#my hair would be in a pony tail so fast I'd give myself whiplash

[becca-e-barnes]

Becca, darling! I am one again thinking of Lee and what he would be like if he had the reader sat in his lap, maybe trailing her smaller delicate hands over his softer rounder tummy whilst also feeding slices of (perhaps home-made especially for her favourite sheriff?) pie or tasty pastry treats. Her knowing how hard he works and she just wants to make sure he's cared for

Maybe things escalate from there as she begins to subtly grind herself against his thigh...

🍑 anon

No because I literally love this. This isn't something I've ever written but I find it so hot! That whole concept of food and sex and the satisfaction that you feel when both are so good? Plus I love baking so this is it for me

Like I love the thought of baking something special for Lee. Maybe a cherry pie bc that's my favourite dessert. He'd watched you make it with a soft, content smile on his face, trying to tear his eyes away from the swell of your ass and the way it's framed by the edges of your apron.

As the pie cools down, he notices the little cracks forming in the pastry, his mouth watering at how the syrupy crimson filling peaks through. The light dusting of sugar on top doesn't help him restrain himself either, never mind the smell of freshly baked buttery pastry that's been wafting from the kitchen.

"Don't touch. baby. The pie is for Sunday." You smile, giving him a gentle kiss that makes him groan in frustration.

"Tha's not fair and you know it, Sugar." He groans, squeezing your ass after tugging you against him by the apron strings. "You gonna deny me a little slice of pie? On my birthday of all days?" He knows exactly how to get what he wants and damn him, it's working.

"Won't even make ya put a candle in it for me. Jus' lemme have a little taste. We can pretend it never happened." He won't relent and you know it. Not until he's watching a knife glide through the soft crust with the gentlest crunch.

It's not easy denying him, especially when the pie was his request. "Just a taste." You agree, rolling your eyes before giving in and cutting him a slice.

The filling is ever so slightly too wet, a testament to how fresh the cherries were before they were baked. The way you slide into his lap makes him perk up but his eyes don't leave the dessert plate and pastry fork in your hand.

He doesn't move to take the plate from you, looping his arms around your waist and smirking to himself as you load up the fork before bringing it to his lips.

God, the filling is delicious. It's sweet and decadent and reminds him so much of you. "Oh Sugar, you've outdone yourself this time." He moans, making a show of letting his head flop backwards as he chews. His eyes close of their own accord and it briefly reminds you of the kind of ecstasy you've seen him experience so many times before. Often in this same kitchen chair.

"You like it, Lee?" You smile, trying to ignore the strength of the throbbing between your thighs as you scoop more dessert onto the fork.

"Fuck sweetheart, you have no idea." You bring the utensil to his mouth once more before resting both the fork and the plate on the kitchen table as he chews.

Your hands roam over him slowly, a little more reverent than the way you usually touch him. You admire how even over his shirt, your fingers still sink into his soft, doughy tummy just a little. You've put a few extra pounds on him since you got married, not that either of you are complaining.

You know he can't be comfortable. That belt has been getting a little tighter recently and it shows now that he's sitting down. Without wanting to make a big deal, your hands trail lower, landing on the buckle and undoing it. He lets out the most content huff of breath, chewing methodically as you go back to rubbing his tummy.

"God, it's good." He whispers, letting you feed him another bite. "And all fuckin' mine." You're not sure if he's talking about the pie or you anymore and you can't find it in yourself to care. His thick thigh is wedged neatly between your legs in a way that has you rolling against it, letting gasps fall from your lips while your husband just watches.

"Is this doin' it for ya? Cause baby, every time you cook for me, I leave the table half hard and way too fuckin' full." He admits, holding your waist and watching the way your eyes flutter shut.

"Lee, that's..." You begin but the lust has all your thoughts a little scrambled.

"Hot? Cause I can feel what it's doin' to ya. Bet ya taste even sweeter than the pie right now." You're almost ashamed and it just makes you wetter, desperately riding his thigh as you lift the plate once more, your hands trembling ever so slightly.