Standing in the kitchen cleaning up the dishes from dinner, I stare out the window daydreaming about the upcoming weekend. So lost in thought, I splash water down the front of my tank top.
"Shit! This is why I need a dish washer!" I peel my tank top off, tossing it off to the side of the counter. In my haste to remove my tank top, I knocked over a glass.
"Mother--!" Thankfully the glass doesn't shatter, but rather breaks in four large pieces. I bend over to pick up the pieces. Fuming under my breath, I walk over to the trash to discard the cup's pieces.
Cup pieces in hand, I don't hear you walk up behind me.
"What's with all this noise? So much yelling for dishwashing." As you say these words, you grab my arms, causing me to drop the pieces and miss the garbage. You spin me around on my heels and pull me away from the now shattered cup. I put my face in your chest, breath in your scent, and then collapse into your arms. The over whelming feeling of anger, love, comfort, and exhaustion bombard my body when my bare skin touches you.
"What happened to your shirt?"
"I splashed water on me. It felt gross clinging to me, so I took it off and tossed it to the side"
You laugh, "You should dress like this more often. No shirt, black bra, you're still in your gym shorts, which means you've got no panties on...."
I giggle at that last statement, knowing that it's true. You lean down and kiss me as I giggle, taking my breath away. I try to pull away to tell you that I need to clean up the mess I've made, but you won't let me go. Finally letting me go, I turn around and bend over to grab a broom from a lower cabinet.
Bent at the waist, I feel my shorts being moved to the side by your fingers. The tips of your middle and index finger brush against my pussy, and a moan escapes from my lips. I stop trying to get the broom and hand myself over to you. You notice that I've braced myself on the counter, waiting for your next move, so you push your two fingers in slowly. Until your knuckles are flush with me. My legs go weak as I feel your hand press against my clit and your fingers feel around my pussy.
You laugh again as you remove your fingers from my pussy. You lick them, knowing that this is not the last time this afternoon you'll be tasting me. I moan. I feel empty. I feel like I lost something. I've lost your fingers filling me. I am so upset, so unhappy. I want you to return to me. I don't want you to leave my pussy again.
Laughing, you tug my shorts down around my ankles, exposing me to the cold air. The chill only heightens the fire I feel on my pussy, and moan louder for your to take me right there. I wiggle my ass in your face, trying to tease you. Enticing you. Instead of thrusting into me, you smack my ass. Hard. The sound echoes through the room, breaking the silence. I gasp. Realizing how much this has turned me on.
