation electric – the rough scrape of his beard, the insistent pressure of his tongue parting her slick folds, delving into the chocolate-coated heat. He lapped hungrily, messily, slurping at the potent mixture coating her labia, his nose pressed hard against her clit. "Get it all," she moaned, grinding down onto his face, forcing him deeper. "Lick Mommy’s dirty chocolate pussy clean!" His tongue plunged inside her, fucking her with desperate strokes, reclaiming the sweetness mixed with her tang. Tina cried out, her thighs clamping around his head, riding the relentless pressure of his mouth as he devoured her, utterly owned.
Tina gasped, shuddering as the last tremors of her climax subsided, Nasser’s tongue still working gently, worshipfully between her thighs. She finally released the crushing pressure of her thighs around his head, pushing his sweat-dampened face away from her slick core. "Enough," she rasped, breathless but already regaining her commanding edge. "Stand up, Sheikh." He obeyed slowly, rising on unsteady legs, his beard glistening with a potent mixture of Nutella and her own wetness. His eyes, dark pools of submission and lingering arousal, fixed on hers, awaiting the next command.
She reached for the jar of Nutella, its thick, sweet scent mingling pungently with the musk of sex still hanging in the air. "Hands," she ordered, her voice regaining its steel. He lifted them, palms facing her. Tina scooped a large dollop onto each of his outstretched palms. The cool, viscous chocolate felt heavy against his skin. "Now," she said, turning her back to him, presenting the wide, powerful curve of her ass. She bent forward slightly at the waist, bracing one hand on the silk-draped bedpost. "Smear it," she commanded, her voice low and dangerous. "Smear Mommy’s big Filipina ass with that chocolate." She spread her cheeks roughly with her free hand, exposing the tight, dark pucker hidden within. "Cover it," she hissed, pushing her hips back towards him. "Every inch. Inside and out. Make it filthy." She felt the cool, sticky pressure of his chocolate-coated palm flatten against her left buttock, spreading the thick paste in a slow, deliberate circle. His other hand hesitated near her exposed hole. "Do it!" she snapped, grinding her hips impatiently. "Shove it in, Sheikh. Fill Mommy’s dirty asshole with Nutella." His fingertip, thick with chocolate, pressed firmly against the resistant ring of muscle.
His fingertip, thick with chocolate, pressed firmly against the resistant ring of muscle. It yielded slowly, reluctantly, allowing the cool, sticky paste inside her tight channel. "Deeper, Sheikh," Tina hissed, pushing her hips back onto his invading finger, the intrusion sharp and strangely grounding. "Fill Mommy’s dirty asshole." He obeyed, working the digit deeper, coating her inner walls with the sweet, cloying mess. She gasped, the sensation alien and intense, the Nutella’s chill contrasting violently with the sudden heat blooming inside her. "More," she demanded, breath catching. "Use your whole hand, Prince. Stuff it full." His palm, still thickly smeared, pressed flat against her spread cheeks, grinding the paste into her skin while his finger pumped slowly inside her. The obscene, slick sounds filled the quiet room, mingling with her low moans and his ragged breathing. "Feel that?" she taunted, clenching hard around his finger, trapping it. "Feel how tight Mommy is? How filthy?" She felt him tremble behind her, heard the choked sound in his throat. "Now," she commanded, pulling herself off his hand with a wet pop, the Nutella dripping obscenely down her inner thigh. She straightened slightly, turning her head to lock eyes with him over her shoulder. "Clean it." Her voice was absolute, final. "Lick Mommy’s big Filipina ass clean." She saw the flicker in his dark eyes – shame, exhaustion, the raw, undeniable hunger she’d cultivated. He sank to his knees without hesitation. His hot, desperate tongue swiped a broad, messy stripe through the chocolate coating her left cheek. He licked it clean.
He licked it clean. Tina turned slowly, the cool air prickling her Nutella-smeared skin as she surveyed Nasser kneeling, his beard still glistening with chocolate and her essence. She reached for the jar, scooping a thick dollop onto her fingers, the sweet, cloying scent sharp in her nostrils. "Hands and knees, Sheikh," she commanded, her voice low and unyielding.
He moved stiffly, obeying without hesitation, the powerful lines of his back and shoulders taut beneath the city lights reflecting in the large mirror. Tina stepped closer, her shadow falling over him. She dragged her chocolate-coated fingers slowly, deliberately, down the length of his stiff cock, the cool paste making him gasp. She smeared it thickly, coating the flushed head, the rigid shaft, the heavy base, turning his arousal into a sticky, dark offering.
"Good boy," she murmured, a predator circling her prize. She sank to her knees behind him, her own nakedness pressing warm against his thigh. Gripping the base firmly, she leaned forward, her dark hair brushing his skin, and took the thick, chocolate-covered head into her mouth. The bitter-sweet taste exploded on her tongue, mingling with the salt of his skin, the faint musk lingering from the shower.
She sucked hard, hollowing her cheeks, pulling him deep, the slick friction delicious against her lips and tongue. His cock pulsed hotly, slick with Nutella and saliva. She felt the tremor run through his body, heard the ragged intake of breath above her. Pulling off with a wet pop, she looked up, meeting his reflection's wide, desperate eyes in the ornate mirror. "Does the fat Filipina pig like his cock covered in chocolate?" he rasped, the words thick with humiliation and a raw, undeniable need, echoing her earlier insult.
His harsh words hung in the perfumed air, a mirror to her own cruel taunt, thick with the same degrading heat. Tina paused, her lips slick with chocolate and his pre-cum, and looked up the powerful line of his back. A low, dark chuckle rumbled in her chest, vibrating against the base of his shaft still resting on her tongue. "Mmm," she hummed, the sound rich with amusement and something far more predatory.
She pulled back just enough to speak, her breath warm on his glistening skin. "This fat Filipina pig," she purred, dragging her tongue slowly, deliberately, up the underside of his chocolate-coated cock, savoring the mixed salt and sweet, "just found the best damn desert in Manila." Her dark eyes glinted with triumph in the dim light reflecting off the silk sheets.
Then she took him deep again, swallowing him whole, her throat opening wide to accommodate his thickness. Her head bobbed firmly, rhythmically, fueled by the raw power of his humiliation echoing back at her and the sheer obscenity of the act. She sucked with fierce, relentless pressure, hollowing her cheeks until the muscles ached, drawing him impossibly deeper on each downward stroke.
The slurping, wet sounds filled the lavish bedroom, counterpointed by his ragged gasps above her. She felt his thighs tense, felt the telltale throb deep in the root where her fingers gripped him tight. He was close, teetering on the edge she’d pushed him towards relentlessly all night. Tina intensified her suction, a final, demanding pull, locking her lips tight at the base.
He cried out, a raw, broken sound, and she felt the hot, thick pulses flood her mouth, the salty tang of his release cutting through the lingering sweetness of the Nutella. She swallowed greedily, throat working, pulling every last drop until he shuddered violently, collapsing forward onto his forearms, utterly spent. She held him there for a long moment, feeling the aftershocks tremble through him, before finally releasing him with a soft, wet pop. His cock, slick with spit and chocolate, glistened in the city lights. "Dry," she murmured against his thigh, tasting the victory.