Quickie

Hot, wet, hands gliding over hard planes. He comes up behind me as I finish the last of the dishes from the scrumptious dinner we just shared together.

Its been a long day. Work, errands, life, nuisance. Its easy to curl into bed, drift into sleep.  Just then though he brushes the hair from my neck and softly licks the sensitive skin behind my ear. A hand runs lightly up my skirt searching for the wetness he knows will be between my thighs...

All thoughts of sleep have vanished. A sudden firm hand in my hair and I'm spun around. The soapy dish goes crashing to the ground as I'm roughly lifted up and my legs are wrapped around his waist. His insistent hardness pressing into the softness of me as he sets me on the counter and drives into me.
My hands flail, fervent, seeking leverage. I knock the water on high, soap over, things I can't identify go crashing to the floor. He's driving into me so hard I can barely catch my breath. I'm rasping his name as he's telling me to come on his nice, hard cock. Demanding, insisting.

I splinter, fracture into a million pieces like the ill fated plate. He stares into my eyes and fills me with his throbbing orgasm moments after I shudder to completion. I'm panting, legs shaking, tremors still gently coursing through my body. I slide off the counter onto the floor.

He smooths my hair, kisses my head. Helps me adjust my skirt as my hands seem unable to responde to the impulses being sent from my brain. He laughs as we look around at the chaos created in mere minutes in our orderly kitchen. He pats my ass in appreciation and the self satisfaction of male prowess.

It's moments like these that make the long day of work, the crazy coworkers, the killer traffic, and the stupid dishes not seem to matter.

And all it took was a few minutes.

 Read something for the weekend with other ways to escape