Hot Ravioli

"The trick is to have all of your ingredients out and ready. That way, you don't have to go digging for them while your hands are dirty."

She bent at the waist to fetch the eggs from the bottom shelf of the fridge. Why we put the eggs at the bottom, I'll never know, but the view of her panty-clad bottom was going to ensure they stayed in that very spot. As she rose to her regular, standing posture, she gave her butt a little shimmy. She knew I couldn't take my eyes off of her and figured I should get a little reward. As if I needed any more encouragement than her wearing nothing more than an apron, red panties, and a mischievous smile.

"The next trick is actually having the right ingredients." She turned her head slightly to look at me out of the corner of her eye. "You like what you see," she asked with a sway of her hips.

My ability to speak had already left me, so a mouth-agape-nod was all I was able to acknowledge her with.

"Good," she gave her signature half-smile and returned her attention to the counter. "I promise a filling experience." She had given this treat to me a lot of thought.

She began to mix the ingredients and was eventually left with a large mound of what would eventually become ravioli noodles. Eggs, oil, salt, flour, and a lot of kneading.

"Some people like to measure everything, but I've never been too worried about my measurements." She took a hand and traced the length of her side. "How do you feel about that?"

Again, I just nodded. She cleaned up a little and prepared everything she would need for the next step. After grabbing a bowl, she turned to face me. There were light dustings of flour here and there on her apron. Part of me wondered if she hadn't strategically placed them there to encourage me to look at her chest. She was very proud of her bosom and took a slightly guilty pleasure out of catching men peering at it. As it was, I was fairly certain her apron was intended for a smaller woman since her breasts were spilling out from the sides. Again, I was not complaining.

My wife dipped her finger into the bowl of meat and ricotta cheese as she sauntered over to me. She removed her finger as she sat herself down onto my constantly expanding lap.

"I can never quite get the filling part right by myself," she said as she suggestively licked her finger clean. "Can you help me with that part?"

With some of the ravioli filling still on her tongue, she kissed me deeply.

"How do I taste?"

"Familiar," I said. "Comfortable. Happy."

She pushed herself off of my lap with palms on my chest in a mocking pout.

"Oh poo! I was going for smoldering temptress," she frowned and turned her back to me.

I stood up and wrapped my arms around her.

"I'd rather have a happy wife than a smoldering wife any day, and twice on Sunday."

She slowly ground her bottom into my groin and plastered her back to my chest. I brushed her hair to the side and kissed her neck behind her ears. I felt a pleasant shiver pass through her from top to bottom.

"Oooh, why can't I be both?" she purred.

She tried to turn, but I stopped her, wrapping my arms around the area just below her breasts. I was not done teasing her yet. I inhaled the scent of her hair. The smell was so uniquely her and one of the most erotic things about her. I transitioned to starting to nibble on her ear. With that, she began to go weak in the knees. She wriggled out of my grasp and turned to face me. She slowly started to unzip my jeans. While looking in my eyes with a devilish look on her face, she slid her hand into my pants and wrapped her hand around my cock.

"Now it's my turn to taste the meat," she smirked.

With a hand on my chest to steady herself, she melted to her knees before me. She had some difficulty sliding my hard member out of the zipper hole, but she made the trip worthwhile by slowly stroking me the entire time. When I was completely out, she kissed up and down my shaft with wet kisses. After kissing every inch, she proceeded to lick the covered territory. I lost all control over the muscles in my neck and was forced to allow my head to drop back, gasping at the sensations.

She slid her left breast out of its confines, turned herself so that I had easy access to it, picked up my hand and placed it on it, and took my cock into her mouth all in one motion. She knew I was a breast-man and had a hard time keeping my hands off of her play pillows. She knew it would bring me to completion faster, but I don't think stamina was what she was looking for from me at that moment, and merely wanted to pleasure me in the best way she knew how.

My dick being pre-moistened by her licks and kisses, she was able to take my entire length in her first bob. My pelvis involuntarily thrust forward and my hand gripped her breast. She worked me up and down about a half inch repeatedly, forcing me to expel an "aaah" of excitement and contentment. When my wife finally came up for air, she kept the head firmly ensconced in her luscious lips.

My other hand came up and caressed her cheek. She turned her head into my hand and moved my member along the opposite cheek. She moaned as she rubbed it back and forth inside her mouth. The feeling was amazing. I could tell that I was not going to last long. She must have noticed this as well because she started moving her head up and down in a rhythmic pattern. My sexy goddess also moved the hand that was on my chest down to cup my balls. She knew all the right things to do.

I didn't even have time to warn her - not that she needed it - before I erupted into her mouth. She slowed her exertions and swirled the head of my cock with her tongue. For a small and exhilarating moment, I thought I would never stop cumming. As I shuddered - a sure sign that I was nearly done - she removed her mouth from me and used her hand for the last few strokes, smiling as she showed me my essence before she swallowed it.

"Well," she smacked her lips and started to put her breast back into her apron, "how about we finish supper?"