I was cooking up dinner in my tiny apartment’s tiny kitchen when Alessa walked out of the tiny bathroom wearing nothing but a tiny bit of clothing. With just a red bra and matching panties over her smooth olive skin, I took in her graceful slenderness. And with nice tits and a round ass… well, I had to force myself to look away.
“Whatcha making?” she asked, walking over to the couch, only a few feet away.
“Just grilling up some fish,” I said.
“You didn’t have to make me a meal, you know.” She fished around in her suitcase, ass up in the air. I caught hint of the mound between her legs.
“No, it’s fun,” I said, “Plus, it’s easier to cook for two than one.”
“Cooking for one? That sounds so sad!” She pulled out a hoodie and shorts, and slipped them on. “Sucks about you and Rachel, we all thought you two’d end up getting married and all. When’d you split up?”
“Been a couple weeks now, I guess.” I scooped the dinner onto plates and set them down on my tiny dining table. “But I think I’m over it. Kind of a long time coming, if you know what I mean.”