The Kitchen [M] [F] [Oral]

The sunlight streams through the kitchen window, dancing in the rippled purple glass of the hanging cat. You are standing by the counter, one eye on some exquisite-smelling thing in the oven whilst you skim through a cookbook.

The sight of you takes my breath. You’re wearing a lone blue wrap-around skirt and matching top; both hug your body in exactly the right places. It takes all my willpower not to scoop you up in my arms. As usual, you’re not wearing anything on your feet; bent forward on your delicate tip-toes, your pert backside is thrust out towards me. Your hair is held in a high ponytail, flowing down your back in a silken cascade. I don’t think you’ve noticed me. You could be pretending to ignore me, but even in profile, I can see your lips pursed in that expression of concentration you have when you think nobody can see you.

God, I want you.

I come up behind you, wrap my arms around your waist and put my lips to your neck. I’m not sure which is more intoxicating; your smell or the little gasp you make. I kiss my way higher, lifting your chin with one hand. You close your eyes and reward me with a quiet moan.

I spin you to face me, pulling you close. You smile flirtatiously; you’ve felt the growing bulge between us. I run my fingers through your hair and draw your lips to mine.

Don’t think I didn’t notice your dark eyes flick to the side. Then you stand on your toes, grab the back of my head and nibble on my ear. “You’ve got fifteen minutes,” you whisper softly.

That’s all the motivation I need. I lift you by the backside onto the worktop and push you flat. With one hand, I cup your breasts through your top. Even with the velvety material and bra, I feel your nipples stiffen; in response, I stiffen too.

In a fluid motion, I pull your top over your head. Your hair spills free of the ponytail; the sun turns it from dark brown to chestnut in an instant. Before you can take a breath, I’m kissing the curve of your breasts. You unclip your bra and moan as I suck on your hard nipple. You arch your back, giving me as much of you as you can.

I pull myself to your face and steal another kiss. Then, with a playful grin, I firmly grasp one of your ankles, raising your leg into the air. You squeal with delight as your skirt rides up, exposing most of your leg. With my tongue, I work my way slowly up your leg; your calf; your knee; your inner thigh. My free hand traces my mouth’s path on your other leg, gently tickling your soft skin. Mouth and fingertips make their way further up, drawing nearer and nearer, closer and closer.

I duck under your skirt, continuing my journey. When at last I run out of leg to play with, I take a moment to savour the sight before me. You shaved last night, removing every trace of hair from your mound. I lightly run my fingers along the smooth skin as I bring my face to within an inch of your pussy. I hear your breath quicken; you know what’s coming, but you don’t know when.

I let you wait, drawing the moment out as long as either of us can stand it. Your smell drives me wild, and I bite my lip to stop myself losing control entirely. I listen as you calm down, as you grow used to me being there.

I strike. My broad tongue runs from the bottom of your slit to the very top. Your moan is music to my ears. I reach from under your skirt and put my hand to your mouth. As I lick again and again, letting your juices cover my face, you suck my fingers. I quicken my pace, losing myself in you. Almost of their own accord, my fingers slip inside you. You’re wet, far wetter than I would have imagined. I smile as I curl my fingers inside you; you were expecting this all along.

I clamp my mouth to the top of your pussy. You begin to buck under deft flicks of my tongue. Your clit grows larger. I suck on it as I did your nipples, humming in my throat. The vibrations drive you wild. Your hands push down on my head and you scream. But there’s no stopping me now; I push back and continue to lick.

Your toes curl on my shoulders and I feel your thighs spasm. Your scream becomes a deep moan of ecstasy and you thrust your pussy against my face. Where a minute ago you were pushing me away, now you’re forcing me to stay. You ride my face, letting my tongue and fingers bring you up, up and…your taste changes. You come hard and your moan turns into a scream again.

I stand up, pushing your skirt from over my head, and wipe my mouth. Even so, I can feel your juices running down my chin. You lie on the counter in front of me, chest heaving. Your hands cup your breasts and you bite your lip, staring not at my face but at my crotch.

You slide from the worktop and drop to your knees. Your hands are shaking from your orgasm as you unzip my jeans. My cock, already hard, falls out. You grasp it firmly with one hand and bring it to your pouting lips. Your tongue rolls around the head then down the shaft. Teasingly, you part your lips and slowly…so very slowly…take my head in your mouth. Your tongue doesn’t stop moving.

I let out a long breath when you reach between my legs and pull me closer to you. I gasp when you trail your tongue down my thick vein to my balls. The pressure you put on them as you suck each in turn is incredible. Your hand slides up and down my length, gently squeezing, milking pre-come from me. You take me in your mouth once more, cleaning me.

You pump my cock, quickening your strokes. Your tongue seems to be everywhere at once, driving me crazy.

I can’t take much more. I’m going to come. Feeling the pressure building, you stop. You kiss my tip and smile. “Fuck me.” I don’t need to be told twice.

I help you to your feet and bend you over the kitchen counter. You stand on the tips of your toes, skirt bunched in one hand. I guide myself to you, sliding only my head inside. Despite having come already, you’re still tight. I pull a little further out, until only the very tip is in you.

You moan and look at me over your shoulder, a mock-serious look on your face. “Fuck me!”

I thrust inside you. Your scream makes the glassware sing. I thrust again and again and lift one of your legs from the floor. The different angle catches you in exactly the right way; your scream becomes higher pitched. I wrap your raised leg around my waist and pull closer to you. I reach around and rub your clit in time with my cock sliding into your pussy.

You contract, squeezing me. I feel the familiar sensation building. My strokes become rushed, hurried. Your moaning tells me you don’t care; you’re as close as I am. I rub you faster, bending over you and nuzzling your neck.

Waves of pleasure roll over you. You scream and buck and jerk, all the while I’m holding you in place. Your muscles clench, tightening around my shaft. I feel my own orgasm welling up; I grab your hips and with a final thrust, release myself inside you.

On quivering legs, we stand joined, breathing heavily.

The kitchen smells of sex.

The oven clock beeps.

Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/2rmctf/the_kitchen_m_f_oral