Kinky Penny: Claiming Every Room

We were sitting at the breakfast table on Thursday morning. Ben was scrolling his iphone as he nibbled some fruit. 

“So, I was thinking about this weekend,” I started. That got his attention.

“Yes ma’am,” he looked up from his phone expectant. This weekend was Super Bowl Sex weekend for us.

“Got anything you want to explore?”

He looked at me, a hard stare, lust-filled eyes. “Yes.”

“Care to share?”

“I want you, Penny. In every room in this house. I want to claim it. Make it smell like sex. Our sex.”

My heart began a pitter-patter in my chest and I felt the flush rise in my cheeks. My status quo and comfortable husband had been transformed into a suburban Casanova.

“Tell me more,” I replied breathlessly, one hand wandering up to cover my ample cleavage.

“I want you in the laundry room. Sitting up on the washing machine. Turning it on so the vibrations turn you on.”

“OK…”

“I want you in the living room. Bent over the couch. Pounding into you repeatedly.”

“I’m warm…”

“I want you on the kitchen table. Spread out. With slices of kiwi and strawberries and whipped cream dotting your body that I slowly enjoy before eating you to orgasm.”

“Oh God…”

“I want your high heels in my hands as I work my cock slowly in and out of you in the guest room bed.”

“Lover…”

“I think it’s time we get this weekend started, Penny.” He stood, took my hand, and led me over to the kitchen sink.

I grasped the edge of the sink and leaned back into Ben, allowing his hands free access to my breasts. He took little time unbuttoning my blouse and roughly pulling the cups up and away so that he could massage my nipples.

“God, that feels amazing,” I let him know as my hand snaked around to the back of Ben’s head to pull him closer.

“You feel amazing, Penny,” he replied.

One hand fell away from my breast and I could feel him working my skirt up around my waist. He gasped when he realized I had no underwear on.

“Naughty girl,” he whispered into my ear. “No underwear work day?”

My breath was coming in hitches as he tweaked my nipples, making them hard. His other hand found my clit and he worked my nubs with precision.

“Haven’t worn panties in a while, lover,” I whispered back. “Makes it easier to sneak away to the restroom and rub one out thinking about you with your face between my knees.”

“Oh God,” Ben whispered into my hair as he circled my clit with firm yet feathery strokes and manipulated my tits, working from one to the other.

“I’m going to fuck you now, lover,” he let me know. I heard his zipper. Didn’t even bother to drop trou. I felt him enter me. Urgent. Thick. Powerful.

“God, that feels good,” I let him know. One hand on my hip now for leverage, the other still mauling my breasts. I used the sink edge to push back at him.

“Yes! Push back into me! Fuck me, lover!”

“Baby! Pound that ass! Cum for me, baby! We’ve got to hit the road in less than five minutes!”

“Won’t be a problem, baby. You’ve got my balls boiling!”

A series of grunts, thrusts, Ben’s hands finally off my tits to grab a handful of my hair and pull me to him. His tongue found mine and we mouth wrestled as he shot deep into my cunt.

“You can check kitchen off the list,” I mouthed into his lips.

“Oh no. This was just to take the edge off. I’m still looking forward to having you on the table for dessert.”

“Promise?”

“Definitely.”

“Looking forward to it, lover,” I smiled.

“Me too, baby, me too.”

Skirt fell back into place. Bra rearranged. Blouse buttoned. I felt a little sticky in a couple of places on my ass, but other than that good to go. I knew I smelled raw, used, and I didn’t give a shit. I looked forward to the aroma in my nostrils the whole hour-long ride into work.

Ben kissed me once more, grabbed his gear out of the mud room, and headed out. I lingered, went to the half bath downstairs and repaired my hair. I did smell like sex. Just fucked. Loved it.

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