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Caprice – Collection Vol. 1


  1. Cover
  2. Caprice — An Erotic Series
  3. Main Characters
  4. About this Collection
  5. Caprice — Collection Vol. 1
  6. Copyright
  7. Sweet Manhattan Fling
  8. Kinky in Cancun
  9. Red Carpet Rendezvous

Caprice — An Erotic Series

Caprice is an erotic series that follows best friends Maren and Caprice — two journalists at Germany’s biggest tabloid magazine FLASH. Reporting events around the world, they meet celebrities as well as members of high society and the aristocracy. Maren and Caprice research their stories with hard-hitting dedication and do not hesitate to get physically involved …

Each episode is unique — sometimes gentle and other times a little rough. Different writers ensure each story’s individual flair, taking the reader from one glamorous jet set event to the next.

Main Characters

Caprice LaCroix is spontaneous, domineering, and strong-willed. She’s a confident diva who is part French and doesn’t hesitate to let everyone know, Mon Chéri. Having grown up just outside Paris, she learned to fight her way through life. It’s her fight that makes her relish sticky situations. Caprice noticed early on that she could hold men in her spell. Her tenacity got her the job at FLASH. Her reporter’s intuition not only leads her to exclusive and scandalous stories, but also into situations where she can live out her fantasies. Much more exciting than searching for one lone partner for life! Besides, her body is far too special to be admired by one man alone …

Maren Janson is the yin to Caprice’s yang. She’s just a “naïve country girl.” Or at least that’s her act. The boys, with whom Maren grew up, in a small German village, experienced that first hand. After she was drawn to the big city, she landed a job at Germany’s biggest tabloid magazine, FLASH. Maren knows that her girly, naïve ways incite mens’ protective instinct, and she takes advantage of this to serve her own needs. Still, one day she hopes to meet Mr. Right. But until she finds him, she likes to have her fun with the city boys …

About this Collection

Angelina Kay, Sweet Manhattan Fling
Maren Janson, a gorgeous blonde journalist at German tabloid FLASH, is sent to New York to profile celebrity pastry chef Bob Halliwell. Soon Maren finds herself entangled in a sensual romance with the sexy baker, and caught up in the world of competitive baking. Maren calls in seduction expert, colleague, BFF, and all-round tough cookie Caprice LaCroix to get to the bottom of a conspiracy. Can Caprice save Maren’s lover’s reputation — and have fun doing it?
Finding out the truth never tasted so sweet.

Karyna Leon, Kinky in Cancun
Maren is sent to Mexico on a stealth mission to get into a star-studded party and profile a wealthy businessman’s mysterious son. It could be tricky — no one has ever seen a photograph of him. Does he even exist? Maren will go to any length to get her story — while trying hard not to break a sweat in this sensual, exotic atmosphere, dripping with humidity and mystery.

Jaden Tanner, Red Carpet Rendezvous
Caprice and Maren are best friends, roommates and Germany’s hottest tabloid journalists in more ways than one. In this episode, French redhead Caprice and blonde German country girl Maren are sent to London and L.A. respectively to uncover the truth about rumors surrounding the casting of male leads for the new erotic movie Dreams of Passion.


Caprice — Collection Vol. 1
THREE Kinky Stories

Sweet Manhattan Fling
Kinky in Cancun
Red Carpet Rendezvous


Sweet Manhattan Fling

By Angelina Kay

Translated by Anna Matussek

It was almost the end of the workday, but the weather was still sweltering hot. Journalist Maren Janson sat in Walter Stein’s office and looked up at him expectantly. The Editor in Chief of FLASH magazine seemed lost in thought, whilst gazing at Maren’s long, slender legs.

Maren was dressed for the heat: distracting white shorts paired with a figure-hugging lilac blouse.

Walter managed to pull himself away from the sight of her lightly bronzed skin and drummed his fingers on the desktop. He took a deep breath.

“I want to send you to the USA,” he began “New York City, to be precise.”

“Great!” Maren sat up in excitement “Who’s it about?”

“Bob Halliwell. This guy’s a celebrity even outside of the U.S.”

“Isn’t he that pastry chef everyone’s been making such a big deal about lately?” She furrowed her brow. “So, I’m supposed to profile a pastry chef for our FLASH readers?”

Walter nodded. “Bob Halliwell’s creations are edible works of art in and of themselves, some of them are one of a kind, tailored especially to the client’s personal ideas and tastes. There was a photography exhibition in New York last month, all about his original creations. I want to take advantage of the hype and make him a public figure over here, as well. I’m sure there is no shortage of tasty photos of him.”

“Hardly,” Maren said, “and neither a shortage of calories, which I am exposing myself to by writing this piece.” She winked at her boss. “Aren’t you thinking of my poor figure at all?”

Walter looked like he'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He blustered, “What do I care about your figure? I want background on this man and anecdotes too. No one is expecting you to stuff yourself silly.”

Maren rolled her eyes. “Apparently Bob Halliwell’s creations aren’t only visually impressive, but are meant to be simply delicious. My body will be in serious danger of expanding.”

“You’re only meant to taste a little bit of everything and not dive into the cake.” Walter paused for breath; considering the image of Maren emerging from a giant cake with a whisp of cream just covering those nipples that he could see pushing gently at her shirt. He cleared his throat. “A certain amount of tact is required for this job. That's why I thought of you, your delicate nature will surely have Halliwell eating out of our hands. But remember Maren, he lives for his job and the mere mention of calories or health concerns will not be well received.”

Maren gave him the thumbs up. “So the guy is sensitive, too?” She asked, feigning innocence.

Walter, still too busy with his imaginings took her seriously. “That’s how artists are, even when they are confectioners. The perfect subject for you.”

Amused, Maren looked into Walter’s eyes. “Well, I will have to handle this baker with kid gloves then.”

Walter leaned back, his arms crossed.

“Don’t underestimate the man. Halliwell has his own baking show on primetime television and won’t make time for just any journalist.” Walter opened the drawer and placed a file on the table. “The competition has already dubbed him the high priest of diabetes. I want to avoid that kind of blunder. I am completely relying on your tact and sensitivity. Bob Halliwell refuses anyone information who isn’t willing to get down and dirty on the job."

Maren smiled, lifted her head and replied. “So I won’t be able to avoid having to taste the entire range myself?”

“That’s right,” he said, running his hand over his thinning hair. “For heaven’s sake, do not refuse anything. Just be yourself — open, inquisitive,” he choked slightly, searching for the word. “And sensual.”

Amused, Maren cocked her head to the side. Her curiosity about this confectioner was peaked. “I can definitely do sensual. You will get your article, even if I need to go to a fat camp afterwards. I’ll send you the bill for the starvation spa.”

“Yeah right, that’s what you think!” Stein growled and pushed the file towards her. “Make the story exciting from a culinary point of view, too. Although Halliwell produces sugary treats, he does advocate the use of high quality ingredients. Celebrity chefs and confectioners of his caliber are very on-trend at the moment.”

Maren flipped through the papers. “Which basically means using butter instead of margarine and honey instead of white sugar. I’ll bet you anything, that the quality Halliwell holds in such high esteem, will probably also be much more calorific.”

“That is the price of good taste,” Stein teased. “Make sure that you draw a secret or two out of him.”

Maren blew one of her blonde strands out of her face and looked up. “I intend to. Trust me, I will manage to find that fine balance between complete indulgence and healthy consciousness.”

Walter nodded, reached into the drawer and handed her a ticket. “Your flight leaves tomorrow and Lori has already booked your room. So now I’ll just wish you good luck, a strong stomach, and Bon Appetit!”

“Thanks, I’ll need all of that.” Maren pocketed the ticket and the file. “I hope Halliwell doesn’t just have candy in mind but allows himself a real meal once in a while, too.”

“He’s powerfully built but is not fat in the slightest, so I presume that is the case,” Walter said. “However,” he continued with a sly smirk, “some people apparently subsist on confectionary alone.”

Maren thought about all the amazing restaurants in New York. It would kill her to only eat candy and nothing else.

“The things you do for FLASH …” she thought while leaving the editorial office. She still needed to pack and research Bob Halliwell's back story.


Dawn was breaking as they reached John F. Kennedy airport and her plane was preparing to land. Maren was tiredly blinking towards the strip of lights on the runway, guiding the pilot in. From her window seat, she could make out a blackish red sky and the glittering lights of Manhattan. She had reached her destination.

Once inside the terminal, she freshened up in the ladies room at the airport, then collected her suitcases. She politely refused the help of a uniformed luggage porter. Five to ten dollars a suitcase? Too steep.

Maren loaded her smart bags onto a baggage cart and started walking. A big comfy bed was on her mind, I gotta get some sleep, she thought, marching towards the exit.

She was still deciding between taking a cab or the Cary Airport Express-Bus into Manhattan, when a man walked up to her.

He was a little taller than her with a broad build. His short brown hair was disheveled. In the midst of all the chaos he had a rogue’s charm, but he still seemed strikingly manly and attractive. Maren gulped.

When he looked at her inquisitively, she got lost in his dark eyes, which seemed almost black in contrast to his light brown hair. He felt strangely familiar and immediately likable from the moment she laid eyes on him.

Bob Halliwell! She suddenly realized. The photos she had seen of him so far had not done his magnetic presence justice in the slightest. She knew he was in his mid-thirties but he had retained his youthfulness, which shone through especially when he smiled.

“Are you Maren Janson?” he asked.

Wow! What a sexy, gravelly voice, she thought! “That’s me!”

Maren reached out her hand. “Mister Halliwell, how did you find me in this crowd?”

“Call me Bobby,” he urged. “I always find beautiful women, no matter how large the crowd is. Your boss described you to me. Tall, slim, blue eyes, with sassy bobbed hair.”

She looked up skeptically. “That description applies to many women.”

“Yet still I found you. When I saw you, I knew, that’s her.”

Maren looked at him in surprise. “Then I can only congratulate you on your abilities. It’s sweet that you came to the airport yourself. Especially at such an ungodly hour.”

Bob raised his eyebrows. “Have you forgotten? I’m a baker. I’m awake at this time anyway. I love the dawn.” He pointed to his companion and then to Maren’s luggage cart. “My colleague can take care of that. I thought it might be more comfortable for you to be picked up.”

“That’s very nice of you”, Maren replied and meekly and gratefully let herself be led through the crowd by Bobby.

When they stepped outside of the terminal building, as they were walking to his luxury limousine, as if from nowhere, a storm of flashbulbs suddenly broke out all around them. Bobby winked at her, “How does it feel to be the one in the spotlight for a change?”

“Not as unfamiliar as you might think,” she smiled coyly as she ducked into the car.

Although privately she was wondering, do they really need to take my picture when I’m completely exhausted and getting off a long-haul flight? From the car, she observed as her American counterparts crowded around Bobby.

A reporter pushed towards the car. “Who’s the woman?” he called out, as Halliwell’s bodyguard pushed him back. “A new assistant on your show?”

“No comment,” Bobby said, whilst blocking another oncoming reporter. He was unfazed by all the commotion surrounding him and with one relaxed movement, settled into the seat next to her.

“Drive,” he told the chauffeur commandingly and then solicitously made sure that Maren was sitting comfortably. Maren breathed a sigh of relief as the car started, the mob of reporters dwindling quickly into the background.

“Annoying,” Bob sighed and his gaze lingered on her face, “but as a successful reporter you must also know how the other half feels.”

“That’s true, once someone’s fame surpasses a certain level, then they’re fair game for the media. Then I have to admit we can be pretty relentless.”

“I try to see the positive in everything,” Bobby admitted. “My famed taste for sweetness will now be making headlines for a very different reason.”

“In what way?” Maren wanted to know.

He smiled at her as his gaze took her all in. “What could be better than to be caught in the company of a beautiful woman early in the morning?”

“Ah!” Maren laughed, in what she hoped was an enigmatic way. “But don’t get the wrong idea. I am just exhausted and so perhaps a little more pliant than usual.” Then what he had said struck her, she hesitated. “Do you really think I’m sweet?”

“Very sweet actually,” Bobby admitted, “And despite your long trip, you don’t look tired to me at all. Your deep-blue eyes are sparkling. I am sure you will make a splash on the pages of New York’s tabloids.”

Flattered, Maren waved his compliment aside, regaining her composure, “But that’s not why I’m here. You, Bobby, have to make a splash on the pages of FLASH for my readers.” She looked out into the streets, where traffic was slowing down.

“This is our common goal,” said Bobby. “But before we start with that, you will have to rest. After breakfast at my café, I will take you to your hotel.”

“Breakfast?” Maren quickly sat up. “At yours?” In preparation of the sweets that lay ahead, she hadn’t eaten anything but a little fruit since getting the assignment. She was in the mood for a hearty brunch with scrambled eggs and dark rye bread and not for sweet cakes and tarts.

The car began to slow down. It took a right turn and drove a few hundred yards down an alley and came to a stop behind a high rise.

“Take Miss Janson’s suitcases into the hotel,” Bobby instructed and helped Maren out of the car. He gallantly offered her his arm and led her through a narrow alley to the main road.

“The front of the café is worth seeing,” he explained while pointing at the large glass façade that framed the elegant interior perfectly.

Intrigued, Maren's eyes were drawn into the dining room. Apart from all the buffet tables from which the visitors were helping themselves, the interior design was reminiscent of a traditional Viennese coffee house.

“Come,” said Bobby, warm yet commanding at the same time. He opened the door. The murmuring voices swelled up and enveloped her, warm scented air wafted around her and she immediately felt relaxed and her guard dropped. An enticing aroma of herbs, garlic, lemon, and fruit filled the whole room.

“I thought this was a café,” she muttered as her mouth started to water.

“It is” said Bobby happily, “My six-times a day café. Six is my favorite number.” He gave Maren a meaningful look.

“Six or Sex?” she rebutted cheekily, interpreting his look, she hoped, correctly.

Bobby laughed. “Well, if you are asking: I like both.” He winked at her.

“Like most artists,” Maren countered.

“Six meals a day — how does that work?”

“Breakfast, second breakfast, lunch, afternoon tea, dinner and a midnight feast. Not all of my guests can stomach sweet pastries first thing in the morning before they go to work. You can have those too, of course, but mostly they’re served in the afternoon. Veggie tarts and quiches dominate the menu until after lunch.

Bobby led her through the stylish and elegant café. He noticed immediately that all the men in the room turned to look at his beautiful companion. Bobby understood their reaction well. It also struck him that the room had filled with sexual electricity since Maren had appeared.

This woman had that certain something, he thought, as he noticed how conversations had stalled and some men were craning their necks.

Bobby stole a glance at Maren. She looked good enough to eat. Her long, slender legs, emphasized beautifully by the stilettos she was wearing, and her elegant walk, enthralled him. She was wearing a figure-hugging blue dress that stopped just below the knee, accentuating her feminine curves. Her make-up was discreet, which made her seem refreshingly natural.

Maren didn’t seem to notice the attention she was attracting. Her eyes were fixed on the buffet table, making Bobby smile to himself.

“Hungry?” he asked.

“Very.” Maren stopped and looked around. “I’m surprised. I hadn’t imagined a 24-hour café to look like this.”

“Yes, it’s more like a restaurant, although I do believe the description of a café still applies. At my place, every meal must be aesthetically presented and served as a cake or tart.” He pointed at the bar with the fruit.“Would you like to start with an aperitif or a fruit juice?”

“That would be great,” said Maren “The berries look delicious.”

Bobby guided her forward. Only now Maren noticed that the café was spread out over multiple levels with a wide spiral staircase leading to the upper floors. Cozy seating arrangements filled every window bay and alcove on each floor. Maren recognized some of New York’s most famous faces. The mayor was having breakfast with a few other men at a private table and two well-known actors were engrossed in a lively discussion near the windows, whilst an opera singer was happily reading while breakfasting at a nearby table.

Bobby led her up onto the mezzanine to a window seat in the corner, which offered a view across the café and out onto the street. The table was situated away from the rest of the room and surrounded by plants, which allowed for a certain amount of privacy. Maren suddenly noticed that this was the spot reserved for special guests.

“How about a wild berry juice?” Bobby suggested. When she nodded, he ordered the cocktail before taking a seat opposite Maren. “Feel free to try everything; sample from the buffet as well.” He winked at her. “As long as you’re here, you’re my guest.”

A short while later, the waiter returned with Maren’s wild berry juice, a small pot of coffee, hot milk, cream, and brown sugar. As he carefully laid each item out on the table, Maren’s mouth began to water again.

Corn fritters, several quiches and vegetable tarts filled the table. A variety of dips and salads were displayed on a spectacular porcelain platter, layered on top of one another like a three-tiered wedding cake. The waiter approached their table with the next course — its aroma enticed Maren’s senses.

“Cheese-Managala-cake,” Bobby proudly explained, “and this little tart with the golden-brown crust is called Spanakopita, a Greek spinach and cheese pastry.”

Maren ate with a hearty appetite. Her initial worry about leaving the country completely full of cake, was disappearing with each bite she took.

For a little while, it was quiet. Maren was concentrating completely on her breakfast. Still, she noticed how much pleasure Bobby was taking in her enthusiasm for his food.

Sated, Maren sipped on a cappuccino. It was only then that Bobby presented her with a small selection of pralines and sweet tarts. From the get go, she was completely won over.

Bobby Halliwell had turned out to be a lovely guy and an imaginative confectioner. Maren’s fears of how this assignment might turn out were quashed — she had to concede, he had won the first round.


After the exquisite breakfast, Bobby returned her to her hotel. She immediately fell onto the bed — exhausted and comfortably full.

“Who would have known that a baker could be so sweet that I’d want more from him than just his candy,” she murmured and settled herself into the pillows. “And six is his lucky number …”

Pleasantly exhausted, she closed her eyes. The very next moment, she was soundly asleep.


When Maren awoke it was already early afternoon. She’d agreed to meet Bobby in the bakery once she was rested.

She indulged in a long shower, then reached for a small bottle from her cosmetics case and dabbed the perfume behind her ears and on her cleavage. A barely discernable and understated scent of rose enveloped her. At the thought of her meeting with Bobby, her nipples hardened. Maren was already turned on by the mere thought of him. This pastry chef appealed to her so much so that he had already penetrated her dreams.

Maren felt a pleasant tingle between her legs. Was Bobby as relaxed and open-minded when it came to other things? Would he respond to her as he had in her dream? Going by his previous comments, it would seem so. Today she would absolutely try to coax her candy maker out of his shell. Imagining him inside her turned her on and she felt the wetness between her legs.

Maren applied her clear lip-gloss, left the bathroom and opened her closet. She decided on lacey lingerie embroidered with pink and red roses. She then slipped into a turquoise summer dress. The neckline accentuated her curves in all the right places.

She took one last look in the mirror and her gaze was met by a pretty blonde with sparkling eyes.

“Fairly presentable,” she thought happily and left her room.


Maren made her way to Bobby’s café on foot. She quickly assumed the fast-paced rhythm of a Manhattanite. She had only walked for fifteen minutes before she turned onto the street where Bobby’s bakery and café were. When she caught sight of the newly familiar sign of the bakery, she sped up, her heart beating ever so slightly. She looked through the café window, and was briefly distracted by the magnificent display of cakes, but her eye automatically located Bobby at the counter.

He grinned at her through the window. Maren’s pulse quickened still further. She took a deep breath, opened the door, and stepped inside.

Bobby handed an older lady her cake box as she said her goodbyes. As she walked off, Bobby allowed his eyes to wander over to where Maren stood. “You are even prettier than I remember,” he said.

“Then something must be wrong with your short-term memory,” Maren hit back. The shop bell rang and the door closed behind the last customer.

Bobby laughed. “My memory is perfect. May I be frank? You look like a seductive dream.”

…And despite your slim figure, you have padding in all the right places, he continued silently to himself. The tight dress clearly outlined the contours of her perfectly formed breasts. Her blonde hair framed her beautiful face. He would have loved to have kissed her full lips and discovered her body right then and there.

Maren felt his eyes upon her. She casually strolled over to the glass cabinets to see what was on offer, consciously accentuating the movement of her hips.

“You work the counter yourself?” Maren turned to him.

“Not usually,” he replied “I just come by once in a while. The customers like it and it’s good for business. Today I’m just here because I was waiting for you.” At that moment, a side door opened and an older woman appeared.

“This is Mary,” Bobby introduced her and took off his apron. “She sells my creations and is an unbeatable saleswoman.”

“Selling the best of the best isn’t exactly an art form,” Mary laughed.

“Thanks for the compliment.” Bobby pulled on a casual blazer. He gave Mary a friendly nod and left the pastry shop with Maren.

As they strolled down the street together, Bobby chatted charmingly. He observed her out of the corner of his eye. He even found the way she walked arousing. The roll of her hips and her sensual movements reminded him of a playful cat. But that wasn’t all; she was also sweet, good enough to eat. And that’s exactly what he had in mind.

Bobby inhaled the scent of Maren’s perfume. It followed her like a breeze, light and discreet. This woman had an innate understanding of the right measurements, he thought. I wonder if she has a sweet tooth? He asked himself. She had already proven she was excited by savory foods — surely she’s into the sweet stuff, too. I bet that’s how I can get her. And then when she opens up her legs for me …

His smartphone rang and he flinched.

Maren studied him while he was on the telephone. He didn’t seem happy about the call, his look was serious, his forehead wrinkled. He ended the conversation and looked into her eyes apologetically. “Something’s come up, unfortunately I can’t postpone it.”

“If you’re busy, I can go window shopping today,” she suggested.

Bobby nodded. “That would be great. And I will make it up to you tonight with a party. You will be my guest of honor. My driver will pick you up at 8:30 p.m.”

Maren nodded and Bobby gave her a fleeting kiss on the check. That touch, as subtle as it was, sent shivers down her spine.

“Expect some sweet temptations at the party,” his voice was close to her ear now. “I’m hoping you won’t be able to resist.”

Maren’s heart was beating wildly. The throbbing in her groin intensified.

No, she thought, I am sure I won’t be able to resist your sweet seductions. But the temptations she was thinking of had nothing whatsoever to do with creamy eclairs, apple pie, strawberry shortcake, or gateaux.

Maren felt a hunger rise in her body — one that could not be satiated with food. Her insides contracted, almost painfully so, when Bobby said goodbye.

What a shame, she thought. A party wasn’t exactly what she had hoped for. But perhaps, long after midnight, something could happen …

She pulled herself together and continued down the street. Let’s see what chic dresses New York had on offer this season.


The chauffeur arrived on schedule and opened the car door for her. Maren, who was expecting New York’s celebrities to be at Bobby’s party, had dolled herself up to the nines. And she was sporting her newly purchased dress made of shiny black silk. As the car passed through the streets of Manhattan she wondered if Bobby had invited many guests and what kind of food he would serve.

Shortly after, the limousine slowed and passed Bobby’s café. There, a crowd of people had gathered and were jostling to get inside. Maren could see through the window that the café was already jam-packed. The driver continued a few more yards and then guided the car through a narrow alleyway. At the back of the high rise he stopped. Getting out, he opened the car door and helped Maren step out of the car. Courteously, he accompanied her to the front door, rang the bell and waited until the concierge opened and let Maren into the house.

She took the elevator, and moments later found herself standing in front of Bobby. He looked good. Freshly showered, he was wearing casual pants and a t-shirt.

Concerned, Maren stared at him. Was she overdressed?

“So glad you’re finally here,” Bobby greeted her and lifted her shawl from her shoulders. “Mmm … you smell good.” His lips grazed her cheek before he led her into a space the size of a ballroom.

A long table, invitingly covered with sweet delicacies, was set against the far side of the room. The walls were papered red. Another table, about fourteen by fourteen feet, stood in the center of the room. A red cloth was draped over the table, concealing a plush cushion. Maren was even more surprised that only one chair was set at that table.

In bewilderment, she looked over at Bobby, who picked up a praline and put it in her mouth.

“Mmm, that’s delicious,” Maren said instead of asking him what had just happened. She let the chocolate melt on her tongue and licked her lips. “But you’re missing some chairs here … Am I early? Should I help you set up?”

“No,” answered Bobby. “Nothing is missing and everything is set up.” He pointed at the buffet. “Help yourself.”

Maren reached for another praline and slipped it into her mouth. She watched as Bobby opened a bottle of champagne. His gaze fixed on her cleavage.

“When will the others arrive,” she wondered. She felt her temperature rise under his gaze.

“Never.” He replied. “You are my only guest.” He poured two glasses of champagne. As Maren focused on the fizzing drink, she grew increasingly aware of a pleasant tingling sensation in her stomach … and below.

“You look stunning. Black suits you.” Bobby handed her a glass.

Maren thought back to her dream, but she didn’t want to make it too easy for him. A woman had to play these little games. “Are you telling me that you set up all these mouth-watering treats just for me?”

“For us,” he corrected her. “We’ve got the whole night to savor these little temptations. Sharing is a beautiful thing, don’t you think?”

“That’s true.” Maren smiled. “Are you trying to lead me astray? Because with this array of goodies, I will find it hard to resist your enticing offer.” She let her eyes wander over the lavish spread that lay in front of her. “But there is no way we will manage this amount between the two of us. Surely, support in the form of other guests couldn’t hurt.”

“For what I have planned with you tonight, I don’t need support.” Bobby motioned at the table “The night has only just begun. We have time. And if you can’t resist me and my delectable delicacies, of course I’d only be too happy. In fact, I’m hoping my skills in the art of seduction also appeal to you.”

He had stepped forwards and pulled her close. Maren could feel his hard manhood as he held her. “You’re quite the caramel candy yourself,” he breathed, squeezing her butt.

Maren felt his lips on her mouth. His tongue was playfully encircling hers and she played passionately into his kiss, pressing herself against him.

“Slow down, not so fast,” he stopped her. “First we need to build up some strength. Only then can I quell my hunger for you.” Bobby laughed when he noticed her stunned expression. He reached behind him and placed a chocolate dipped langue de chat in Maren’s mouth.

“Have I confused you?” His voice was husky with his mouth close to her ear. He began nibbling gently at her earlobe.

Maren felt shivers running down her back. “You have confused me,” she admitted “Just now I thought you would ravish me immediately.” She ran her tongue over her lips. “Mmm, that’s fantastic.” She looked up at him mischievously. “If I try any more of that, I might not be able to tear myself away from this temptation.” She let her eyes wander over the table, closely assessing the delicacies on offer.

Bobby smiled. “I hereby solemnly swear that you will particularly enjoy the dessert course. Because dessert will be me.” He cupped her face in his hands, turning her head to look at him. “I would love to ravage you right now, but I have my principles. In baking, cooking, decorating and in love; there’s a perfect recipe for everything, the ideal quantities, in the correct order. You are sweet, that’s why you’re saved for last, just like dessert.” His fingers traced the contours of her lips.

Maren closed her eyes at his touch. Now his fingers were stroking her temples, unleashing a flood of sensations. Breathing deeply, she followed each of his movements. He gently caressed the length of her neck down to the strap of her dress, which he carefully slid off her shoulder. He undid her zipper and let her dress fall to the floor. She was now standing in front of him in a white negligee, embroidered with roses. Her lacey bra was visible beneath the sheer fabric.

Bobby slickly unhooked her bra and let it glide to the floor. He touched her breasts gently. His fingertips brushed over her nipples lightly, teasing softly.

All hairs on her body stood up at his touch. Maren pressed herself against him and was powerless to resist. Her arms pulled him tighter and she gently bit his ear lobe as he finally found his way under her negligee. Her panties posed no obstacle for Bobby as his hand slipped between her legs.

Maren was poised, panting, and wet. She was ready to open herself to him there and then, but he suddenly let go and nodded at the table.

“I have prepared this for you. But first …” He sat down at the only chair at the buffet and pulled her down on his lap. He kissed her, reached for a plate and fed her a cherry tart. “Do you like this fruit?” he murmured.

“To die for,” Maren whispered. “I’m curious to see what else you have in store for me?” Again, her eyes swept over the buffet. “What is that over there?”

“These are very special cinnamon cookies.” He moved his hand down her legs and up her skirt. “Cinnamon is my favorite spice, which you probably know, being a top journalist and all?”

“I know that, and because of it, I will try two straight away.” Maren put one in her mouth and fed the other to Bobby. “Mmm …” she moaned. “It’s delicious. Keep caressing the insides of my thighs — it’s absolute bliss!”

“That was the plan. To stimulate your senses and drive you wild.” Bobby let one of his hands rest on her thigh and reached for his glass. He took a sip of champagne, brought the glass to her mouth and let her drink, too. The champagne fizzed on her tongue, yet Maren could only concentrate on the tingling in her groin that grew more and more insistent. One of her senses was now definitely focused on another kind of indulgence. She wanted Bobby, and to feel him inside her.

Bobby leaned back in his chair and turned her so that her back faced him. He wrapped his arms around her and buried his head in her neck. Finally, he was on the right path. Finally, he was kneading her breasts more insistently, running his hands over her waist and parting her legs.

He pulled the thin fabric of her panties aside and pushed his fingers inside her. He was being too gentle, too careful, she wanted more, wanted to really feel him. She was wet. Letting her head drop back, she pressed herself into him.

“A little caramel candy in between can’t hurt.” Maren appealed to him, “Take me!”

Bobby obeyed. He picked her up, carried her to the softly padded table in the middle of the room and laid her across it. The cushion under the fabric was soft as butter. Maren stretched out and watched Bobby undress. She followed his every movement, admiring his muscle-bound torso as she waited for him to finally come to her.

But Bobby was in no hurry. Before taking off his pants, he selected another two cinnamon cookies and placed one in each of their mouths.

“I don’t want anymore sweet stuff. I want something solid now. I want you.”

Bobby ignored her pleas. Instead he dipped his hand into a bowl of vanilla sauce and put his fingers in her mouth. Maren sucked the delicacy off his fingers. He was clearly enjoying torturing her. When she was about to protest, he finally unbuttoned his pants and let them fall to the floor.

Maren gasped for air as he stood in front of her naked, she could barely contain herself. She breathed heavily as he stepped towards her and slid her negligee down, off her body. Her moans grew louder as he slowly removed her panties. She was now lying there naked in front of him and Bobby gazed at her intently.

“I can hardly resist the temptation to pounce on you straight away.”

“I hereby give you permission to do just that.” Maren reached out her arms for him.

Bobby just smiled and caressed her naked body with both hands.

Maren drew up her legs and spread them.

Finally he would take her and …

To her horror, he turned back to the food-laden table and reached for a filled frosting bag. He squeezed whipped cream all over Maren’s body, tracing her curves with an intricate design.

He began around her nipples, moving in circular motions towards her stomach. As a finale, he squirted cool cream up into her cunt. She trembled impatiently, throbbing with desire. When he was done, he sprinkled fine cinnamon all over her. Maren could hardly contain her lust.

Bobby leant over her and licked her nipples. He languorously sucked each bud until he had licked them all clean. Next his mouth wandered further south, following the trail of whipped cream down to her belly, to feast there too. When he was finished, he got up and went to the end of the table. He grabbed Maren’s ankles and pulled her close to the edge of the table.

Now he pushed her legs wide, spread her labia apart with his fingers and lowered his mouth into her lap. He licked the cream off her, making circles with his tongue. He lapped up every last drop of cream from her damp pussy.

Maren moaned, as he continued to work on her groin and his hands slid up and down her legs. He grabbed her ass, lifted it and thrust her towards him. It felt incredible. Bobby was now sucking so hard that Maren exploded just moments later. Once the twitching of her body had subsided, he released her and pushed her back onto the middle of the table.

Finally he leaned over her, kissed her breasts, sucked at her pink tips and slid his hand between her open legs. He plunged his fingers into her, making circular motions with them. Simultaneously his thumb massaged her stiff pearl, which swelled and pulsated under his touch. Deep inside her, she was soft, wet, and ready.

“What are you waiting for?” Maren groaned and spread her legs even further.

“Don’t be so greedy”, Bobby laughed and lay on top without entering her. “Let me savor and explore you in peace. Hastiness is the killer of all pleasure. Feasting is an art form. Would you maybe like another candy?”

“No!” Maren screamed and grabbed his ass. She pushed him down, but Bobby resisted her pressing invitation.

“And I thought you loved my candies,” he joked.

“I do,” she conceded. “But there’s a time for everything. And now I only want to taste you.”

“I swear on my best cake that you will get what you want.” Bobby grabbed her. “Alright, my sweets, now it’s your turn.” He lifted her buttocks and rubbed his prick between her legs. Maren moaned lasciviously.

Bobby teased her to the edge of climax, rubbing himself on her until she could hardly take it anymore. Helplessly, she tossed her head back and forth until finally the sweet torture came to an end. He released her by plunging into her, immediately finding the perfect rhythm.

Maren opened herself up to him, wrapping her legs around him so that he could no longer escape her. Her hips circled lithely to the rhythm of his intense thrusts, while Bobby sucked her nipples once again.

Maren felt like she was ready to explode again. She was on the brink of climax and her whole being was filled with desire. He was ready, too. He groaned as he came inside her. As she reached the apex of passion, Maren felt the walls of her vagina pulsate and she writhed in pleasure.

Bobby remained on top of her. He panted heavily, burying his face between her breasts. She smelled softly of rose, but also of vanilla, sweet cream, and cinnamon.

Maren ran her fingers down his back and let them rest on his buttocks. She gently caressed his ass and played with his balls. After a little while, she could feel him growing hard again inside her. Incredulous, she looked him in the eyes.

Bobby laughed. “Are you surprised? You’re alluring, you smell wonderful, add to that the cinnamon cookies …” He slid out of her, grasped her below the knee and carried her to the buffet.

“You make me lose my mind, but I do need some sustenance,” he said and put her down in front of the table. “I have to satisfy all my sensory desires immediately and at the same time.” He slipped another cookie into his mouth and sat down on the chair.

Maren wasn’t willing to be distracted. Instead of starting to snack, she straddled him and lowered herself onto his cock. She moved up and down and gyrated. Bobby let her ride him with pleasure, while he snacked on an almond stick, drank champagne and nibbled on her nipples in between.

Once he was satiated, he held her to him, stood up and walked a few steps towards the cushioned table.

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