The Subject Was Peaches

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AUTHOR'S NOTICE: The following story contains erotic descriptions unsuitable for UNDER 17's. Please do not inudate F'Freak's email box with complaints –– You have been warned!

The Subject Was Peaches

The story takes place the summer after Danisha (F'Freak's fanfic alter ego) rescued Claude Frollo from his dungeon.

Everything is cool...Hot Fun In The Summertime...

Sly Stone crooned from the car's CD player as Claude and I engaged in a lively conversation. Claude tapped his toes to the lively beat of the music while his eyes took in the wooded wilds of Southern Indiana –– Monroe County to be exact.
"Ah, Danisha! This is such beautiful countryside – I'm so glad your friend was kind enough to lend his cabin."

My 'friend' was actually a parent — a well-heeled executive for a major real estate corporation – whose son came to me last semester in need of tutoring. As I told Claude, the boy, a really nice kid, was struggling in nearly all his classes. All that individual attention paid off handsomely as this kid, who "busted his butt" to get just C's, made the Honor Roll for the first time in three years. His father was so impressed that he offered some monetary reward, but I refused. Then he suggested the use of his summer cabin located twenty miles south of Bloomington.
Well...He's grateful I helped his son...It is awfully nice of him to offer...But...What the heck...It's hot in town...And Claude's here...What a way to wrap up my sugarbritches' summer vacation...

"Danisha, I can't believe that, in a few days, I'll be back in Paris, in my time." Claude sighed as he donned his new shades – I bought those for him. They were rather oversized, aviator-styled, with mirror lens. He looked so adorable that I couldn't stop gushing.
"Oooh, sugar! Don't you look dashing!"
"Now, darling, you know my eyes need protection from this harsh Midwestern sun..."

Indeed, Claude's only complaint during his entire vacation was the heat. The temperature soared into the nineties during those first few days, and I was determined to make Claude's stay as carefree as possible.
I took him on a whirlwind tour of my hometown and showed him all the historic and cultural landmarks. We shopped, attended outdoor concerts, even took in a baseball game at the new Victory Field. However, the chief complaint was the heat.
"My dear, I don't ever remember a summer in Paris quite so hot and humid. Why, it's as close to...", Claude began while he slid another CD into the player – I think it was Millie Jackson this time. Uh, Claude...feeling a little 'hot 'n' horny' today? Millie Jackson can get mighty raunchy...Oh well, as you always say, "No Matter"...

"Danisha, are you listening to me?"
"Sorry, honey, but I'm too wrapped up in what Millie's singing about...Honestly, Claude, I didn't think you'd go for all this soul music..."
Claude laughed, leaned over to kiss me, then said, "Nisha, my darling, I can think of nothing more suitable on such a sultry summer day..." Then he softly kissed my cheek, pausing momentarily to allow his tongue to graze my earlobe. I sweetly scolded him to stop, but the tone of my voice belied my protests.
"Not now, sugarbritches. I need to keep eyes on the road. Besides, I want to stop at this little farmer's market and buy a few peaches. Uh...You do like peaches, don't you?"
Claude moaned softly, his breath was hot against my neck as he worked his tongue alongside my shoulder. "Danisha, my mouth is literally watering in anticipation."
All I could do was slow down the car and laugh as he continued to fan the flames of my desire. I returned his many caresses, saying, "Claude, baby...I think you have more than peach pie on your mind..."

++++++++

The farmers' market was actually a cramped roadside stand located on a country road just outside Bloomington. I remembered it during my college days, when a bunch of students would journey down for pumpkins and apples in the fall, and strawberries in spring. I told Claude that the peaches, at least in this part of the state, are usually at their peak. So I offered to bake my famous peach pie as part of our first supper in the summer cabin.
I had no idea what to expect once we arrived; Mark told me that the refrigerator and pantry would be fully stocked so I shouldn't worry about grocery-shopping...But still...

My mind was called back to the present when Claude approached me; he carried two hefty honeydew melons. But I don't think his eyes were focused exactly on the fruit. Oh, I know what he's doing...He did this before...When we ran into each other that summer, back in the 15th...I was buying fruit at that neat street market near Notre Dame...He had to get in a few smart jokes...

"Nisha, these melons look marvelous. So large, so firm, so incredibly...Mmmm...sweet..." His eyes were firmly focused on my body. Now, I suddenly thought, here I am dressed in these cut-off jeans – and they ain't loose – and this tank top that's fits a little too tight. Showing my legs, the shape of my breasts and butt...My hair's loosely tied back...NO makeup...Only these sandals on my feet...Claude's seeing a lot more of me than...Oh what the hell...I'm in MY time! And it's HOT! This is what I wear...No wonder he's extra-horny today...

"Yes, Claude", was about all I could muster, but my eyes wandered over to the zucchinis. Mmm...nice, firm, the right size, too... I grinned broadly as I selected several summer squash, all ranging from about eight to ten inches in length; they were firm and shiny. I eyed Claude when I showed him the zucchinis. it was then that he knew "which-way-was-up" because we immediately launched into a hilarious game of 'double-entendre'.

"Hmm...Claude? How about a nice zucchini sauté with some of these firm, ripe tomatoes thrown in?" My eyes shifted from the long firm squash to his long firm body. Claude was clad in a modern summer outfit of sprayed-on bluejeans and a cotton shirt of the palest violet. I – No, I believed it was the heat – convinced him to ditch the heavy dark clothes he normally wears. Actually, Claude never looked more relaxed, more at ease.
My eyes roamed all over his body, and stopped long enough to admire the way the dark blue denim gripped his slender legs and his bulging masculinity.Oooh, sugarbritches...And you wonder why I slapped that nickname on you...Yeah, baby...What's inside those britches tastes so sweet, so mellow...

Anyway, this 'fun with food' game went on until Claude gently reminded me that, "We really should be on our way, my love. For I am extremely anxious to get out of this heat..." He stood dangerously close to me as I picked out a dozen large juicy peaches. "Mmm...Out of this heat and into a cool shower, and perhaps slip between cool sheets..."
"Claude!", I whispered, "This heat's messin' with your mind. As soon as I pay for this, we'll be on our way." He smiled broadly then picked up a peach, sniffed it, then cooed, "I shall feed this to you, before we make love."
I tried not to laugh when I shot back, "Aw, gee! That means one less for the pie." He laughed then continued to stand oh-so close to me; I suddenly felt something long and hard pressing against my butt.

"Uh, Claude? Either that's a zucchini you're poking me with, or you're one mighty happy man!"

++++++++

At last! After consulting the map for the third time, coupled with Claude's patient navigation, we wheeled into the long drive that led to Mark's summer cabin. It was a long, winding road that cut through thick forests and limestone hills. Claude commented on the various trees and wildflowers as I slowly drove the narrow gravelled road.

"This is so beautiful, my darling. A place of quiet tranquility where we can fulfill our desire..." He leaned close to me as we approached the house; then he took a deep breath, sighed and moaned, saying, "Danisha, no one or nothing will disturb us the entire weekend. I want to make love to you with such abandon..."
"You mean do it till we pass out?"
At once, Claude Frollo burst out laughing and couldn't stop until I parked the car in the rear driveway.

++++++++

When we walked around to the front of the house, we were met at the door by a tall buxom blonde who appeared to be Mark's girlfriend. How did I know this? His kid told me that, "Dad has this girlfriend - She's OK, but...Ever since Mom died, Dad's been kind of lonely, so my uncle fixed him up with Candi."

"Candi" appeared to be in her early twenties, and she seemed like she'd be more comfortable in a nightclub than the wilds of Monroe County. She was clad in white shorts and a tank top. Her deeply tanned skin contrasted sharply with her sun-bleached hair.
I looked at her, then I looked at Claude. Baby, you better put your eyes back in your head...She's definitely not your type...
But Claude only casually acknowledged Candi's presence as she handed me the keys to the cabin. "Markie said you'd be here around noon. There's a fridge full of food and the bar's all stocked up," she said in a cute little girl voice although I highly suspected that it was a put-on.

Candi then went to explain that, "Markie made sure everything was comfortable for you two..."
Then she eyeballed Claude who had hastily excused himself to admire a patch of wildflowers growing near the cabin.

"Hmm...", began Candi, "he must be hell in the sack." She eyed Claude up and down, although he was totally oblivious to all the attention. I just looked her squarely in the eyes and whispered back, "Oh, honey, if you only knew...My Claude loves his chocolate milk!"
That said, we both broke up in laughter then Candi headed for her car: A bright-red Corvette convertible – A present from "Markie".

After she left, Claude returned to the front of the house and favorably commented on the surrounding grounds, although he didn't have too many favorable words for Ms. Candi.

"My dear Danisha, did you know your friend has a pool in back? And that garden! My love, I have a feeling this will be a most memorable weekend. However..."
"Your thinking about Candi", I replied, trying to perfect Candi's bubbleheaded vocalese, "'Markie's sweet young thing'? I saw you feasting your eyes all over her. And before you say anything, I'm not jealous –– Why should I be jealous?"

Claude took me into his arms, softly chuckled, then said, "Darling, never did I consider adding Mlle. Candi to my long list of FSMs. She may be attractive on the surface, but..." He kissed me, then laughed upon adding, "I'm not wholly attracted to...What is your word...'Airheads'?"
I could only return his laughter, then told him my assessments of Mark's 'friend'.

"Claude, I'll let you in on a secret. I studied Candi real hard, and I can tell you that Candi is not all Candi."
Claude looked at me and raised an eyebrow as we walked up the steps onto the front porch. Before I could barely get our few bags inside, he finally had to ask, "And what did you mean by that? Er...Mlle. Candi is not..."
"Silicone City, baby...Couldn't you tell those were fake?"

At once, Claude Frollo laughed long and hard; he knew exactly what I was talking about.
Long ago, I explained to Claude the wonders of 'plastic surgery' when he had asked what it is, and wondered if I had ever considered surgically altering myself.
"No way!", I shot back. I happen to like my body – why would I want to mess up what the Good Lord gave me?

Upon entering the cabin, Claude grabbed me, kissed me, then said to me, "Danisha, you have the most breath-taking body. All these plump curves, so feminine, so...ummm...natural."
"OK, Claude...Now, can we get settled? Then you can play with my body all you wont."

++++++++

This is a cabin? Looks more like one of those dream summer homes I've seen in House and Garden...

Claude and I entered the vast living room; I dropped the bags on the floor as my eyes took in the impressive interior. It had a warm, inviting presence with its polished hardwood floors and walls, the huge fireplace – though I doubt we'd have much use for it now. The room was comfortably furnished with chairs, a couch and two loveseats. Little tables scattered here and there, and Claude was especially intrigued by the many pieces of modern art that adorned the walls and perched on tables and shelves.

"This is so fabulous!", I exclaimed to Claude, who wondered what the bedroom looked like. Is that all you think about, sugarbritches? Let me see the kitchen first...Then we'll mosey upstairs...

Claude started up the spiral staircase, eyed me up and down, then said, "My love, although the drive down here was pleasant, I am rather uncomfortable..." His eyes narrowed; his mouth curved into that famous toothpaste smile.
"Ummm...Join me in a nice shower?"
I stared right back at him; my gaze was as slow and deliberate as his. "Sugarbritches, don't use up all the water...I'll be up as soon as I check out what's for supper."

"Well, Danisha, you'll be...hmm...'up'? My dear, I'm the one who should be...'up'." That said, Claude burst into boisterous laughter, and I matched his humor.
"Good one, baby!", I shot back as I handed Claude his bag then headed for the kitchen.

Did I say that Mark's cabin was wonderful, fantastic? That was an understatement. When I walked into that kitchen my eyes popped. It was a gourmet cook's dream come true; everything was new and state-of-the-art.

Mark wasn't lying...He said he'd have this place well-stocked...Look at this bar! The pantry's full...The fridge is loaded with all kinds of goodies...

I began selecting items for our first supper in the cabin. Let's see...here's chicken...I can grill that...serve with some sautéed zucchini, a good wine...and peach pie...Sounds good to me...

I emptied the peaches into a bowl, then started to gather the ingredients for the pie. I thought, while Claude was in the shower, I could get a jump start on the pie. Make the dough at least...the rest is easy...Oh what the heck! Dinner can wait...I want to play with my sugarbritches...

I wandered back into the living/dining area and began flipping through Mark's CD collection. Ooh...Old 1970s stuff...Teddy Pendergast, Ohio Players, Eagles, Carole King...Hmmm, let's see if 'Teddy Bear' can put me and my Claude in a real sensual mood...

At that moment, Claude called to me from upstairs; his voice took on the most sensual tone when he said, "Darling? Could you please come up here? You have to see this...this bedroom!"

He then emitted a deep, wickedly erotic laugh when he added, "Ah yes, my love. Bring the peaches."
I couldn't see him, but I could've sworn Claude had on not one stitch; I could almost sense his beautiful nude body wriggling in amorous anticipation.
Sugarbritches, are you starting without me? Well, I can move sexily, too...But you already know that...Are you hungry, Claude? Hungry for peaches, and for me? 'Cause I'm starvation hungry for your...ahem...Mmmm

Uh oh...What is this about the bedroom? What're they going to do with the peaches?
Click Here for the conclusion of The Subject Was Peaches

Please be advised that this story is for OVER 17s ONLY! This story contains erotic descriptions that may be objectionable to readers under 17.

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