She hates black coffee, forgot to buy cream, but her husband has the solution
“Would you like some cream, ma’am?”
“No, thank you.” She blinked away her tears. This poor server couldn’t know how much hurt was hidden behind that question.
Lydia had changed to drinking her coffee black ever since… It hurt to even think about it. Things had deteriorated so quickly.
She remembered the first time like it was yesterday. They had been students, and it had started out as a joke, really.
“I forgot to buy creamer,” Lydia complained. Herbert chuckled. “I can give you some cream.”
“Oh, that’s gross.” She wrinkled her nose.
“But is it worse than drinking black coffee, which you despise?” He tapped her nose. “Come here, help me try it.” He pulled his cock out of his pyjama pants. “It’s hard and ready for you.”
Lydia giggled and quickly wrapped her hand around it. “I’ll help. I know you won’t really do it.”
“Oh no? So, now it’s a dare?” He closed his eyes as he enjoyed Lydia’s ministrations. It didn’t take him long to reach his orgasm. He pushed her aside, grabbed the cup of coffee, and shot his load into the steaming liquid.
Lydia gasped in shock. “You didn’t!”
He licked his lips and grinned. “Oh yes, I did. It’s all yours.” He handed her the coffee.
She twirled the newly added proteins through the beverage and carefully took a sip. She cringed and shuddered.
“All of it, dear. Show me you love it.”
She chugged in the remainder of the coffee.
“That’s quite a turn-on to watch, my dear. I think we should do it more often.”
“Oh, hell no.”
But they did. First, only at the weekends, but later it became part of their daily routine. Herbert forbade her from using creamer in her coffee, so she only drank one cup a day, garnered with his special essence.
But then he fell ill. He wasn’t the youngest, and they should have seen it coming, but his disease hit them by surprise. He tried so hard to keep their ritual alive, but it became more and more troublesome every day.
Herbert filled a jar with his cum before he went to the hospital. It wasn’t the same as their previous ‘live deliveries’, but Lydia did add a couple of drops every morning. And now the jar was empty. And Herbert wouldn’t come home.
So no, she didn’t want cream in her coffee. And black coffee repulsed her. She would have to forgo coffee for the remainder of her days. The memory of the taste was all she had left.
I miss you, Herbie.