Wednesday, August 20, 2008

A mess in my kitchen.

The colours were bursting out before me. To my side, the 2005 Vinha do Monte was breathing casually, and as I held the same wooden spoon that had graced so many women's tender bottoms, the chopped red peppers and thick slices of yellow squash tumbled in the steaming wok. I love to cook.

I spanked Mary Quite Contrary in secret with this spoon in a hotel room in Boston. I spanked Diva with it in the same week. I've spanked Heidi, the Grrl, Shayne, and several other wayward, wanton tarts with this spoon. It's a good spoon, and it always makes them squeal.

The onions were carmelizing nicely, and the button mushrooms were rolling and bouncing like marbles. The pungent diced garlic hissed as I added liberal splashes of tamari sauce and a shameless dab of fresh butter. The wine and these vegetables would make a fine compliment to the thick provolone cheeseburgers that I'd be barbecuing on the back patio.

Molly was back in town. I'd known Molly for a few years before we started becoming fuckbuddies on rare occaision, although we began as associates through the same spiritual community. Molly is a mid20s, perpetually unemployed, rubenesque longhaired brunette with a frighteningly cheerful disposition, career singer aspirations, and a penchant for having ejaculatory orgasms when sucking dick. Molly squirts, one of the precious few women I've known who accomplishes this feat of womanly nature almost as easily as I open wine bottles. Since last winter, she'd been travelling the continent in a Hyundai with some lover who had since trekked on to Switzerland, and as I cooked the veggies, she told me all about her two weeks in Mexico by way of New Orleans. We discussed the rain in Maryland, her zip through San Francisco, her excursion in New York, the horrific glass outlook over part of the Grand Canyon. We sipped the taste of Portugal as we talked.

She sat at my kitchen table and I stood over the stove. Turning and leaning in, I gently cupped and squeezed her left breast gently as I brought my lips to hers. She groaned slightly, closing her eyes, and although her kiss felt timid, it was nice to share. Her breast was large and firm in my hand, and I started to stiffen in my khaki shorts. I turned the flame under the wok off.

I had thought things might wait until after dinner, but she seemed eager. I kept enjoying her breasts as we kissed, and she started to paw at my crotch when my cock began to tent my shorts upward, the cotton brushing my cockhead with torment. She wrapped her fingertips around the bulging, covered head and squeezed, making my eyes roll back. Her kisses became more insistent as she tugged and pawed my dick over my clothes.

I stood up straight. I ran a hand through her black locks. She undid my zipper. She reached in. She looked up and into my eyes as she slowly withdrew me from my confines. Her hand was warm.

Sunlight streamed through the ivy plants on the windowsill, and the kitchen smelled like roasted garlic, as she tilted her head down slightly and started brushing her wet lips across my cockhead. I could feel the wine. I was growing thicker, harder, longer as she clutched the base of me and opened her mouth. She made muffled moans as she took my soft, taut skin past her willing lips and across a flicking, searching tongue. Then she closed her mouth over me, closed her eyes tightly, breathed deep through her nose, and with a look of satisfied determination, started sucking my cock. I took off my shirt and tossed it aside. My shorts hung around my thighs.

My head shot back and I growled. I felt my pulse quicken as Molly's ministrations could be felt deeply into my stomach. As her tongue swabbed the underside of my glans, my breathing became laboured and I lost myself in the sensual naughtiness of her wet, coiling tongue.

Soon, Molly pushed herself away from the edge of the table, and shoved the chair she had been sitting on to one side. Dropping to her knees, she readied herself for some intense sucking in my kitchen. Her hand made its way around my shaft, and she stroked me slowly as my cockhead received attention by her open mouth. Her cheeks crested in as she sucked, and I could feel the hollow as the insides of her cheeks grazed my head and shaft. Her suction was light, but she more than made up for it with her snaking tonge and eager resolve.

"Tell me what you're enjoying about my cock," I breathed down to her. She had been looking up to me, her dark eyes smiling over her mouthful of thick dick. Her cheeks were wet with spit, seething with the scent of my wet and clean cock on her face.

"I happen to just love cock," she replied with a shrug and a smile. "And this one is attached to a particularly nice guy."

I withdrew from her mouth and started tapping it on her cheeks. She closed her eyes, parted her lips, and snaked the tip of her tongue across them to taste me when I grazed her there.

"You like the scent of my wet cock all over your face, don't you?" Her eyes rolled into the back of her head.

The base of my shaft met her tongue, my full balls at her chin, the head of me tapping just below her left eye. I wrapped a hand around her head then, and gently tugged her mouth back toward me, beckoning her to suck me more. She complied happily until I was ready to change things again.

Stuffing my cock back into my shorts, I reached under her arms and pulled her up. With a resolved intention, I placed the palms of her hands on the kitchen table, stood behind her, and began to undo the belt at her jeans. Her shirt and bra were removed and set aside. Pausing for a moment to squeeze her young breasts as I noshed on her shoulder, she started panting when my hands lowered again to undo the button and zipper to her pants.

I coiled an arm around her waist, tugged her toward me, and pushed her head to the table. I lowered her pants and slowly bared her plump ass to my eye. A few tender smacks later, and her jeans were being tugged down her legs until she stepped her right foot out of them. She splayed her legs wide, the jeans left in an undignified, crumpled heap around her left ankle.

I sat down on the kitchen floor, her ass directly in front of my face. She was bent over, legs far apart, head to the table... such a wonderfully submissive posture. Her weight was displaced by her widely spread legs just awkwardly enough that she needed me to steady her, else one sock-covered foot would slide away. Nice.

I began a slow series of smacks on her ass that had her yelping quietly. I smiled wickedly to myself as I enjoyed the way her flesh responded to my tender spanks.

Licking my fingertips, I pressed them gently against her completely shaven mound, feeling her soft, pillowy outer labia eagerly meet my probing fingers. Swirling the tips of three fingers against her, I rotated her soft skin around the hood of her tiny clit, sending her into panting gyrations. She was soaked, and I could easily smell her heat as I sat casually on the floor behind her. I began probing the entrance to her wet tunnel, circling her outermost rim with a finger.

Sliding one, then two, into her body, I sought and easily found that spongy, interior mound that I was looking for. My fingers crooked just right, I pressed them against her g-spot and held them there as she swayed slightly in ecstacy. Once I began thrusting my fingertips gently, grazing and petting that happy place, Molly reminded me of one of her unique and enviable gifts.

Her back arched, and I could imagine her eyes screwed tight on her face, her mouth wide open as she started gasping loudly. Her ass tilted, her legs began shaking, and the first rapid droplets of grrlcum began spouting from her urethra. This first streamlet rained down to my shorts, staining them dark as if I had just walked past an occupied shower stall, and then she continued.

My fingers probing her gently and slowly, her asscheek in my other hand, Molly began cumming in several thin and pungent streams that squirted from her in waves and pulses. I shifted myself to one side, still sitting on the floor, as Molly literally began making a large puddle before me as she violently came. I laughed and marveled, continuing to jill her until she was shaking and spent.

"Look at what you did! Look at it!" I shouted to her in feigned anger when I stood up, pointing to the floor. "I just mopped this floor, and will you look at the mess you made?!"

She burst laughing, and feigned an apology. I, however, would not be detered from exacting a just revenge, and promptly set myself against the table and faced the other direction, my arm around her waist to hold her firmly. The ensuing barrage of openhanded smacks and spanks to her rubenesque behind left her cheeks swollen and blushing red, and Molly gasped and cried out satisfyingly after each one was delivered.

images Kate F, Girl Reporter, Totally Brunette, Real Squirt

6 comments:

swingerwife said...

Spanking AND squirting? My, what an evening you had!

Rogue said...

There was nothing on TV.

Coy Pink said...

Sounds like a fun and hot evening!

And I'm cracking up at your response to swingerwife. :-) That's the kind of smart ass thing my husband would say.

Rogue said...

Maybe I am your husband. That might explain all those long hours I've been at "meetings" and "the track," huh?

Anonymous said...

Found you on Fleshbot! Awesome!

The Fury said...

Hot stuff. Now that's cooking in the kitchen!!