Cornered

We have come back early from the party. We just couldn’t wait any longer for the next stage of the evening.

As I fumble about in the kitchen with coffee cups, you go upstairs to the loo. I expect you to come back down for a drink.

What I don’t expect is a naked man in my kitchen with a cheeky grin on his face and not even a blink or shrug of embarrassment. The surprise makes me tremble and tingle below with excitement. What shall we do now?

I glide my fingers over your chest hair and tiptoe to kiss you, softly first, then our teeth and tongues clash wildly, echoing the want in our bodies.

You press against me, so I feel your hard, naked penis prodding me, pushing through my dress and knickers. You guide me backwards against the worktop and kitchen sink which form a right angle corner. My back is pressed into this alcove; your body grinds against me. As we continue to kiss, my hands glide down your back to your bottom while yours are bolder and travel up my dress, onto my knickers, into my knickers. Perhaps I am a little over-dressed.

I thrust forwards, willing you to touch me inside, to tug my pants down. I want you to do it, to show me you want me as much as I want you. I don’t have to wait. You ease them down my thighs and they drop to the floor.

Stepping out of them, I raise my left leg onto the worktop, stretching across the cooker hob, carefully kicking a couple of glasses and mugs back as I go. I want you to move closer to feel you against my already hot, wet vagina.

You eye me hungrily, as you lick your middle finger and slowly move it to the place I want it, as I grab your dick, easing my hand slowly up and down.

But I am impatient. I want you inside me, filling me now and there is no time to move from this spot. So, carefully I raise my other leg, so I am straddling the corner, one leg across the hob and the other now outstretched across the edge of the sink and draining board. Secretly, I am impressed that I can stretch so far, when I am not really that flexible. Now I’m the perfect height and position for you to get inside me with ease.

You briefly glance at my open legs, also admiring my agility, before kissing me softly and easing yourself inside. It feels wonderful and I gasp in relief, excitement and pleasure. You thrust into me hard and deep, again and again as I lean back, trying to avoid pots and pans, raising my pelvis to match your every move. We fit so well together, you and me, and I lose all sense of time and place. At times I forget we are in a kitchen.

While inside me, you twiddle and stroke my clitoris and I shudder and writhe to your fingering, feeling myself ready to burst. Faster, faster we bang against the worktop. I moan and whimper, you swear and purr, then as it feels like I can’t take any more, we both find our pinnacle, firing our own rockets, grabbing each other, embracing in sweat and sated exhaustion.

You take my hand to help me down, then we sit on a wooden chair, me on your lap, my arms around your neck, my face buried in your shoulder, your fingers gently stroking my back. I feel safe, warm, wanted and completely smitten.

 

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