I headed downstairs to the kitchen where my girlfriend, Vanessa, was already at the stove. The morning sun poured through the tall windows, lighting up every curve of her body. She was pure MILF perfection: heavy, soft breasts barely contained by a thin white tank top, wide hips and a plump, jiggly ass that shifted enticingly in tiny cotton shorts as she stirred the eggs. The air was warm with the smell of butter, coffee, and the faint, sweet trace of her perfume mixed with her natural scent.
She'd always been completely relaxed around the house. Sometimes those shorts rode up just enough for me to catch a glimpse of smooth, pink lips glistening slightly from the heat, and she never bothered to fix them. Once, half-laughing, I'd asked why she was so casual about letting me see everything. She turned, spatula in hand, gave me that playful smirk, and said in her low, teasing voice,
"Babe, you've been deep inside me more times than I can count. You can look at this pussy whenever you want."
The words sent a fresh rush of heat through me as bacon popped and sizzled behind her, the whole kitchen feeling ten degrees hotter than it had a second ago
I stepped behind Vanessa while she stood at the stove, sliding my arms around her waist. My cock was already out, hard and throbbing from the sight of her. I pressed myself against the soft heat between her thighs, the slick, warm folds of her pussy kissing the underside of my shaft as I rocked slowly, never pushing inside, just gliding back and forth along her wetness.
Her breath hitched; the spatula stilled in her hand. I could feel every little shiver that ran through her plush body, the faint tremor in her thick thighs, the way her ass pressed back against me instinctively. The kitchen smelled of melted butter, sizzling bacon, and the unmistakable sweet-salt scent of her arousal filling the small space between us.
I tilted my hips, dragging the swollen head of my cock up and down her slippery slit, circling the sensitive little bud at the top with deliberate, teasing strokes. Vanessa let out a low, throaty moan that vibrated through her back into my chest. Her free hand gripped the edge of the counter, knuckles whitening, while the other kept lazily stirring the eggs like nothing was happening.
Our eyes locked over her shoulder, hers dark and glassy with lust, lips parted. A few more slow, deliberate glides and we both shattered quietly: her thighs trembling, a warm rush coating me, my own release pulsing hot against her skin.
She exhaled a satisfied little laugh, reached for a dish towel, and wiped us both clean with casual affection. "Go ahead and sit, baby," she murmured, voice husky, giving my hip a playful nudge. "Breakfast will be ready in a minute."
I nodded, still catching my breath, and dropped into the chair at the table, the lingering scent of sex and coffee wrapping around us like a warm blanket.
Vanessa finished plating the food and set a steaming plate of scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, and buttered toast in front of me. The rich, savory aromas curling up between us. She settled into the chair across the small table, the morning light catching the soft bounce of her breasts beneath that thin tank top as she sat.
She didn't bother closing her legs. Under the table her thighs parted lazily, the faint glisten of our earlier release still visible on her smooth, swollen lips. One bare foot slid forward, toes curling gently around my half-hard cock, her sole warm and silky as she began a slow, teasing massage up and down my length. The gentle pressure sent sparks through me with every lazy stroke.
Her other hand disappeared beneath the table. I heard the soft, wet sound of her fingers gliding through her own slick heat, matching the rhythm of her foot on me. She lifted a forkful of eggs to her mouth with her free hand, chewing slowly, eyes locked on mine, cheeks faintly flushed, a tiny smirk playing at her lips each time her breath hitched.
The kitchen was quiet except for the soft clink of cutlery, the wet sounds beneath the table, and our steadily quickening breaths. A minute or two of that delicious torture and we both tipped over the edge again: her thighs trembling, a muffled moan escaping around her bite of toast; my hips jerking as I spilled warmth over her foot.
She hummed contentedly, reached for a napkin, and wiped us both clean with the same casual affection as before. Leaning forward, voice low and velvet, she murmured, "Come home early today, baby. I can't go all day without you inside me again."
I swallowed hard, nodded, and managed a rough, "Same here, V." Then I slung my bag over my shoulder, stole one last kiss that tasted like coffee and her, and headed out the door for class, the echo of her soft laugh following me all the way down the street
I pushed open the front door after a long day at college and called out, "I'm home!"
Vanessa's warm voice drifted from the bedroom. "Perfect timing, baby. Come here."
I stepped inside and found her on the bed, surrounded by neat piles of fresh laundry. She was wearing only an oversized T-shirt, legs casually spread, the soft cotton riding high on her thick thighs. The air smelled faintly of warm cotton, fabric softener, and that unmistakable sweet musk of her arousal.
I dropped my bag and slid onto the bed beside her. Without a word I slipped two fingers straight into her slick, dripping heat. She was soaked, velvet-soft walls fluttering around me as I curled and pumped slowly. She kept folding a towel like nothing was happening, but her breath hitched every time my thumb brushed her swollen clit.
"Hand me those panties on the pillow, love," she murmured, nodding toward a tiny black lace pair still dark and fragrant from earlier. I passed them over. Instead of taking them, she pressed the soaked crotch right against my face.
I groaned into the damp fabric, inhaling her intoxicating scent (salty-sweet, pure sex) while my fingers kept driving deeper inside her faster. My other hand wrapped around my aching cock, stroking in perfect rhythm.
The room filled with wet sounds, her soft moans, the rustle of clothes, the slap of my fist. Minutes blurred until her thighs clamped around my hand, pussy pulsing hard as she came with a shuddering gasp. The taste and smell of her panties pushed me over the edge; I spilled hot across my stomach with a muffled growl against the lace.
She laughed breathlessly, kissed my forehead, and stood. "I'm jumping in the shower. You look like you need a nap."
I collapsed back into the warm spot she'd left on the bed, her scent still clinging to my skin, and let sleep take me before the water even started running
I stirred awake to warm, silken skin sliding over mine. Vanessa was already straddling me, completely naked, her heavy breasts swaying as she rocked her hips in slow, deliberate circles. Her soaked pussy glided along the length of my cock (never taking me inside, just dragging those slick, swollen lips up and down, coating me in a delicious mix of her fresh arousal and the sticky remnants of my earlier release). The room smelled thick with sex and her familiar vanilla-lotion scent, the sheets beneath us damp and warm.
She gazed down at me with half-lidded eyes, love and hunger swirling together. I reached up, threading my fingers into her hair as she leaned in. Our lips met softly at first, then deeper, hungrier, tongues tangling in a slow, wet strokes, sharing breath and saliva while her hips never stopped their gentle, loving grind.
Every slide sent sparks up my spine, her clit catching perfectly against the underside of my cock, the slippery mess between us growing hotter, louder. Soft moans vibrated into my mouth; her thighs trembled against my sides. Minutes stretched into that slow, intimate dance we shattered together, my release pulsing in thick ropes across my stomach, her pussy fluttering as she soaked us even more.
She broke the kiss with a tender smile, brushed her lips across my forehead, and whispered, "Good night, my sweetheart."
Still trembling, she curled into me, arms and legs wrapping around me like I was her favorite teddy bear, breasts pressed to my chest, one thigh draped possessively over mine. With the mingled scent of us filling the air and the steady beat of her heart against mine, we drifted into the deepest, sweetest sleep.