Kitchen Sex

The following post is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real people, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

I am standing in the restaurant kitchen with her. We are alone. There is one other person at the resort, a security guard and he is half-deaf. The lights are off. The doors are locked. Bits of sunlight stream in the dining room window and illuminate the stainless steel work tables. We are standing on the line and she drops to her knees on the terra cotta tile floor, unzips my jeans, fishes out my cock and holds it in her graceful feminine hands. Greedily she opens her mouth and takes me in. Instantly I feel her soft moist tongue swirling around my pulsing cock. Her hands are around my thighs. Her knees dig into the tile beneath us. I lean back against a stainless steel work table with my hands on her head. My fingers grasp locks of her long brown hair. She goes at it with relish. Her tongue flicks and swirls all over the ever-swelling shaft of meat. I hold her head forcefully, gripping her by her hair and rock her head back and forth on my cock. She gurgles and gags as my cock fills her mouth and throat to capacity.

Impulsively and without warning I pull her head back away from me. A string of saliva stretches from her mouth to the head of my cock. It glitters in the afternoon light that is cast in muted rays across the gleaming kitchen surfaces. I pull her to her feet by her hair and kiss her deeply. Spin her around and roughly push her upper body onto the steel counter. I unsnap and unzip her jeans shorts. I pull them down to her ankles. I do the same with her cotton panties. Her breath is heavy. She has already begun to sweat. With one hand on the small of her back I have her arch for me. Her thighs catch the light and her back arches. Her pussy rises past her thighs and exposes itself to me. I don't lubricate her or give any warning. I pause for just one moment with the head of my cock barely touching her moistened lips. And I plunge headlong into her. I feel her hot womanly essence contract and expand around my cock. She gulps for air and her hands search the smooth stainless steel table for purchase. Again I grasp her hair, pull back her head, bite her neck..all the while pushing in and out of her with force. Her body shakes and her breath is quick. As I fuck her I notice some of my tools sitting on the workspace. I pick up a rubber spatula in one hand. I take in the vision of her porcelain smooth ass cheeks, tanned by the sun and gorgeous, round and inviting. I bring the spatula up in the air and cut down on her flesh. The rubber tip resounds with a pounding SMACK on her ass cheek. She cries out loudly and tries to toss back her hair but cannot as it is being held firmly in the grasp of my other hand. I whip her again and then again. Her cries grow louder and louder. I set down the spatula for a moment and gather a white cotton chef's towel in my hand, twirl it into a gag, loop it over her head, into her clenched teeth, tie it into a knot at the back of her neck.

I pull her shirt up and take in the sight of her beautiful and flawless back, tanned skin stretched over toned muscle. Without warning I whip her back muscles cruelly. Her pussy clenches hard around my cock as I rock it in and out of her. Her cries are muffled by the improvised gag and I delight in them. I whip her again and again. Her body is now covered in a thin sheen of sweat. She is nothing but a pool of sex now. Her gorgeous body is splayed out before me, pressed against the steel table, her panties around her ankles and her little white ankle socks and sneakers.

I give her a few moments rest from the beating while I find another improvised torture device. I select a pair of chef's tongs from the pile of tools on the table beside her. I push her crumpled torso to the side and release one of her beautiful breasts from her bra. I take the nipple in my fingers first, then in the teeth of the tongs. I pinch down on the tongs and squeeze her nipple hard leaning back so that it is pulled away from her body. She squeals from behind her gag as I make rhythm with her pain with the pounding of my cock in her pussy. I give her other breast the same treatment before returning to the spatula.

Again she is chest down over the table. This time her bare breasts lay on the cold stainless steel table. My left hand holds the back strap of her bra while my right hand wields the spatula. I ride her like an equestrienne rides his horse. I whip her ass, her thighs, her calves, her back and arms without mercy. She writhes in pain. She bucks in pleasure. She is dripping wet, sopping with juices all over my cock. I find a beautiful rhythm there with the spatula falling in heavy blows against her and my cock digging ever deeper into her gorgeous and pulsing pussy. I feel it rising up in me and with one last smack on her back and one last muffled scream into her gag I empty myself into her. I shake and call out her name.

Another few punctuated moments and the chaos and brutality of the scene are done. I drop the spatula. I release her bra strap from my grip. Still inside her I bend down over her sweat-drenched back, reddened with the heat of my blows. I undo her gag. I kiss her softly on her back, her neck, her arms, her cheeks. I gently brush back her hair from her face. She cannot speak. Her legs tremble. Her body shakes. I place soft, sweet kisses on her face, on her eyelids and lashes, on her lips. I coo and fawn over her. I touch her gently now, sweetly brushing my fingers softly across her bruised and punished skin. We stay this way for a good while as the beating of our hearts slow. I have no idea how long we've been here. Time has disappeared. We are the only two people on earth at this moment. Finally my cock softens and slips out her, my juice runs out and down her thighs. I help her up off of the table and into my arms. She is putty. She is pudding. She collapses into me. I feel my muscles holding her. I feel my beard brushing against her soft feminine face. Lazily her eyes lift and meet mine. We are both without words. We don't need any. Standing in the darkened kitchen I hold her, my jeans around my ankles and resting on my boots, her shorts and panties at her feet.

We sigh and linger in this holy embrace.