One of the things I enjoy about the house is that we have a large, eat-in kitchen with plenty of space for cooking and, as is all too rare in most houses, multiple cooks. It was one of the things that drew us to the house in the first place. There were many things we liked about it but, when we were looking for the place to call our own, it was upon entering the kitchen we both knew it was to be ours.
Since day one of our relationship, you and I have always loved to cook together. "Foreplay," you have called it for years - too many years to count these days, a comfort to us both - and it continues to be the case. You and I move around the kitchen, performing various tasks in getting the meals ready, but I instinctively find some way to touch you every time I pass by you or stand next to you. A stroke of your back here, a rub of your shoulder there, a peck on the cheek or a nibble of your earlobe. I can't help myself and I am lucky enough to have a partner who wants every second of it. I love you.
Our friends came over for dinner. They stayed in the kitchen as we cooked. The house feels warm and inviting, especially when we have friends over for a meal. Better yet, these were long-time friends and there were no awkward moments or real surprises. We were all quite comfortable together and they were used to hanging out in the kitchen as we prepped the meal and spent the time caressing and attending to one another. We had been doing it for so long, we didn't think anything of it when other people were around us.
You were in a mood tonight - a fantastic, sexy, horny, loving and playful mood. It doesn't take much to get me going but you know all the right buttons to press, physically and verbally. I couldn't wait for our friends to leave, much as I was enjoying myself, but I needed to have you. I am not sure I could have made it into the bedroom had you offered sex at the moment; a day dream quickly passed through my mind of us clearing the dining room table as soon as were alone and going at it right then and there on top of the table.
"What about you?" I came back to reality, as one of the others was asking me a question. The topic had changed without my realizing and I was lost. Apparently, we were talking about sex - never a bad thing but a far cry from the discussion of politics we had been having before I zoned out. "What's something out of the ordinary you two have done, sexually, we wouldn't guess?"
I wasn't sure how to answer. While I was sifting through our memories - and what an amazing catalog of memories it was with you - I offered a joke. "I got to second base last night." After the collective groan and a napkin being thrown my way from across the table, I figured I had to come up with something. How to pick?
Do I talk about the time you gave me a blowjob in a rest stop parking lot when we were on a trip? Do I tell them about the time I played with your g-spot in the woods on one of the trails near the house, wondering if we were going to be discovered at any moment? How about the time we sat in front of a mirror, with me on a chair and you riding me, also facing the mirror, watching the hot and horny couple staring back at us? Maybe one of the times you read erotica while I went down on you? Trading sexual favors as bets during a football game in your living room? All the times we told each other fantasies during sex - mind-blowing sex - to heighten the orgasms? I was stumped and the list went on in my head. You are the not only a fantastic lover but I couldn't begin to dream up a better one if I tried... not that I wanted to try, either.
"I'm tongue-tied and have no idea how to answer." Not helping matters, of course, was that you had taken that opportunity to start stroking me under the table. You like to drag your nails along the outline of my cock, over my pants. It drives me wild. Well, it drives us both wild as you get pretty wet from it, but after several minutes of it, I am ready to rip your clothes off every time. (One of the times you did that on a long car ride through a couple states comes to mind as I type this. I really am a lucky guy.)
"Too many from which to decide. Tell me yours first," I say.
"About a year ago," she began, "we had friends over. One thing led to another and, before I knew it, I was tied up and being enjoyed by our friends and my own loving partner. Six hands caressing and exploring every inch of me was incredible. Hands were replaced by tongues, cocks and a wet pussy. I didn't know which end was up and I was one raw nerve. I'm wet just thinking about it."
