Filling More Than Just Pies

Nicole and Addison stand in the kitchen wearing nothing but baking aprons that barely cover their asses. Their rule is simple: naked under the cotton, the air against wet skin while sugar caramelizes in the oven. The pie sits in its dish, crust browning slow. Nicole steps behind Addison and grabs her hips through the apron. She jerks the string loose at the small of her back. The fabric falls open, exposing the round cheeks Addison arches out on purpose. “Spreading like dough,” Nicole mutters against Addison’s neck. She spits on two fingers and works them between Addison’s folds, finding her already slick. Nicole strokes her open, slow and deep, thumb rubbing tight circles over her clit. Addison moans, knuckles white on the counter. Nicole reaches down to the drawer beneath the island and pulls out the thick strap-on she prepped earlier. She steps into the harness, buckles it tight. The silicone cock stands rigid between the ties of her apron. Nicole pushes Addison forward over the warm countertop. One palm presses her lower back; the other guides the cock to her cunt. She shoves in hard. Addison gasps, mouth open, a long string of spit dropping onto the granite. Nicole starts thrusting, the slap of skin loud under the hum of the oven fan. Her apron swings open, so her own bare tits press against Addison’s shoulder blades. Addison meets each stroke, hips rolling back, cunt gripping the shaft so tight Nicole grits her teeth. Addison’s hand snakes between her legs, fingers blurring on her swollen clit. Nicole reaches around, covers those fingers with her own, forcing them to rub faster, harder. Addison’s thighs shake. She comes with a raw, choked sound, cunt pulsing around the cock buried deep. Nicole doesn’t pull out. She rocks slower now, letting Addison feel every inch. With her free hand she drags two fingers through the mess of come on the head of the strap and brings them to Addison’s mouth. Addison sucks them greedily, tongue licking the silicone clean. The timer dings. They stay locked together, breathing hard, sweat cooling on flushed skin. Nicole grins against Addison’s damp hair. “Pie’s ready,” she says, voice low and rough. “So are we.”