Her hand moves from the counter to between her thighs. I can feel her fingers against her clit as I thrust into her. She begins to work herself over as I steadily pump into her.
“That’s it, my little Betty Crocker whore. Choke my cock with your cunt and make me frost that pussy.”
“Wait! What?” Elle stills, turning her face to me.
“I was trying to come up with dirty baking terms. I failed, I see that now,” I tell her, and I see her lips curling in a smile.
“Just fuck me, Ali. I don’t need anything other than your dick pounding me,” Elle says.
Right! I’ll give the woman what she wants as I start to thrust into her again. My hand tightens on her ponytail as her fingers move swiftly over her clit, and we get back into that steady rhythm.
“We have three minutes left, Elle. You need to come,” I tell her.
“I would have come if you hadn’t asked me to frost my pussy.” She giggles as her pussy clenches. She’s getting close. I’m never going to live that down, I don’t think.
“Two minutes,” I yell out, the time constraint now getting to me.
Can I make it happen in time?
“Fuck, yes,” Elle curses as she makes herself come all over my dick, and as soon as her pussy clenches down on me, I’m done for.
We finish in synchronization with the timer of the oven.
“Guess we’re cooked.” Elle turns, chuckling.
“Hold steady, let me clean you up,” I tell her as I grab some paper towels and clean up the mess we’ve made between us, then I help her get dressed again.
“Go … have a quick shower. You must be exhausted after the flight and work. Dinner will be on the table when you get down,” Elle tells me.
“You sure?”
Elle nods and pushes me out of the kitchen as she prepares dinner. I quickly run upstairs and undress. I have the world’s quickest shower, grab a T-shirt and track pants, and head back downstairs just as Elle finishes placing the plates on the table.
“Want me to grab some wine?” I ask.
“Sure! It’s chicken, so maybe white,” she calls out.
I pull out a sauvignon blanc and head back to the table where it’s all set out and looks incredible.
“For dinner, we have chicken confit with vegetables and mash. Dessert is apple tart tarin,” Elle explains to me.
I don’t care what it is, it smells delicious, looks amazing, and to top it off, I didn’t have to cook.