'Till Death Do Us Part

Adventures In The Kitchen

*mature*

"D-Danny? What're you doing?"
"Shh...."
*********
~fifteen minutes earlier~
Linda sighed as she chopped the vegetables for the salad. She had an unsettling feeling in her stomach, specifically the kind that longed for sexual contact. She had been riding shot gun in the front seat of their car, when she suddenly felt a hand on her thigh. It was Danny's, of course, and he started rubbing her thigh, bringing the hem of her red dress up. Her eyes were closed, lip between her teeth, when he took his hand away and boldly announced they had arrived.
Linda rubbed her thighs against each other, trying to get rid of that feeling. She seriously contemplated taking care of it herself, but figured that was very inappropriate for the setting. She and Danny has never done 'it' at his parents' house. Four years of marriage, hardly any secrets, no one paying attention to where anyone was in the house, and she still refused. It was "creepy and weird, and very rude" she had told her husband.
Linda looked around the kitchen, seeing if anyone was around. She snuck to the door frame, peering in the dining room. No one there... After checking for any peepers, she put the knife down, and slowly lowered her hand to her fabric-clad crotch. She rubbed herself atop her underwear and dress, her eyes closing and lip going between her teeth. She heard footsteps approaching, and quickly picked up the knife. She bit her tongue while swiftly cutting the vegetables.
"You're gonna cut off a finger if you're not careful," Danny pointed to the cutting board.
"Oh, yeah," she laughed nervously, feeling suddenly guilty.
It didn't take much detective work for Danny to figure out what was going on. He walked over to Linda, standing behind her. His arms encircled her middle, his chin resting on her shoulder.
The blonde tried to concentrate on the vegetables, not on Danny's hot breath on her neck, or that they were pressed together, or that-
"D-Danny? What're you doing?" Linda felt the skirt of her dress being pulled up ever so slightly.
"Shh," was all he said as he kissed her earlobe.
She closed her eyes as she felt his hands grip her butt, his fingers sighing into her skin. He moved his hands up, bringing her dress hem above her hips, exposing her underwear.
Danny smiled when he saw Linda was wearing a red, lacy thong that matched her dress; he traced the edge of the minimal fabric, sending tingles through his wife's body. Hooking his fingers beneath the band, he enticed a moan from Linda.
She gripped the edge of the top of the island when she felt the fabric being peeled away. She felt the thong catch at her knees, then fall around her ankles when Danny separated her thighs. He groped her butt again, then slid his hands to her hips, and down her femurs. He reversed his motions, wishing he could see the frustration on his wife's face.
Linda tipped her head back, breathing a little heavier than before. She scrunched her eyes as she felt Danny's fingers tap her pelvis. She reached for the dish towel, knotting and twisting it in her fists. That same guilty feeling started coming back, mixed with enough pleasure, that made the blonde not care. "Danny..."
The detective smirked and scratched at her dark curls, sending heat to bubble in his stomach. Maybe he shouldn't have started this in the first place.... although, he supposed, it was too late now. At her whimper, he massaged her sensitive clit, first slowly, then fast, then slow once more.
"Danny..." Linda moaned again, her voice shaky in anticipation. She frowned when he didn't give her what she wanted.
The detective, very gradually, slipped a finger into her. He saw her knuckles go white while twisting the dish towel. He counted the slow twists- one, two, three, four. At four, he plunged another finger in, going in and barely out slowly. A moan, eight twists, and another plea had him doing the scissors motions- something his wife loved. He started out slow, then gradually accelerated, watching the towel go in between the blonde's teeth.
Linda's stomach hurt with pre-orgasm heat. She was sure she had been tasting blood from the lip previously between her teeth. "D-Danny, we-we should—— I'm a- about t-to-" her hand flew to her mouth as she shook with pleasure. So much for not orgasming in Danny's parents' kitchen. The warm juices spilled down her legs, onto Danny's hand, and on the dishes on the island shelf, no doubt. She became limp, and vaguely registered when Danny lowered them to the floor. He took the towel- which had fallen from her teeth, and wiped her thighs and his hand. He knew for sure that the pots and pans were covered in Linda's juices, leaving him to wonder how they were going to clean it up.
The cold floor felt refreshing on Linda's hot, bare butt, as she sat between Danny's legs, her skirt still above her hips. Moments passed before she tried to stand up, gripping the counter immediately. How could her legs be sore when all she did was stand?
Danny pulled her thong back up, pausing to kiss her wet curls. He pulled her skirt back down, smoothing out the wrinkles. "Nothing happened, agreed?"
She nodded, not finding her voice.
"Good. We gotta clean this up..."
Linda examined the pots and pans while Danny got the Swifer. "I'm never gonna be able to be in this room again."
Danny smirked, "I didn't think you'd actually cum in the kitchen."
"That's how good you are..." she stood and walked to the sink, arms laden with the few culinary items that were.... affected. She started washing the dishes, planing her revenge.