you are hard at work, in the kitchen, doing something on the chopping board. i don’t care what it is, i’m feeling horny and come up behind you and hold you, my hands cupping your breasts, my stiffie pressing into your back. “not now!” you tell me sharply, “i’m busy!” i don’t give a fuck, and i push my right hand down between your legs.
“c’mon love,” i implore, “just a quickie?” you spin round and glare at me. i ignore you and pull at your skirt, wanting to feel between your legs. you brush my hand away roughly and tell me to
“fucking grow up!” i slip my hand up inside your tee, grabbing a breast and ask, in my sweetest voice, for “a quick hand-job?” this seems to excite you and you smile and i feel your nipples stiffen and i grin back at you. if i had paid more attention, i would have seen that what you were chopping was half a dozen or so hot red chilli peppers, the burning juices of which now coat your fingers.
“you want me to wank you off?” you ask cheekily, and i nod like a demented puppy and grin. “what, right this minute?” you check. a question that is met by more enthusiastic nodding. you look down and i obediently drop my pants. i love the way you smile as you grab hold of my twitching prick and start to stroke generously up and down its whole length. you trace delicate little circles around and all over the head with the tips of the fingers of your other hand, which feels fantastic, and even more tingly than usual. you fondle my balls and even push the tip of your pinkie into my butt, you know how i like that. the mischievous look in your eyes makes it so much better.
then the heat hits me and i gasp in pain and you giggle. you answer the desperate questioning in my eyes by glancing over your shoulder at the pile of red chilli peppers on the chopping board. my eyes follow yours, widening in realisation as they do. i try to pull away but you keep hold of me for a second or two and kiss me. then you let go and i hop from one foot to the other, letting out little agonised whimpers, unsure what to do, pain scorching me from the tip of my dick to my ass. you laugh so hard that you can barely cross the kitchen to the freezer and find me a bag of frozen peas.
you are still laughing as you wash your hands and go back to preparing the meal.