Favorite Meal

Alison Rey tosses her apron aside after tasting the sauce, revealing the new dress she's wearing just for Hazel. She lunges for the pepper she's forgotten and knocks the ladle clean off the counter. Red spatters her front, ruining everything in one hot streak. Naked in her kitchen now, heart hammering, she hears Hazel's key in the lock. Hazel steps into the dining room when Alison tells her to, already moaning about the smell of her favorite meal. Then Alison walks in wearing only the apron. Bare legs, bare ass, the strings barely covering the sides of her tits. She lays out napkins, reaches across Hazel, letting the curve of her cheek brush the other woman's shoulder. Every trip back to the kitchen she sways slow, deliberate, letting Hazel watch her ass jiggle. Last, she drops a cloth napkin across Hazel's lap and feels fingers close around her wrist. Hazel pulls her in, eyes dark. "Dinner first," she murmurs, "but dessert can wait."