Kitchen Secrets, Leather Bound

The heat of the afternoon clung to the kitchen as I finished wiping down the counters, the scent of lemon cleaner battling with the lingering aroma of garlic and oregano from earlier in the day. Robbie had called in sick, a rare occurrence, and the house felt strangely quiet, a comfortable silence broken only by the distant hum of traffic. I’d just stepped out of the shower, the plush cotton of my pale pink bathrobe clinging to my skin, just enough to cover the lower half of my legs. It was a small concession to modesty, a silent invitation for anyone who might stumble upon me in this state.

A subtle shift behind me, a barely perceptible movement, made me instinctively tense. Then, the familiar weight of his presence, the solid pressure of his body against my back. My robe was yanked away with surprising force, revealing a hard, insistent cock nestled between my ass cheeks. He gripped me firmly, his hands clamping down on my breasts, pulling me closer. My nipples, already tingling from the heat of the shower, instantly erect, drawing attention to their sensitive curves. Robbie’s fingers dug in, a deliberate, insistent pin-pricking that sent shivers crawling across my skin. The inner thighs quickly began to tingle, a warm, wet sensation that promised things to come.

“I’m starving,” I murmured, my voice a little breathless. “I made some coffee and biscuits, just like you like them.” It was a calculated move, a way to draw him closer, to heighten the anticipation. As we settled down at the kitchen table, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the sweetness of the biscuits, a small, intimate ritual that felt both familiar and deeply satisfying. The coffee warmed my hands, the biscuits crumbled delicately in my mouth, but my thoughts were already drifting elsewhere, anticipating the pleasure that awaited.

Returning to the kitchen, I felt the same pull, the same insistent pressure behind me. This time, he lifted my gown, pulling me up by the waist, positioning himself perfectly for penetration. Before he could even begin, a glint of latex caught my eye. He had donned one of those “Rough Rider” condoms, the kind with textured ridges designed to enhance stimulation. It was a playful touch, a blatant invitation to explore every inch of my pleasure. The insertion was swift and decisive, a powerful thrust that sent a jolt of electricity through my body. The textured condom intensified the sensation, igniting my nerves with an almost unbearable heat.

Robbie didn’t hold back. He attacked with a relentless passion, his movements forceful, his grip firm. The rhythm was primal, instinctual, and I responded with a series of escalating orgasms, each one more intense than the last. He gradually lowered me, still clinging to me with his cock deep within, then pinning me against the cool surface of the marble countertop. The pressure was exquisite, a delicious torture that fueled my desire even further. He repeated the act, pushing me to the brink of ecstasy, before finally releasing his hold and leading me to the living room.

As we shed our clothes, the air hung thick with unspoken tension. He made sure my head rested comfortably on the plush cushions of the couch, then proceeded to twist and tangle my legs, exposing my backside to his eager gaze. The sensation was both vulnerable and exhilarating, a stripping away of inhibitions that left me feeling raw and exposed. The moment he returned to the intimate act, the textured condom delivered another wave of intense pleasure, pushing me further into the depths of my own desire.

The rhythm continued, a relentless cycle of mounting anticipation and explosive release. I felt myself growing weaker, more susceptible to his control, as the pleasure intensified. Finally, he pulled out, leaving me breathless and trembling. We lay together for a while, simply enjoying the lingering warmth of our bodies, the shared silence filled with unspoken satisfaction. Then, to my surprise, he retrieved another condom, a different type this time, one with a more seamless design. He lubricated it generously, a slippery sheen that seemed to amplify the anticipation.

He placed me on my knees, deliberately exposing my vulnerable back, allowing him to fully explore the pleasure of anal play. As he gripped me and brought his cock into the cleft between my ass cheeks, I offered no resistance, surrendering myself completely to the sensations. The smooth, cool surface of the latex tickled my nerve endings, sending waves of pleasure throughout my body. I shuddered, moaned, and screamed with delight, lost in the depths of the moment.

Robbie pushed deeper, his movements confident and skilled. The feeling was intense, primal, a release of tension that left me gasping for breath. The rhythmic thrusts were relentless, building to a crescendo of pleasure that threatened to overwhelm me. I cried out, begging him to continue, losing all control as my body responded to his every touch. The sensation was exquisite, both painful and pleasurable, a perfect blend of sensations that left me feeling utterly consumed.

Just as I thought I could take no more, I heard the familiar sound—a low rumble in his throat, a sign that he was about to ejaculate. He pulled out, discarding the condom, and brought his cock towards my mouth. He held it there, shaking it gently, a playful invitation to explore further. I opened my mouth, eager to submit to his every whim. Then, with a surge of power, he released his seed, first a small trickle into my mouth, then a torrent of warm, viscous fluid that flowed down my throat, coating my tongue and the back of my mouth. I instinctively drew it in, savoring the taste of his pleasure, swallowing it down with a desperate urgency. The sperm spread across my face, dripping down my cheeks, lips, and the back of my mouth. I sucked and swallowed, desperate to consume every last drop, feeling the pleasure spread through my body with each swallow. My body was a mess, covered in his seed, but it didn't matter. The shared experience, the raw intimacy, was more important than any superficial concerns. We rubbed the wetness all over our bodies, reveling in the lingering scent of sex, a primal scent that clung to our skin like a second layer of clothing.

Later, we slipped into fresh clothes and headed out for dinner, smelling like the intoxicating aroma of our shared encounter. The sweet scent of sex hung heavy in the air, a constant reminder of the night we’d just shared. As we sat down at our table, I couldn’t help but smile, a satisfied expression that betrayed the depths of my pleasure. What a night! It was a perfect storm of lust, desire, and unbridled passion, leaving me exhausted but exhilarated, and longing for another encounter as soon as possible.

Did you like this story? Kitchen Secrets, Leather Bound look, but like these, here Story taboo sex.