He'd actually drifted off to sleep, or some kind of limbo. When he opens his eyes he's disoriented. Then he places himself in their room. (Well, the "guest room" according to the new owners). The night is thick black outside. He looks at the clock (Violet's gotten him in the habit). It's 2:30 a.m. He stretches. Yawns.

He had a busy day of playing Prince Charming for the girl's role play. He battled a dragon, outwitted the evil witch, and saved Sleeping Beauty -, played by the lovely Violet, laying on a cot in the basement, her pale hands crossed against her chest.

"What do I do now?" Tate asked them, feigning ignorance. They rolled their eyes.

"You have to kiss her, silly!"

"Kiss her? Yuck!" he teased.

"You have to! You have to wake her up!"

"Okay. If I have to."

He saw Violet sneak a smile. He leaned in close to her, but then pulled back.

"Can I just tickle her?"

"No!"

He scrunched up his face and gave her a quick peck on the cheek.

"No, Tate!" they giggled. "You have to kiss her on the lips!"

"Oh, man, you girls are killing me." He got down on his knees beside where she lay and pressed his mouth to hers. Her lips were so soft and tasted so sweet. He lingered there as her arms moved up to grasp his shoulders.

"She's awake!" they cheered. His mouth reluctantly parted from hers.

"Oh my goodness, where am I?" Violet sighed. "Who are you?" She's such a ham.

"This is your prince and now you are married."

"Oh, really?" she said. "Don't I get a say in this?"

"Hey, I fought a dragon for you."

"Well, I guess that's something. So now what do we do?" She gave him a sly smile.

The girls rolled their eyes. "You live happily ever after."

duh.

Tate smiled thinking about it and wondered where his royal wife had gotten off to. He's in the mood for more than a chaste kiss on the lips. He steps out into the hallway, listens, but all is quiet. All souls alive and dead appear to be sleeping.

He checks for her in the attic, the study, and then steps into the kitchen. He's greeted with a pleasing sight. She is bent over, digging for something in the refrigerator, clad in only thin pink panties and his white ribbed t-shirt.

"Now that's a picture."

"Oh!" she jumps back, spins around. "Jesus, you scared me!"

"Why? Did you think it might be a ghost?" he says with a smart-ass grin.

"Ha, ha."

Her hair is pulled up in a messy pony tail. She looks so cute and so unbelievably sexy at the same time. Her thin t-shirt reveals her nipples are as startled as she is.

"What are you up to ?"

She sighs. "I'm trying to see what they might have to use for a recipe Chad found."

She goes back to digging through the crowded fridge. He enjoys the view of her panties sliding up to reveal more of her pert little ass. She says something he can't hear.

"What?" he says, moving closer and "accidentally" bumping his hips into her. He grabs her waist, "Oh no, I'm so sorry." he jokes. She pushes back against him. Nice.

"Do you mind?"

"Not at all, actually." He pulls her hips closer.

"Tate, seriously."

She stands up and in a flash his hands are cupping her tits. "Seriously, I don't mind," he says, grinning into her neck. He takes a little bite, hears her breath hitch. He nibbles a little more. "Hmmm.. I think I found a nice little snack right here."

She shivers at his warm breath against her neck. He sinks his teeth into her, biting and sucking lavishly. She writhes in his grasp as he feasts on her, the soft brush of his curls contrasting delightfully with the sharpness of his teeth. He knows he's hitting the spot that makes her knees go weak. She whimpers helplessly as he gnaws and sucks. He's made her cum this way. He slides his hand down to stroke her over the thin cotton of her panties. His teeth send jolts from her neck to her sex and he feels the wetness soak the cotton. She thrashes, but he holds her firmly, his teeth and his hand conspiring to make her cum. Her hand reaches up to grasp his curls "tate, tate, no, no, no, tate oh, god, no, no , oh, oh!" His mouth plunges again and she's quiet now, only her silent thrashing. When she sighs, shudders, he lifts his head, leaving her skin red and wet and bruised. She softly elbows him in the ribs. "Jesus, Tate." she sighs. He smiles, pushes her t-shirt up and she instinctively raises her arms. He tosses it aside and pulls off his own shirt to press his bare chest against her back.

"So, what do we have in here?" he asks, his voice husky with desire. He looks over her shoulder to examine the shelves. "Hmmm... milk."

He lifts the carafe and pulls off the top. She turns around.

"So...you're thirsty?"

"Close your eyes."

As soon as she does, he pours the cold milk across her collarbone. It runs down over her tits, dripping from her nipples.

"Tate!" She opens her eyes to catch his devious dimpled grin. He puts the bottle on the counter, leans down and begins to lap it up, running his tongue over her coated tits. He sucks it off one nipple, then the other, the cold liquid and his warm mouth sending jolts to her core.

His hands smooth the creamy liquid over her skin, smearing it on her chest and abdomen. He fondles her wet tits, licks a long stroke from her chest to her neck and then brings his face up to give her a milky kiss. He reaches behind to release her hair. It falls around her face in a wave, strands sticking to the milk as his lips trace it on her cheeks, her ears. "Oh, god, oh god, Tate," she sighs.

He hooks his fingers in the elastic of her panties and pushes them down to her ankles, she steps out of them. He takes the carafe and spills more milk down her back. She shivers as it flows from her shoulder blades down her spine. He reaches around and fondles her, spreading the milk over her ass, his hands gliding over her perfect, glistening mounds. He pushes her tight against him, squeezing, licking, kissing her.

She pushes him back gently until his back presses to the wall. She unfastens his jeans, pulls them off eagerly along with his boxers to release his cock. She strokes his chest, wet and glistening after pressing against hers. She uses her milk-coated hand to grasp his member, strokes him with the rhythm and pressure she knows he likes. His head falls back, a low guttural moan escaping his throat. "Oh, god...oh, vi..." His eyes squeeze closed. She relishes the feel of his pulsing cock in her hand. She pumps him until he's whimpering helplessly under her touch and a flame ignites in her core. He releases her, not wanting him to cum yet.

He takes her by the arms and spins her around so her back is now against the wall. He slips over to the fridge, scanning the shelves until he finds what he wants. He kicks the door closed and screws open the lid to the jar, a devious grin lighting his face. He digs two fingers in, pulling up a gooey mound of bright red jam. He spreads it over her tits. He kicks her legs apart with his foot and presses the cool jelly against her cunt. He sucks and licks the sweetness off of her nipples and skin as his fingers spread it over her folds. She moans, grasping desperately onto his shoulders. He hitches her leg over his hip and puts his two fingers inside of her, pumping steadily, "oh, oh, tate, oh, oh, uh, uh, baby, oh..." he strokes that perfect spot until she's almost there, then pulls away, drawing a gasp from her. He puts his fingers, flavored with jam and her juices to her lips. She sucks them in. The sight and sensation of it makes him moan. He presses his forehead to hers and ruts his fiercely hard cock against her hips.

She grabs a handful of his curls and yanks his head back. She bites his neck so sharply he cries out. He pushes her shoulders back, hard, smacking her against the wall. She slaps his face. His eyes register surprise. But then he grins wickedly, slaps her back. She gasps and returns the favor. His smacks her again, whipping her hair across her face. She grabs his nipples and pinches them hard. He grits his teeth, puts his hand under her chin and pushes her face up and away from him as he retaliates, twisting her tender nipple. She squeals, kicks his shin. He releases her and she pushes him. He stumbles back only to return with a thrust that throws her to the wall hard enough to take her breath away. She starts to swing but he grabs her by the wrists. He forces them up above her head. He binds them in one hand as he fondles her with the other.

She strains to break free, but his hold on her is firm, a contrast to the soft touch he is using against her tits, her tummy, her thighs, her cunt. He puts a finger on her clit and bangs his lips against hers, she releases a muffled cry. She tastes blood. He forces her lips apart, his tongue invades her mouth. She kisses him helplessly as he teases her with soft pressure to her nub. When she gets the chance, she takes a vicious bite of his bottom lip. He yelps and releases his hold on her. He touches his lip with his fingers. Now he's bleeding, too. She smiles triumphantly. She touches the blood on her own mouth and brings the red finger to his nipple, spreading her blood on it before leaning down to suck it off. He moans. She surprises him with another hard slap across his face. Before he can retaliate, she falls to her knees, resting her forearms on the cool tile. Her hips are raised to him, an offering.

He kneels down behind her, and roughly seizes her hips. He pushes into her heat, the milk and jam offering a unique lubricant. She gasps as he fills her completely. This position makes her feel every last inch of his tremendous dick. He moans long and low, relishing the way her walls clench him tight. He pulls away and plunges in, not gently, building to a steady rhythm.

Her eyes squeeze shut, her teeth gritting from the intense pleasure mixed with pain. With total control of the force and speed, he fucks her as he pleases, grunting. Their skin slaps obscenely as she squeals and cries but it... feels... so... fucking... good. He stops abruptly, takes a fistful of her hair and yanks her head back. He spanks her. She whimpers. He pushes his length in even deeper, bumping against her womb. He waits. Then five harsh slaps sting her skin followed by five brutal thrusts. She cums so hard she can't see.

He pulls slowly out of her. She turns around and he reaches out his hands, pulls her up from the floor. She is weak and shaking from the force of her orgasm, her legs bucking underneath. He lifts her gently and sits her on top of the table. He kisses her deeply. She reaches for his cock, so hard and slick from her juices, and welcomes him inside of her again. He groans as he returns to her moist heat. He grasps one leg under her knee and secures the other arm around her back. He presses kisses into her hair as he pumps inside of her. "Vi, oh, fuck, vi, it's so good inside, so fucking good..." His hips bump against her clit at a delicious angle, sending swirls of pleasure through her whole body, and she's rising again. He grasps her to him, chanting her name as they climb, higher, higher, so impossibly high, and its a burst of color and sound and light, so bright, so goddamn fucking bright.

She falls back against the table as he collapses over her, their chests heaving, declarations of love and lust still tumbling from their lips. When their breath calms, he lifts himself off of her and falls into the bench. She slips off of the table and sits on the other side. They look at each other and laugh. Their bodies are coated with milk and jam and blood and sweat. It makes for a pretty good recipe.