Cooking was Michael’s favourite thing to do. Rather, his second favourite thing. He climbed out of bed that morning with smooth, silent movements. Julia didn’t stir. He watched her pretty face as she slept off the hours of pleasure they’d given one another. Still topless, her breasts squished together as she lay on her side. Michael’s cock woke before she had. It was tempting to rouse her by sliding his dick in that cleavage or enveloping a nipple in his mouth. He’d never tire of those gorgeous, hefty tits. Or of the way her pussy gripped and pulled on his fingers and dick.
But first, breakfast, he reminded himself and his erection. No matter how much she’d had his dick in her mouth, no matter how much cum she’d swallowed, Julia would have to be ravenous after her long flight home and their fuck marathon. He laughed at the idea of his jizz being enough to feed her at all. Still thinking with my cock, he thought.
Michael pulled his robe on, coaxing his erection inside the soft cotton. The way it rubbed against the fabric didn’t help his cause, but his grumbling stomach shifted his focus. With a last lustful look to take in every inch of Julia’s endless beauty, he turned, padded into the hall, and down the narrow stairs.
That they’d even made it upstairs last night was miraculous. When he’d picked Julia up at the airport, their impatient kisses delayed several cabbies and Uber drivers, whose chorus of honking brought the couple back to earth. At a traffic light, they earned another honk when Julia ran her hand over his prominent bulge, then stroked him through his work trousers. After they’d parked, they snogged against the car with Michael’s hand up...
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Read all about the wonderful author: C Q White
Oh WOW!
That is one hot hot kitchen!