Cooking, Control, & More in Between

Cooking, Control, and Everything in Between

Author's Note: This story is based on a real encounter -- unfiltered, unedited (except the grammar ????), and unforgettable. Dennis, if you ever read this... yeah, it's about *you*.

They say women come alive sexually in their 40s -- but I'd say that's not necessarily true. Despite all the not-so-great things that have happened to me, I've always had a very healthy sexual appetite. The problem? I've never had anyone who could truly match that appetite... until Dennis.

Dennis meets me with ferocity, passion, and intensity -- every damn time. And for a man in his 50s? Let me tell you: he always leaves me wanting more.

We don't have a conventional relationship. In fact, it's not really a relationship at all. But we're never far from each other. No matter who else we might be with, there's this undeniable pull -- always has been.

It had been a couple of weeks since I'd seen him when he invited me up to his place. It's always the same: the door is unlocked, and he's waiting for me on the couch. That day, my pussy had been wet all day with anticipation. I knew what was waiting for me.

Dennis sat there with his jeans unbuttoned, his cock already hard and pulsing -- just for me. I walked in casually, gave him a teasing "Hi," and ignored the obvious invitation his cock was making. Pre-cum was already glistening at the tip. Yummy. I love the way Dennis tastes.

He gave me that "what the fuck?" look -- the one that says he was expecting more than a casual hello. He doesn't like too much teasing up front. That comes later. What he wants right away is to know I want him.

I couldn't help myself, though. He'd made me wait two weeks before asking me up. So, I lingered. But when he gave me that look, I gave in. I landed on top of him and kissed him hello.

Mmm, that kiss... he knows exactly how to kiss me. One of his hands pinned both of mine behind my back while the other cupped the back of my head, pulling me in closer. Let's be honest -- he loves having control, and secretly, I love giving it to him.

He let go of my hands and pulled us into a sitting position. My legs naturally wrapped around his waist. I was wearing a dress, and, as always, I was commando -- so when we moved, his cock slid up against my smooth, wet pussy.

He groaned, "Fuck," and I could feel his frustration and arousal. He always tries to play it cool, but I know the effect I have on him.

I pulled away just a little, smirking, raising an eyebrow -- teasing him to see what he'd do next.

It didn't take long. He wrapped his arms around my waist, stood up, spun us around, and pinned me against the back of the couch. One hand slid up under my dress, brushing the side of my body until it reached my phoenix tattoo -- the one he loves. The other hand found my nipple and pinched it hard.

"Fuck, that's hot," I moaned, my pussy tightening at his touch.

Then he brought his mouth down on mine, hard -- like he was starving for me. I met him beat for beat, tongue to tongue. One of my hands slid down to push his jeans further, to stroke his thick cock, swipe some of his pre-cum, and bring it to my mouth. I love tasting him -- and he loves watching me do it.

He groaned into my mouth as his fingers found my slick pussy.

I pushed him back onto the couch. "We should eat something," I said. I hadn't had supper, and neither had he. But I was half-naked, stroking his cock, and he looked stunned that I wanted to pause.

Still, he pulled his pants up and dragged me into the kitchen, his cock still poking out -- long and thick, reaching his belly button when hard. It's the perfect cock, and it doesn't know how to quit.

I opened the fridge, trying to focus. My pussy was dripping wet and aching to feel him inside me. I barely had time to think before Dennis came up behind me, kissed my neck, wrapped one arm around my waist, and the other down my stomach to rub my clit.

I was thankful I had the fridge door to hold onto. He made me cum in no time.

He brought his fingers to my lips, and we kissed while tasting me. His cock pressed against my ass, still demanding more.

I bent to open the freezer -- and suddenly, he lifted my dress, smacked my ass, grabbed my hips, and slid his cock inside me.

I was still trembling from the last orgasm as he thrusted deep. I moaned his name in a breathless curse.

"Tell me what's in the freezer," he said, fucking me hard.

"Shrimp," I gasped, laughing through the pleasure.

But then -- he pulled out. Grabbed the shrimp. And zipped up his pants.

"Excuse me?" I asked.

"We need to eat," he said, grinning.

"But... why is your cock back in your pants?"

"I can't cook naked."

I raised an eyebrow. "You can. And you will."

He smirked. "Only if you suck my cock."

"Okay," I said instantly.

He laughed, not expecting me to agree. But I meant it.

As he turned on the stove, I dropped to my knees, sliding his pants back down, licking the tip slowly. He gasped. "That's it?"

I just smiled. "Start cooking."

He shook his head, grabbed the pepper mill -- and I took him deep into my mouth. He groaned, "Too close to the stove."

"You told me to suck your cock while you cooked," I grinned. "I'm just following directions."

He warned me he didn't want to burn himself. "Not while it's in my mouth," I teased.

But he pulled me up, placed me on the counter, and teased my pussy with the head of his cock -- just the tip, slipping in and out while pinching my nipples. I wrapped my legs around him, trying to take him fully, but he just smirked and kept teasing me.

Then -- he picked me up, carried me across the kitchen, and slammed me down on the opposite counter. My head hit the microwave shelf.

"Shit!" he shouted. "You okay?"

I laughed. "I'm fine!"

He fucked me at the sink, made me cum again with his fingers, then went back to check the shrimp like it was a completely normal evening.

I dropped to my knees and sucked him again. He held my head, fucked my mouth, moaned my name. It was primal and perfect.

We finally ate. I lay back on the couch, playing with my pussy while he watched me, fork in hand.

He barely finished before he picked me up, laid me back, and buried his face between my thighs. I was close again, but he stopped.

Then he kissed me, tasting me, and I slid down to take his cock again -- teasing, licking, deep-throating, gagging, everything he loved.

Finally, he pulled me up and slid into me -- slow and deep.

"Fuck," I moaned, loud. His cock filled me like only he could. I tightened around him, so close to cumming again.

He flipped me beneath him, pulled me closer, lifted my hips -- and fucked me harder. Each thrust deeper, rougher, sending waves through my whole body.

"Play with your pussy," he said.

I hesitated -- I knew I wouldn't last.

He was losing control, pounding into me, groaning.

I rubbed my clit and came hard -- screaming his name -- just as he exploded inside me.

When we were done, I licked him clean, swallowing every last drop.

Explosive. Every time.

And I knew it wouldn't be long before we were in the shower, doing it all over again.