A Recipe For Pleasure – A Story of Women’s Erotica

Food isn’t the only delicious thing one’s can do in
the kitchen

Food isn’t the only delicious thing one’s can do in
the kitchen

In this short tale of women’s erotica, things take an interesting turn in Jane and Mark’s new kitchen. Who said food was the only delicious item on the menu?

One of my favorite things about our new house was the kitchen. There were endless spacious cabinets, a deep stainless farmhouse sink, all new appliances, and plenty of counter space – but the best part was the island. 

Dead center in the room was an enormous, marble top kitchen island with a wine rack on one end, outlets on every corner, and a second small sink built right into it. It was spectacular! 

Whenever we had company over, they would always comment on how beautiful it was, and how it was so perfect for entertaining – and they were right. It was definitely the focal point of the house, and we would always find ourselves gathered around it.

Tonight, we had a couple over that we recently met. It was a blast. I made a ton of fun appetizers, we had drinks, and played so many games our stomachs hurt from laughing. 

Soon after they left, I started to clean up and of course, my husband had to bring it up:

“Boy, they sure loved this island, didn’t they?” he stated, helping me clear away dishes.

“Uh, yeah – everyone does!” I replied, with a chuckle.

“Well, it is pretty perfect for this house.” he said. 

“No argument here!” I said.

After a few moments we had almost cleared everything off of it. All that remained was our pitcher of Sangria, a few stray napkins, and my stainless steel utensil holder with some large serving spoons.

“Want another drink, Hon?” I asked Mark, reaching for the pitcher. 

“I’d actually like something else.” he replied, sneaking up behind me. 

He wrapped his warm hands around my waist from behind and pushed his crotch against my rear. 

“You know, there’s one thing we haven’t used this island for…” he whispered into my ear. 

I immediately felt weak in the knees. 

“Hell, YES I want to have sex in the kitchen.” I thought to myself. 

Without a word, I pushed back against him with my butt and gave it a slight twirl, signaling that I was totally on board. I leaned over slightly positioning myself so that I was flush against the marble. It was cold to the touch. 

Mark grabbed onto my hips and I flipped the my back of my dress up, revealing my thong and the goose bumps that had just developed on my cheeks.   

I could hear him sticking his fingers inside his mouth to wet them before slowly easing them inside me – filling me. I gasped at the feelings of his hand. He was feverishly unzipping his jeans with his other.

Soon after I could feel the heat pour out of his pants and he was exposed. I could feel him bobbing against the backside of me, anxiously waiting to get in. 

He worked me with his fingers for a few minutes to ensure I was good and wet before he started pleasuring me with the main event. 

I pulled down the front of my dress so that my nipples could graze the cold, smooth counter as he playfully inserted his tip. He poked it in slightly, and then pulled it out. In, and out he teased me with his head. He knew that drove me wild. 

I tried to reach around and guide him in fully, but he withheld himself in order to build my suspense. With my free hand I smacked down on the surface of the island hard, to indicate I was tired of waiting.  The sound seemed to echo throughout the kitchen, and I laughed. 

Mark laughed too for a second, and then plunged deep inside me.

The gush of arousal I felt caused me to wildly swing my right arm back around to the counter for grip, but in doing so I inadvertently knocked into my container of utensils, causing them to fly across the room and onto the floor in a clatter. 

Neither of us laughed this time. We were both focused the how intensely he was pumping behind me. I threw myself back towards him as quickly as he was thrusting himself forward. The friction was warm and wet. My goose bumps were gone, and I could feel a slight sweat building between us. 

He reached around with one of his hands and circled my clit with his fingers like he was playing a video game. He knew just how to make me orgasm and we were well on our way. 

I grabbed my own breasts and massaged them to the beat of our laps smacking together, taking time to pinch each nipple every few rounds. 

“I’m almost there, Babe.” I announced breathlessly and starting to shake.

“I know. Come for me Baby. I want to you get off so bad.” he replied.  

His words sent me over the edge. I threw myself back hard and paused, my vagina clenching down on him, quivering with excitement.

My body pulsed like a ticking clock as I climaxed. Mark held on to me tight until my tremors slowed. He kissed me passionately on the neck, licking the perspiration from my jawline. 

We finally turned to face each other, our cheeks flush from our frenzy. 

“Yeah, this island is pretty sweet.”, I blushed, grabbing a few of the napkins still sitting on the countertop. 

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