He walked through the door at his usual time to find his wife in the kitchen, so engrossed in her task that she was unaware of his presence. At first he was annoyed. He loved that she always stopped whatever she was doing to give him a hello kiss and ask about his day, but after watching her for a just a few moments, he felt something else entirely.
She was in a dress with an apron firmly secured around her. He watched as her ass swayed back in forth in time to whatever she was working on. He was always mesmerized by her ass, thinking it perfect and loving the mewling noises she made every time he sunk his teeth into it.
Tearing his eyes away he took in the state of the kitchen. Dishes were piled high along the counters and every burner of the cook top was on. She had obviously been busy with something and the whole house smelled wonderful.
Quietly, he walked up behind her to catch a peek at what she was doing. Her hands were covered in flour, strands of hair had fallen into her face and streaks of the white powder were left behind in places. He bent down and placed a kiss on her cheek before grabbing a handful of her ass.
"Sir!" she squeaked, quickly wiping her hands on the towel beside her. "I didn't hear you come home!"
She wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a quick peck before returning to her work. "How was your day?"
Without a response from him, he moved behind her, snaking a hand into her soft red hair. He heard her breathing hitch when he tightened his grip and buried his face into her neck, breathing in deeply the scent that only belonged to her. He felt the shiver run up her spine and knew that she had already grown damp.
