No, you are not. You are not. ;-P
Seems I am not the only person who fantasizes about kitchen sex. Thanks for sharing this.
To say he was surprised at what he saw when he padded barefoot into the kitchen for his morning coffee, was an understatement. Never in his wildest dreams did he expect to find her naked, straddling his kitchen table, hot coffee and breakfast in front of her while his wife slept in the bedroom. Never in his wildest dreams did he expect to see her here at all, and he wondered for a moment if he might be hallucinating or sleepwalking.
“Eat,” she said. Just a single word. No greeting, no smile, no explanation. He pulled out the chair in front of her and sat, ate the scrambled eggs and bacon she had cooked, drank the coffee. All the while looking at her face, her naked body, her glistening cunt as she sat open legged in front of him. He’d been glad to sit down at the table to take any attention away from his rigid erection, but this view of her as he tried to concentrate on his food, was doing to nothing to relieve his tension. Nothing at all.
Her eyes were transfixed on his face as he ate, her glance didn’t waver, as though she were drinking him in with her eyes. And as she sat and watched, her hands moved over her own body, over her breasts, her nipples, her belly, her thighs. Gliding, caressing, smoothing, each slow movement of her fingers teasing him into a heightened state of arousal unlike anything he could remember. He could barely taste the food, barely taste the richness of the coffee that normally kickstarted his day. All the while though, even as his cock was thumping a deafening drumbeat in time with his pulse against his underwear, he was cognisant of the risk, aware that his wife could decide to wander into the kitchen at any moment. Things weren’t good between them, things hadn’t been good between them for years, but even for him, this was pushing the limits.
As he finished the last mouthful of his food, she slipped quietly from the table and took his empty plate and coffee mug to the sink and rinsed them. He watched her silently, tracing the outline of her hips and ass and thighs, unable to drag his eyes away from her delightfully puffy pussy lips. He wondered how long it would be until he could sink his cock into her, how long it would be until he could sink his tongue into her…
Then almost as though she could read his mind, she slowly leaned forward over the countertop, wilfully exposing her sex to him for the second time. It took all of his willpower not to just stand, take her by the hips and fuck her that very second, but he waited. He was used to waiting for what he wanted. He sat there silently. She stood there silently. Each waiting for the other to break.
He smiled to himself. He knew that she would break first. She was always the one to break. Always the one to say too much, do too much. He knew she wouldn’t be able to stay silent for too long.
He knew he should have some restraint. Knew he should behave like the 45 year old married man that he was, not the horny 18 year old that he felt like. But he couldn’t even remember the last time his wife had actively offered herself to him in any position, let alone bent over the kitchen counter. And well, it was only 5.15am. She never woke before 6.
Still, as he got to his feet, as he walked the few steps that separated his cock from the prize that it so desperately wanted, the very real thrill of being caught sent a shiver down his spine. The very real thrill of being caught by his wife while fucking a naked woman in their kitchen at 5am. The very real thrill that was making his cock drip, his precum soak through his trunks; the thrill that was making his balls tighten with anticipation.
Her eyes were closed, her face turned to the side, resting on the cool of the counter top. She looked remarkably happy and content, and he had an overwhelming urge just to lean over and take her face in his hands, kiss her and hold her and talk to her and laugh with her and do all the things that they’d wanted to do for all this time. But at that moment, she wiggled her ass cheekily at him, a wry smile flitting across her face, and he couldn’t help himself.
He eased down the waistband of his trunks freeing his cock, then lower to release his balls. Grasping his erection firmly in his hand, he held his breath as he touched her for the first time, sliding his wet head slowly along the swollen lips of her cunt. As his cock caressed her clit she inhaled sharply, pushing back against him. “Just fuck me baby,” she whispered. “Now.”
And he did. Hard and deep and fast and desperate. His thighs slapping against her ass, his balls slapping against her clit. She was everything he’d imagined, unbelieveably wet and warm, her cunt working his cock, her ass pushing back against him with every thrust, their bodies pounding against each other. He leaned forward and pushed her dark hair to one side, bit down on the flesh at the base of her neck. He knew that she loved to be bitten there, but he didn’t expect her feline response, arching her back, a long low purr emanating from her throat. His knees weakened for a moment and he suddenly felt the desperate urge to cum.
This was insane. He always orgasmed quickly in at this time, his eager morning erection reading to blow its load at a moments notice in the shower. But that wasn’t what he wanted now. He wanted this to last. He tried to slow her, with his hands on her hips, but she was having none of it. “No, I want you to cum,” she growled. “I haven’t come all this way for a half assed performance. I want you to fuck me hard. I want to hear you grunt as you fill me. I want to feel your hot spunk dripping down my thighs.”
“Fuck,” he cursed. He didn’t think this was how it should be the first time, but she was insistent and with the ever present spectre of his wife at the back of his mind, he knew he should just let go.
“Are you sure?” he gasped, his voice ragged with the effort of holding back. He just wanted to keep fucking. Fucking, fucking, fucking. He didn’t want to cum, didn’t want to stop holding her hips, pulling her back against him, didn’t want to stop this, this, this.
“Cum. Cum for me now baby. I promise there’ll be other times. Tonight, tomorrow, lunchtime, whenever you want. I’m here for you. I’m here for you to fuck me. I’m here to fuck… you…” she gasped, struggling for words, her knees buckling; and he felt her cunt clench around his cock as her orgasm surged though her body. The waves of constriction around him were too much, she was milking him again and again and again. His balls tightened and throbbed and he came inside her hard, pumping his cum deep and wet and warm, in wave after wave after wave of intensity.
He leaned over her, his hands on the counter on either side of her body, and they stood together, his chest against her back, struggling to catch their breath. Finally, they straightened upright and she turned to face him.
“Hi.” She finally smiled, a big happy smile and he knew that things had played out exactly as she had planned.
He raised one eyebrow. “Well, hello there.” She took his face in her hands and kissed him long and hard and with all the passion that was missing from his life.
“I’ll be in touch” she whispered, and then she was gone.
~ Isabella ~