literature

8. Our Own World

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Literature Text

"Good morning, bed head..."

A sweet voice wafted into Fred's ear, and he shifted as he slowly woke up. Cracking up his eye, he saw the shadowy figure of his wife hovering over him. Groaning he turned over, pulling the sheets up to his chin. "...that has yet to be seen..."

Bec smiled, shaking her head, readjusting the plate she held in her hand. Crawling carefully onto the bed, she nestled herself beside, leaning against the backboard. "Oh, so I guess a good morning wouldn't involve chocolate chip pancakes covered in whipped cream with chocolate shavings?" She felt him turn his head to peer up at her suspiciously.

"...it might."

Picking up the fork from the plate, she began to cut into it. "No no, you clearly need your beauty sleep, baby. Besides, you don't like mornings filled with deliciousness and orgasm-inducing pancakes." Just as she raised the fork to her mouth, Fred's face was beside hers, "I love orgasm-inducing anything," and swiftly snatched the pancake balancing on the fork with his mouth. Chewing he grinned, "Especially pancakes~!"

Putting on a look of mock disgust, Bec wiped the fork on Fred's shirt. "Eww! You got your cooties all over my fork! Not to mention you stole MY pancake!" Fred growled playfully, leaning in even closer to her, wrapping his arms around her as she giggled, attempting to wriggle free.

"Oh, YOUR pancakes, hm?"
"Hee hee, yes, MY pancakes, I did make them after all!"
"Really, that's funny because I thought they were MY recipe."
"Your mother's recipe."
"Don't bring my mother into this, you vicious fiend! How would you like it if I talked about your mother like that?"
Bringing his face close to hers again, Fred nuzzled her cheek, causing her to giggle madly, holding the pancakes out at arm's length and out of his reach.
"Well, my mother never made pancakes quite like these, so I'm afraid you have no ammo sir!"
"No, but she does make that apple pie...mmm..."
"Hey! Don't you think about my mom's apple pie!"
"Why not? You're eating my mother's pancakes!"
"No, I haven't had a bite, you're the only one eating them!"

Snarling, Fred went about viciously kissing Bec's neck, causing her to let out a whole new burst of giggles. Squirming, she did her best to balance the breakfast she had prepared. Unfortunately, gravity had other plans, and as one of her husband's kisses reached her ear, she squealed and threw the plate into the air. Before either one of them could do anything all of the plate's contents splattered on their laps. And chests. And Fred's face.

Snorting, Bec covered her mouth, trying to not laugh, though she failed horribly. For a moment, Fred sat still, then licked some whipped cream off his lip. Looking over at Bec, he grinned. "If you wanted to see me covered in whipped cream, you could've asked, babe." Bursting into laughter, Bec reached out and pushed Fred, "You're such a perverrrrt~!" Pulling her to him, Fred smiled. "Only with you."

Giggling, Bec wiped some bit of pancake off his cheek. "Lucky me." Leaning forward, he whispered, "No, lucky me..." and pressed his lips to hers.
A submission for [link] , which has a 30 Kisses thing going on...this is Fred, and his wife, Bec.

She died, so this is a look back on what they were like together. ;_; *SOB*
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