Kayla Cumsalot 1844-33-CANDY ext 357

Last night, I was in your kitchen. Listening to music and dancing around all by myself. There’s something so comfortable about being in your space all alone. Breathing in your home and feeling the comfort of your arms without you being there to hold me.

I didn’t expect you home for an hour or so. Work often holds on to you later than we both think it will. I was so into the song and stirring what was in the pan that I didn’t hear you come in. As my hips swayed with the rhythm of the music and I didn’t sense you watching me. Not even when you slipped behind me and wrapped your arms around my waist.

Welcome Home

 

You pressed yourself into my back and whispered a “Whatcha cooking?” in my ear. It scared me but you held me in place while I jumped. A shocked cuss fell out of my mouth and I pushed my ass into you for scaring me, which made you laugh.

Then, as a peace offering, you kissed my temple and moved away from my body to open a bottle of wine. I watch you as you watch me. Both of us smirking for different reasons. My gaze focuses on your hands as you twist and pull the cork free from the bottle. It’s easy to see your gaze is locked in on the way my tank top doesn’t fully cover the side curve of my breasts.

We talked about the day as I finished preparing a meal for us to share together. You just lean against the sink. Reaching for me every time I passed you. You’d lightly brush your hand over my ass or grip my elbow and pull me in for a kiss whenever something had to be put in the sink behind you.

Just playful and sweet. Knowingly making me soaked and unfocused.

Kayla Cumsalot 1844-33-CANDY ext 357