Baking Cakes on the Kitchen Table

It's a hot day. I'm on the kitchen, short sundress, no undies, making cakes. The table covered in flour. Kitchen utensils and ingredients all about.

My man is due home. He has been playing football. He will have showered and arrive home damp and smelling clean, of soap and light aftershave. Love that clean smell. Getting hotter at the thought... And then he's here. I hear the car pull up. I continue mixing my cake mix, pretending I haven't heard him arrive, and he's behind me, wrapping his arms around me. Already I feel my passion aroused as he knows it will. I lean my head back and turn it towards him, and his mouth is on mine, his tongue pushing between my lips, thrusting, teasing, exploring. His hands move to cup my breasts and he teases my nipples with his fingers. His hard thighs firm against my legs, his hard erection now pushing against my buttocks.

He pushes me forward so I am leaning on the table, my bum towards him as his hand moves down between my legs and up my bare thigh. I feel him breathe in sharply as his fingers find no panties and slide into my wetness. For a while he teases my clit and then two fingers push themselves inside me. I am groaning with pleasure as he moves his fingers, in, out, in, out, circular movements, massaging my g-spot. God he's hot.

He lifts up my sundress, exposing my bare bum, and I know he can't resist. I hear him unzip his flies and then he's on me, into me, filling me. He pauses, pulls back and then again thrusts hard into me, and again and again until he almost can't stop.

Pulls back, turns me round, lifts me onto the flour-covered table. Parts my legs and stops to admire and then lick my wet pussy. He lifts my legs so they are over his shoulders and then again that hard hot cock is inside me and thrusting hard, and this time he doesn't stop