It was a little thing, just a touch as we passed in the kitchen. Liz had showered already and was cleaning up after breakfast, putting the kitchen in order so she could relax and start her day. I had just finished my workout and was getting water from the fridge. I was sweaty and steaming and the endorphins were boiling in me. So when her hand reached out for my waist, tenderly and casually, it felt right and proper. As I pulled the cap off the water bottle her hand slid to my lower back and then recoiled.

"Eew, gross!" she chided with amusement.

I gurgled the water and release a dramatic exhale. "Aah, well, what did you expect?" I took another long pull as she returned to her countertops, wiping them with a towel. Like I said, it was a little thing. But as I pulled the bottle from my lips and turned to look at her, the memory of her hand on my waist created a vestigial impression, almost as if it were still there.

I watched her move, confident and practiced as she completed her routine. Come on , I thought, there's nothing sexy about putting the kitchen in order . Especially in the mechanical way she went through her routine. Still, I couldn't help watching. I'd seen it a thousand times before. She didn't prance or give sly seductive looks over her shoulder. She just wiped stuff down and put things away with an economy of motion until she saw me looking at her and suddenly stopped.

"What?" she asked. I was smiling, and she returned it, then glanced nervously around the kitchen. "What? Did I miss a spot?" she asked with a sheepish humor. Then her eyes returned to mine and they widened knowingly. "Oh, seriously? Really, Josh? I'm cleaning, and you're all sweaty," she laughed, but the twinkle in her eye said she agreed with me.

"Can't help it," I smirked. And I couldn't. I just liked watching her, and watching her made me think of... other things.

She rolled her eyes, but the twinkle stayed in them. "Go take a shower, sweaty man!" she ordered with a laugh. "Let me finish what I'm doing."

I gave her a fake snarl and put the water back in the refrigerator. "Looks like you're almost done, though. You're not planning to clean out the cabinets or anything, are you?" I teased with one eyebrow raised.

"Yes, I was going to move all the plates, clean the cabinets, reorganize the pantry,” she recited, “go grocery shopping and paint the kitchen and living room." She cocked her head and chided, "You think you can hold out that long?" Her words were teasing, as they often were at moments like this, but I knew she was imagining the same thing I was and liked the idea.

"Gosh, I don't know," I teased back, "I doubt it." I turned to leave the kitchen but stopped in the doorway and turned back to her. "I might have to rub one out in the shower, then," I grinned.

"Fucking better not," she replied, lowering her voice, her anticipation more evident on her face now. "You’d better be saving that for me."

"All yours, dear," I called to her from the hallway as I stepped lightly to the bathroom. "If you insist!" I laughed to myself as I closed the door.

I didn't dally in the shower.

When I came out, shaved and clean and wrapped in my towel, I stepped into the bedroom expecting to see her there, waiting for me, but the room was empty. I felt a moment of dismay, a remnant of high school dates that didn't pan out and misread signals from college girls who had let on too late that nothing was going to happen. I listened for sounds in the house, half expecting to hear her attacking the kitchen cabinets and pantry, but it was silent. Damn, I hope she was kidding about the grocery shopping , I grumbled silently. I briefly considered getting dressed, allowing for the possibility that she'd gotten distracted and had just been teasing.

I eyed the closet and considered dressing, then convinced myself that I should go find her, slightly regretting not jerking off in the shower. If she turned me down, I'd just be grumpy and petulant all day. Stepping out into the hallway I called her name and heard a muffled reply from down the hall, in the direction of the dining room. Dusting , I thought, please, please let her be almost done . It wasn't that I couldn't control my urges. I could. Not well, admittedly, but I could. It was just that feeling of her hand on me, the stirrings that that simple touch evoked. I didn't want sex. I wanted her. It had always been this way, since we met, I think. There was just something about seeing her, feeling her next to me. It never failed to arouse my libidinous tendencies.

And so, in my towel, I made my way towards the dining room, half resigned to see her busy dusting and polishing things that, to my eyes, needed no attention.

I needn't have worried.

As I stepped around the hallway corner I was greeted with a sight that froze me. She'd spent the time well while I was in the shower! Gone were the jeans and tee shirt she'd been wearing as she'd cleaned the kitchen. My breath caught in my throat as I took in the view of her rounded white ass cheeks facing me from the edge of the dining room table, bright and seductive above her thigh-high stockings.

"Fuck, Liz," I gasped.

She'd raided the toy bag, my industrious, sexy girl. She was naked but for the stockings, bent over the dining room table. She'd strapped her ankles to the heavy legs and stood on tiptoes to keep her ass in the air. From this angle I could see her breasts pressed flat under her chest against the dark, polished wood, her arms out to the sides, gripping the edges. Her head was turned in my direction, cheek resting on the tabletop, and she'd wrapped a scarf around her head, blindfolding herself. My towel felt suddenly tight and I undid the knot, letting it fall to the floor as I stepped slowly to the table.

"Oh, Christ, Liz." It was all I could manage as I drank in the sight of her, spread and waiting, sexy and gorgeous.

"Take me, baby," she murmured from the table, "take your girl! Fuck me like you own me!"

My cock stood straight out from my pelvis, bouncing in front of me like divining rod.

I stepped behind her, taking a moment to run fingertips lightly up her legs, grazing her skin above the stockings, then up her ass cheeks and her back. She shivered and made soft contented sounds. My cockhead brushed against her shaved slit, leaving a smear of pre-cum to join the glistening jewels of her juices. Her ass shifted as her pelvis angled up at me. Her hands tightened on the edges of the table.

"Please, don't tease me, I want you. Now," she pleaded softly. "Just fuck me, I'm ready, I'm so-o ready... please."

I let out a low growl as I pushed my swollen plum between her lips, wetting the tip in the flowing nectar. I adjusted my stance and my aim and pressed into her. My eyes closed as she opened and I pushed inside, sighing as I felt my cock sliding into her. My hands settled on her ass cheeks and gripped slightly as I worked my cock fully inside her, pulling out a bit and pushing deeper several times until I was fully seated in her warmth, buried to the root. I shifted my weight, feeling my cockhead brushing her cervix as it only does from rear entry. I held my position, pressing myself deep as she moaned in response.

"Fuck, Liz, fuck, that feels so good, you sexy bitch," I snarled, and began slow, long even strokes in and out of her. Her ass wiggled under my hands as she shifted, lowering her position and angling my entry to brush her g spot. When I hit it she moaned and I stayed at that angle, focusing my strokes to bring her the pleasure she wanted, thrills coursing through me as my mind reacted to her wanton offering. "Fuck, I own your cunt, Liz, fuck. You make me so fucking hard!" I snarled.

Involuntarily I increased my pace, my body reacting to its own demands, despite my desire to make this moment last. Driven by her willingness and desire, I thrust harder, more forcefully than usual, fucking her deep. She yelped and squealed, I grunted and groaned. My fingers dug deeper into her ass flesh as my muscles contracted in delight. She was moaning louder now, her sounds prickling my libido, deepening my desire to please her, to have her.

I heard wet slapping sounds as our bodies met. Her flesh rippled with each hard thrust inside. The table rocked under her from the impact of our bodies. Each motion, each sensation and sound, each willing surrendered gasp drove my desire deeper, stronger. Passion owned me like my cock owned her cunt, my cunt, given to me by her, offered for my taking. My jaw clenched as I felt the build begin inside me, the tickle that said the beginning of the end was near.

Liz's moans sharpened, became louder, almost barks as I thrust into her. I was pounding her at furious speed, hammering my cock. The pitch of her cries increased and I felt her walls tighten and clench. I saw stars as she screeched her climax with sharp animal yelps that echoed in the small room, harsher and brighter than she'd ever sounded in the bedroom. The changing pitch of her cries reached through my brain and travelled to my groin, gripping me and stroking my climax over the top in a rush. My balls tightened and pulsed, and then my howls joined hers.

It felt like my entire torso was pushing through my cock. My legs clenched as I thrust deep inside her as my cum rocketed out in a sudden rush, pulsing through my shaft in repeated spasms of pleasure. I held rigid, not hearing or seeing, just pressed deep inside as my body shuddered its release, hissing sharp breath through clenched teeth. As the jolting spurts subsided I collapsed forward over her, heart thumping and squirming slightly as our bodies became liquid and melted into each other, breathing, sighing, coming down from the heights we'd shared together.

When my senses returned I was kissing her shoulders and my arms were outstretched, fingers tangled in hers, no longer gripping the edge of the table. Our sweat mingled between us and our hearts relaxed to resume a steady beat. Below my waist I felt the trickle of our juices dripping, cooling. My hips flexed slowly, sliding my softening cock methodically in and out, mixing us, cementing us together. I felt a smile cross my face and a soft laugh coughed out as I lifted my head. Her shoulders shifted under her skin, languid and sensuous. I raised my torso and pulled my dwindling shaft free of her and then helped her stand.

Ankles still bound, she twisted and threw her arms over my shoulders, pulling me against her sideways, craning her neck to reach my face. I dove into the kiss, our lips and tongue finishing the dance our juicy bits had begun.

"Fuck, Liz," I murmured into the kiss, smiling. "You're incredible." Her lips, pressed to mine, tasting me, formed a smile of their own and I saw her eyes crinkle with delight.

"Me?" she asked incredulously. "Damn, Josh, I was so turned on, and you... Oh, baby," she kissed me again, "you're the best, ever."

We kissed more, sharing the moment as we shared our lives, together, each getting what we needed, each wanting what we had. After a few minutes she laughed openly.

"Could you help me out of this?" she giggled.

Laughing with her, I dropped to my knees. "Allow me, my sweet lady," I pronounced, and undid the straps. My face was close to her pussy, and the scent of our passion wafted from her like a brothel. I grinned at my part in her fragrance, and took a moment to memorize the view of her, cum dripping from her glistening lips to trail in jeweled traces down her thighs. My cum , I thought.

My girl.

We kissed again, my hands at her ribs, holding her close.

Her hand, lightly on my hip. Right where it belonged.