If you can't take the heat...

There’s an old saying that goes “If you can’t take the heat, get out of the kitchen”. It makes me think of "la petite cuisine" of my friend Olivier. The kitchen of his rooftop Parisian apartment is so small that you can hardly squeeze in two bodies without being pressed up against each other. Recipe for a good time, "non"? I am in the kitchen, wearing only an apron, stirring the pot. He approaches from behind and presses his body up against my "fesses". Through his pants I feel a lusty protrusion. Mmmmm… the warm glow of arousal is so delicious! I turn around and he enters from under my apron skirt, pushing me up against the window. Why doesn’t he hang curtains? Is this a kinky "matinée" show for the neighbors? Perhaps the glass is steamy enough to blur to view. Or maybe they can see the ecstasy on my face…