August MacGregor

Celebrating Sensuality. Intended for mature audiences, 18 and over

Too Hot in the Kitchen (Part 3)

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[This is erotic fiction meant for mature readers only.
Previous parts of this story: part 1 and part 2.]

Then his lips were off of her lips, and they were on her nipples. With each of his hands cupping a breast firmly, he hungrily slurped, sucked, and ate her nipples, moving back and forth to savor both of them. In this position, his dick no longer pushed against her, and she missed the feeling of it. But that became an after-thought as she gave into the wonderful sensation of his hands and mouth on her breasts.

That sensation ended after a few minutes as Dustin went back to kissing her mouth, his fervent lust coming out in another hard kiss, and this time, his head tilted from side to side instead of remaining still as in their first kiss. And now, his hands found her ass cheeks, clutching and squeezing them, delighting in their feeling.

She let out a little surprised shriek when those hands, those strong arms, picked her right up. There was no warning, nothing in his manner that projected his want to do this. He simply did it. Hefted her up, just like that, and she reflexively held onto his shoulders. Then it registered to her that she was moving backwards, that he was walking with her.

“Where you gonna put me?” she asked, her lips moving against his lips as she spoke.

“Anywhere I want.”

She kissed him harder, loving this boldness. The trip didn’t last long at all, as she felt a hardness on her butt, and she realized that it was the kitchen table. With her sitting on the table, his lips backed away, along with his cock. No pressure came from either one, and she immediately missed them. But other sensations soon came. His hands on her knees, tilting her thighs apart. His dickhead against the soft folds of her pussy, finding the spot between them, and pushing forward.

The sweet sensation, relief to the yearning that both of them felt once the game had begun. She propped herself up by leaning back on her elbows, her eyes closer to him this way. Looking right into his eyes as he pumped into her. His eyes that had twinkled with amusement and lust in their back-and-forth stripping, those eyes were now naked with the pleasure she was giving to him. Or he was taking. It didn’t matter. What did matter was the pleasure, the love, the eyes, his hairy firm chest, her breasts trembling with each of his shoves forward.

Then he was out of her, with no warning at all, nothing on his face that had forecast this second sudden change.

The scrape of the chair on the linoleum floor as he slid it closer to her. He sat down. His hands on her thighs. Pushing her thighs further away from each other. His head now where his dick had been. His tongue immediately on her excited bud, no slow teasing dance like he’d done before with eating her out. Instead, this was a devouring her. A kissing, licking devouring to get right at her core.

Bliss shot through her, and one of her arms left the table so that she could grip his hair and hold on tight. But the orgasm was too much for just one of her arms to keep her propped up. Her torso sank down and settled flat on the kitchen table, a hard wooden relief. Still, though, she held on tight to his hair, pulling his face closer to her, loving the wet heat of him against her wet heat. His mouth stayed there as the ecstasy and her trembling muscles dissipated.

And then he backed up, yet another sudden change, and his head easily broke her grip on his hair, a lock that had loosened as her climax lessened. The chair scraped again, pushed out of the way. He stood. He seemed much taller now, since she was now fully flat on the table and no longer propping herself up. His cock found her center again and pushed inside and she gasped.

The heat was hotter now, the movement slicker. But Dustin did not fuck her without abandon. He slid in her with a measured, steady beat, like the ticking of a car’s engine after the car finally came to a stop after a long trip. For Dustin clearly desired a long trip here, not a visit that was going to be over all too quickly. Tammy looked up at him while she gasped with each of his firm, measured thrusts into her. He looked down at her, a grin playing across his face.

“Too hot for you?” he asked.

“Uh-uh. Just … hot … enough.”

His smile widened, and his thrusts grew in strength, surging hard into her, and she gasped louder in response. But, still, his hips did not pick up in speed.

Soon, his hips stopped and backed up. Again, the chair scraped. Again, his face pressed against her heat where his cock had just surged into. Again, his gorgeous tongue was upon her, devouring her.

The gorgeous feeling wrapped around her like how the humid summer air outside wrapped around their small house. A firm handhold on their house, with not a breeze in sight all day long. Summer in Georgia, a presence that walked with you once you left the house and tried to hustle to the car for more air-conditioned relief, and still you wished you lived closer to the ocean for the promise of breezes against the humid air. And with a broken AC unit, that humid air crept into the house which used to give you comfort.

This orgasm was stronger than her first one, and she didn’t even mind the extra heat that it brought with it. Coolness would come later, a cold shower and cold soda would make sure of that. But now, she was going to bathe in the heat, let it soak into her and weigh her down, pin her to this kitchen table. Because she needed to be right here and not move a muscle, for Dustin rose again and pushed his cock into her again, this cock that was making her feel so amazing.

His thrusts were still measured. A deep, resounding thumping. Like some heavy machine pounding the earth far off, with each thud into the ground echoing for miles. The echoes rippling for such a long time, they were still there when the new thud sounded, and new echoes emanated. She gave into the strong hand of the heavy heat. Gave into the thuds of his heavy thrusts. Gave into the pleasure of it all.

Yet again, the thudding stopped, the chair scraped closer, and his mouth feasted on her. This orgasm felt muffled, perhaps because her pleasure was already held high, and so the journey up to the peak was not as far as it was before. Still, she welcomed the wave of even more glowing heat and relished in it.

Afterwards, she spoke in a hoarse, broken voice: “No more. Just fuck me. Fuck me.”

“Yeah,” was all he said.

The other sounds were similarly muffled. The chair scraping away. The deep, pulsing thuds. His grunts with each of them. The gasps from her own mouth. The thrusts into her were no longer measured. They gained in momentum, in friction. A car building up speed on the highway, its engine roaring in the beauty of performing as hard as it was possible. Of fulfilling its purpose. So, too, did his cock fulfill its purpose, shoving into her fast and hard and wonderfully. And, finally, it burst in the joy that she had made it feel.

Panting, long breaths later, Dustin finally pulled out. Not for a pause for eating her out again, but for the ending of this dance. She looked up at him, her eyes glazed. Eventually, she blinked away that glaze and could think a little clearer.

“Now I feel much hotter than before,” she said. “Thanks a lot.”

He laughed, shaking his head, wiping his hand and forearm across his sweaty forehead. “You complaining?”

“Not one fucking bit.”

“Better fucking not.”

He went to the fridge, retrieved a soda, opened it, and gulped down half of it. When he extended the can to her, she sat up and accepted it thankfully. The cold, sweet liquid felt beautiful in her mouth. After she put down the empty can, they looked at each other and laughed. A laughter letting out as relief, laughter that made him lean over and put his hand on the edge of the kitchen counter for balance.

“Man,” he said, “that was so fucking hot.”

“Yeah,” she replied. “That move with the back-and-forth stuff you did?”

“Yeah?”

“Let’s see more of that again.”

“I figured you’d like that.” He chuckled, then smiled a big, proud smile.

They hit the shower, a nice cooling one. They decided that their usual summer bed clothes were too much, and they simply went naked. Typically, Dustin wore boxers to bed in the summer, and Tammy slept in an old, comfy t-shirt. But not this time. Naked, they sat down at the kitchen table, right where her body had been. They ate noodles with mozzarella cheese on the side, washed down with cold iced tea.

They talked about how good that sex had felt. They talked about other times they’d sex, the different places they’d done the beautiful deed. They made plans for the next night to drive somewhere out of the way and fuck in the car, with the windows down to feel the cooler evening air. After dinner, they ate chocolate ice cream and loved how cold it was.

Tammy smiled with the cold spoon in her mouth, and took it slowly out. “You know, you really got away easy with your turn to cook dinner.”

“Oh? You didn’t like the dinner?”

“No, I loved it. But you got away with not really cooking that much.”

“It happens sometimes,” he replied. “I remember you making sandwiches some nights when it was your turn.”

She had to admit that he had her there. “Okay, okay. Just be warned that, on some night, I just might pull a trick like you did tonight.”

“Go ahead. I’m good with noodles and cheese. I don’t need a big meal with a bunch of courses.”

“But you ate a lot of courses tonight, though.”

He grinned. “And I loved every one of them.”

He leaned forward and kissed her, a much lighter kiss than their hot and hard kisses of before. A kiss that tasted cool and chocolatey and was full of love.

End

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Author: augustmacgregor

I'm a writer of erotica and romantic fiction.

15 thoughts on “Too Hot in the Kitchen (Part 3)

  1. DOH! I missed part two, so I have to catch up tonight after work.

    Like

  2. God, that was HOT HOT! Also sounds a little/- lot like us (aside from the fucking in public)… Damn it, I’ve now got an idea.

    Like

  3. *sigh* what a fun arousing story

    Like

  4. Perfectly written, Gus. Yep, yep, yep. Nailed it…or her. 🙂

    Like

  5. Pingback: Mountaintop | August MacGregor

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