By the time I hear your key in the front door I’ve already covered the counters with spices and vegetables and am slicing carrots on the cutting board. Your habit of going straight to the gym after work gives me time to let myself into your apartment and cook a homemade dinner for you a couple of times a week; and I know that you’ll be sweetly appreciative, as usual.
“Mmm…” You come up behind me, wrapping your arms around me and leaning down to nuzzle my neck. “What’re you making?”
I keep my eyes on the knife I’m wielding, breathing deeply through my nose to enjoy your warm, sweaty scent. Something about the smell of you straight from a workout always turns me on. My pussy twitches and moistens as you kiss along my collarbone. “Stir-fry. I was in the mood for something spicy tonight. Sound okay to you?”
Turning, setting the knife down and wrapping my arms around your neck, I give you a quick kiss on the lips. Your hands move down over my ass, pulling me closer and deepening the kiss. I moan against your mouth and part my knees slightly as your thigh slips between them, under my skirt, rubbing against my heat. The rough lace of my thong causes even more friction against my clit, and I start to worry that the juices flooding my pussy are going to moisten the material of your shorts. I kiss you briefly once more and turn back to my preparations.
The olive oil is in a top cupboard, and I step up on the 6-inch riser you keep in the kitchen so I can reach the high shelves. On the step, the difference between my 5’4” and your 6” is almost eliminated. Your arms wrap around me once more, one of your hands slipping under the tight white tank top I’m wearing with no bra, and the other sliding down the flat plane of my stomach into my panties.
Your breath is hot in my ear when you whisper, “Something spicy sounds perfect. But before you make dinner, I think there’s something else I’d rather have first.” You’re twisting the ring in my left nipple and slowly rubbing my stiffening clit, and I feel myself leaning back against you and making a low noise in my throat. “I’ve been thinking about you all day… how bad I want to be inside you. Do you want that? You feel so wet.” I moan again and you press your hard cock against my ass. “Yeah, you want that, baby. I know you do. Can’t get enough of my cock, can you? My little slut.” Your last words sound like an endearment when you growl them in that low, hungry tone, but I can hear the undercurrent of authority starting to sneak into your voice, and I tremble in anticipation. “Now bend over and put your hands on the wall, like a good girl. You’re gonna take my cock, take all of it up your pussy.”
I bend at the waist over the counter, my hands flat on the wall in front of me, full tits dangling. You yank up my skirt and pull my panties to one side with one hand, taking your straining cock out of your shorts with the other. You know just how I like it, and give it to me in one hard, sudden thrust, burying your dick balls-deep inside my tight cunt while grasping both of my breasts and pinching my nipples hard. The penetration forces a grunt from me, and then you’re pounding me from behind, holding my hips firmly while I feel myself getting wetter and wetter.
“Yeah, that’s it, baby. I want to feel you come around me… want to feel your pussy squeezing on my cock. Come on…”
The muscles in my pussy start to contract, and you reach up, taking a handful of my long hair and pulling my head back. Your thrusts start coming faster, harder, and I whimper, “Oh God oh God, I’m gonna come, I’m so close, just keep fucking me keep fucking me oh God you feel so fucking good oh my fucking God.” And then I’m coming around you, juices from my pussy slicking your cock. With one more shove into me, you groan and pull fiercely on my hair and you’re coming too, shooting into me and bucking furiously against my ass. We’re both bent over, shuddering and coming together, and then for a minute we’re still, catching our breath. Your dick still impales me, and your cum trickles down the inside of my thigh.
After a moment, you plant one more kiss on my neck, and I straighten up and step down from the stool. “I guess we had dessert first tonight, hmm?” I smile up at you, and you take me by the hand, tugging me toward the bathroom.
“How about we clean up a little before we worry about dinner? I think I could go for a second helping, and the shower is big enough for both of us.” I follow you out of the kitchen, already forgetting about food, running my tongue along my lower lip, hungry for more than a meal.
Originally published January 2009