The sunlight streams through the kitchen window, the front yard and trees slightly visible beyond. You are standing by the counter, one eye on the scenery whilst you skim through your phone after a morning of cleaning and prepping for the day. The kitchen is filled with a scrumptious meal; like perfume through the senses.
*The sight of you brings me pause.*
You’re wearing a sweatshirt with your shoulder exposed and a pair of yoga pants you adore; those, in particular, hugging your body in precisely the right places. As usual, you are bent forward on your delicate tip-toes, your pert backside is thrust out towards me. I don’t think you’ve noticed me. You could be pretending to disregard me, but even in profile, I can see your eyes focused in an expression of concentration.
*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 with the motion. 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 around to face me, pulling you closer as I do. You grin flirtatiously; you’ve felt the growing desire between us. I run my fingers through your hair and draw your lips to mine.
As I peek through my closed eyes between kisses, you don’t think I didn’t notice your eyes flick to the side. You grab the back of my head and nip on my ear. “You’ve got fifteen minutes,” you whisper softly and with a flirty giggle.
That’s all the motivation I need. I lift you by the backside onto the counter and push you flat on to the cold surface. With one hand, I cup your breasts through your top. Even with the soft material and bra, I feel your nipples harden; in response, I harden too.
In a fluid motion, I pull your top over your head. 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 rob another kiss. Then, with a playful grin, I firmly lift you slightly off the cold counter and work your tights from your body. You moan with delight as the fabric rolls from your body. With anticipation and desire, I only manage to free one leg…plenty for what I wanted…
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 delicate skin. My mouth and fingertips make their way further up, drawing nearer and nearer, warmer and warmer.
When at last I run out of leg to play with, I take a moment to savour the vista 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 a centimetre 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. As I linger, your smell drives me wild, and I bite my lip to stop myself from losing control entirely. I listen as you calm down, as you grow used to me being there, the view from above probably comforting.
I strike. My wide tongue runs from the bottom of your slit to the very top. Your moan is music to my ears. I reach from under your legs and put my hand to your mouth. As I lick, again and again, letting your juices cover my face, you suck my finger. I hasten 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; I believe finally giving you what you had hoped for earlier when I fell to my knees.
I clamp my mouth to the top of your pussy. You begin to buck under nimble flicks of my tongue. Your clit grows larger. I suck on it as I did your nipples, humming in my throat both from strategy and my own moans of pleasure. The oscillations drive you wild. Your hands push down on my head, and you scream. But there’s no stopping me now; I move back and continue to lick.
Your toes curl on my shoulders, and I feel your thighs spasm. Your scream becomes a deep moan of euphoria, and you thrust your pussy against my face. Whereas 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 legs from over my head, and wipe my mouth. I can feel your juices still on my chin, and you see my gleeful smile. You sit on the counter in front of me, chest heaving and also with a delighted smile. Your hand cups your breast while the other keeps you steady, and you bite your lip, staring not at my face but at the tip of my dick pressed against my tight jeans.
You slide from the counter-top and drop to your knees. Your hands are quivering from your orgasm as you unzip my jeans. My cock, already hard, jumps as your release the zip. You grasp it firmly with one hand and bring it to your pouty lips. Your tongue rolls around the head, then down the shaft. Teasingly, you part your pouting lips and slowly…so very slow…take my tip into your mouth. Your tongue doesn’t stop forcing its way around me.
I let out a long breath when you reach between my legs and draw me nearer to you. I inhale when you trail your tongue down to my balls. The pressure you put on them as you suck each, in turn, is unbelievable. Your hand slides up and down my length, gently pressing, milking pre-cum from me. You take me in your mouth once more, cleaning me.
You pump my cock, hastening your strokes. Your tongue seems to be everywhere at once, driving me wild, really unable to pinpoint where given my closed eyes. My hands grasp on the counter where your body once was, the feel is warm, and my arms shiver as I struggle to keep standing.
I can’t take much more, I’m going to cum. I can feel the pressure building, you stop. You kiss my tip and smile. “Fuck me.” you mutter as you lock eyes with me. I don’t need to be told twice.
I help you to your feet and bend you over the clean kitchen counter. You stand on the tips of your toes, your frame lifted flawlessly to align with my own. I guide myself to you, sliding only my head inside. Despite having cum already, you’re still tight. I draw a little further out until only the very tip is in you.
You moan and look at me over your shoulder, a mockingly look on your face. “Fuck me!”
I thrust inside you. Your scream makes the glassware sing in the cabinets. I push, again and again, and lift one of your legs from the floor. The different angle catches you in precisely the right way; your cry 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.
Your body contracts, embracing 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 as you scream, 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, free myself inside you. It feels like entirety in that rush.
Together, on quivering legs, we stand joined, breathing heavily. The kitchen smells of sex.
**The oven clock beeps…**
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticstories/comments/khi42h/mf_senses_of_the_kitchen