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Kitchen Secrets

Posted by: Age: 38 Posted on: 2 comments
4 likes 1611 views Category: Masturbation Female Solo Tags: Female solo masturbation using kitchen utensils
Kitchen utensils make for great solo masturbation

Kitchen Secrets She beat him there. Always did. Anytime he said 6:30 he meant 7:15. But that meant she had time to make coffee and add her little perk to hers before I he got there. As the darkness dissipated, the soft glow of cold winter sun began to fill the kitchen. Flipping on the CD that always settled her and awakened her, she pulled her stool up to the counter and waited for the lift to kick in. The warmth of the heating oven drifted her way as she tied on her apron. The apron that could hide all sins. Lifting it above the open oven door the heat flowed over her body lighting her breasts on fire and warning of desires. 6:45. She has time. She pulls the huge mixer bowl over, flips it upside down, unbuttons her jeans and sits spread eagle on top of it, only her apron to cover her. Heat presses in from all sides climbing up her neck, blowing her hair in the updraft. Her pussy is so warm it's gone wet before she ever touches it. She leans back letting it take her, reaching for the industrial whisk above her. It's cool against her skin as she slides it in, probing deeper than it can really reach. She watches her apron move up and down as she strokes herself with it, the metal warming between her fingers and between her legs. Catching sight of the spoon she used in her coffee she presses the bowl of it against her clit as the whisk continues its rythmic plunging. Something in her rises, pulls tightly in and then drifts off as she slows. 6:55. It can wait. She uses the spoon to cup each nipple, feeling them harden under her apron. She slides her shirt down and lets them rub against the harsh old fabric. Then she unties the apron strings and slips one tie through her panties and running up through her labia, and pulling back and forth she knows it's coming soon whether she fights it or not. Still using the apron tie she returns to the whisk, kneels down beside the bowl and rubs her now bare breasts against it, rocking back and forth. Heat flowing over her back, cool metal against her front, she is melting in ecxtacy. In a sudden heave her insides squeeze around the whisk sending a rush of wet fire onto the bowl. She melts, collapsing over the bowl, resting a moment in warm satisfaction. 7:10. Shit. She pulls her clothes into place, straightens her apron, and starts the dishwasher. Returning the clean bowl to its stand she hears the car pull up into its place. Before he reaches the door she has today's recipes laid out on the counter. "Hey girl, let's get some coffee and a smoke before we start."

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