"This is ridiculous." I can't believe that it's Christmastime and it's about 80 degrees in Richmond. I'm trying to bake cookies to take home to my parents. You are standing in the doorway of the kitchen, shirtless, with a beer, laughing at me.
The constant running of the oven has made it unbearably hot in the kitchen so I am down to a bra and short shorts, and I'm about ready to lose those too. I've got a beer as well, but I'm having trouble drinking it b/c I'm covered in flour.
"Whatcha making this time?" you ask, coming up behind me and kissing my ear.
"Stop that! Peanut butter. Wanna taste?" I hold up my finger covered in batter.
"Mmmm." You lick the dough off my finger, and then go back to kissing my ear.
"Tastes good, but it's missing something."
"WHAT?!?! What are you talking about?" Reaching around me, you take a fingerful of the dough and smear it on my neck. Pulling me closer to you, your hands running up and down my waist, you slowly lick the dough off my neck. "Much better," you murmur in my ear.
"Eric! Are you trying to distract me? Cause it's not working at all." I laugh. You know I'm lying because my body shivers as your tongue probes deeper in my ear.
"Oh no. If I were trying to distract you, I'd do something like this." You rub the cold wet beer bottle over my nipple through the thin fabric of the bra. It immediately hardens and I gasp. "Or maybe this." You reach for another fingerful of cookie dough and smear it on my cleavage. You then bring your finger up to my mouth and I suck deeply on it. You pull both my arms up and place them on the cupboards. "Or maybe even something like this." As you lean around me to kiss my cleavage, your hands unbutton my shorts and begin travelling downward.
"Eric, what are you doing? I don't have ti—ohh!" I break off as you sink a finger inside me. Of course I'm already wet ... it's hot as hell and you've been nibbling on my ear. You finish with the cookie dough on my breast and come back up to kiss my ear. "What was that you were saying? I wasn't distracting you?"
"Oh God, you are such a brat." My breath is coming out more labored as your thumb finds my clit and those wonderful sensations start running through my body again.
"I want – Oh GOD!" I break off again as another finger enters me.
You will not let go of my ear. "What do you want?" I cannot even speak right now and I'm starting to dig my nails into the cupboard. "What do you want, baby?" You stop to nibble on my neck for a few seconds and then hit my ear again. "Do you want me to fuck you?"
"No," I manage to gasp out. "I want you to get out of my kitchen so I finish these damn cookies."
I can feel you laughing. "Liar!" Your other hand plays with my breasts and you switch your mouth to the other ear. "I think you really want me to fuck you. Don't you?"
"Yes, I do."
"I wanna hear you say it." My panties are now drenched and you're not making it very easy for me to talk.
"Oh God, Eric. Please. I want you to fuck me NOW!"
"OK." You turn me around and kiss me as you unhook the bra, which gets tossed across the kitchen. My shorts and panties hit the floor as you bend your head to kiss my breasts and my nipples. Before your jeans and boxers join my clothes on the floor, I reach into your back pocket and pull out the condom you've got in there.
"Very convenient," I whisper into your ear. It's my turn to make you shiver now.
"Expecting to get lucky?"
You grin. "Just trying to give you a stress reliever."
You push all the cookie stuff out of the way and lift me up onto the counter. "Don't you dare wreck that dough, boy. I don't want to spend the rest of the day in this kitchen!"
You finish putting the condom on and then kiss me so I'll shut up. You pull me to the very edge of the counter and plunge deeply into me. I am so wet that my body offers no resistance. "Oh Eric, that feels sooo good." The orgasm that has slowly been building in me is about ready to burst and all it takes is a few more strokes. But when I slam my hands down on the counter for support, one of them ends up in the bowl of cookie dough. And I start laughing, once the orgasm is done, that is. Your eyes get slightly bigger and you bite down on your lip. "What? Are you OK?"
"Oh yeah. That just feels really good. But hold on."
Your hands go under my ass and lift me off the counter. I grab onto you, and of course, smear cookie dough all over your back and your chest. "Oops." I giggle. We end up on the floor, with me on top of you. Your hands on my hips are guiding me as I slowly slide up and down your shaft, taking you deeper and deeper inside of me. At least two more orgasms rip through me before I decide it's your turn. I roll us over so you are now on top of me and wrap my legs around you. Sweat is now pouring off both of us and the heat from the oven is only making it worse. I reach up to cup your face in my hands, completely forgetting about the dough and one side of your face ends up covered in cookie dough. "Oops again" and I start giggling again. Once again, your eyes get slightly bigger and this time, I contract every vaginal muscle I can.
"Oh God." You drive into me one last time and I feel your orgasm start. My fourth one starts immediately after, and I wrap my legs around you, pulling you even further into me. You collapse on top of me and kiss me.
"Wow is right. Except now we both need a shower." My voice goes up on that last syllable as you slowly pull out of me. You grin. As you take care of the condom, I stand up and reach for my beer. I take a few swigs and then rub it on my neck to cool my skin off. "This kitchen is a mess! And I still haven't finished the cookies!"
"The cookies can wait," you tell me, as you scoop me into your arms and carry me up the stairs. "We need a shower first."
I throw my arms around your neck and kiss you. "Brat."