Spice in the Kitchen

In all fairness, she was exhausted, and he should have been helping cook dinner. Olivia had been cooking for awhile, and Alan's teasing hadn't really been of any help. Olivia kept dicing and mixing as Alan disinterestedly was waiting for the oven to preheat.

"So you're going to remember to soak the pan again, right?" Alan stood with a cocky grin that had always been the centerpiece of his school-yard taunting. As charming as Olivia had found him, he still had the bad habit of returning to the mindset of an elementary school boy pulling on the cute girl's hair for attention when he was bored.

"As soon as you remember to do a few sit-ups." She pointed at the gut just barely protruding over his belt, waving her knife at him.

Alan's face immediately went a shade of red as he fidgeted with his belt, trying to relieve the accentuation of a beer belly brought on by the tightness of the belt. Alan was always sensitive about that, but Olivia had never minded it. The thin layer of fat he had built up was somewhat attractive in a sort of settling-down-together way, as the two moved into their early thirty's and their collective ability to eat whatever, whenever, had been rapidly deteriorating for both of them. Alan's attempts simply ended with him simply removing the belt and placing it on the counter. He stood, looking a bit annoyed.

"Can dish it out, but can't take it, huh?" Olivia, though she hated when Alan smirked, couldn't help but don the same arrogant grin.

"I didn't make it personal! You do suck at doing the dishes. That's just a fact." Alan's tone had shifted to a limping hurt with the bruise on his ego, but Olivia was never one to go easy.

"Just luck the gut." Olivia winked and turned to continue chopping.

The sting was sudden, but not overly sharp. The surprise was the more pleasing part, her heart jumping a few beats. She threw the knife to cutting board and turned about, "what the fuck Alan!?"

The man stood there with the belt folded in his hand, his smile still playful, his poise ready for Olivia to start pawing back in their play-fight dance. His anticipatory look was strange, almost as if he was responding to a cue of hers, not simply aggressing as he always had.

"Seriously, what the fuck, Alan?" She continued the question as she rubbed the back of her skirt. "Next time you try for that, I'll smack you back." Olivia felt something swelling, something familiar. She had no idea what started it, Alan's teasing was old-hat. But it couldn't have been...

His face had already shifted, "Did you like that?" Alan's expression still held the familiar snarky pose, but there was an undercurrent of genuine curiosity.

"No, I did not." Olivia tried to sound collected, but the pause she took lasted a fragment longer than she would have pleased.

Alan moved in closer across the small kitchen, licked his lips contemplatively, and pointed down. "You're tightening your thighs together."

Olivia looked down with an expression of guilt, her classic tell, flexing her thighs when she was aroused. "It could have been anything, maybe I was just turned on by myself."

"What?" Alan let out with a cough of a laugh. He pulled her closer with one arm around her waist and tapped her at the small of her back with the belt once again. "You. Like. That."

The woman shoved him away and looked annoyed, "even if I did, you don't have to toy with me over it."

Alan moved once again across the narrow space and pulled Olivia closely. He kissed her passionately, and there was an electricity in it that she had not felt from something so simple in quite some time. She responded in kind, placing her hands onto his shoulders. Though he was a slight build, his frame was always strong, and she could feel his body tighten as she touched him. The kiss was like the bursting of a dam, and the two quickly and clumsily began undressing. Alan managed to throw off his clothes while kissing her neck and shoulders in a matter of moments; while Oliva had only managed to have removed her shirt and bra. Clearly, Alan didn't mind as he pulled her panties to the side and pushed her against the kitchen wall.

"Wait." She was still wearing her heels, and found them comfortable as she slid down the wall into a squat and took his cock in both her hands, slowly massaging and pulling on him. There was already a bead of slick forming in a fattened droplet at the head of his cock. Instinctively Olivia licked it away and swallowed heavily for emphasis. Alan could do little but moan as he placed a hand onto the back of her head, pushing her mouth onto his growing member.

Olivia could taste his excitement, the heat of his skin quickly building as he flooded to engorgement, the gentle and subtle build of sweat, and the next few beads of liquid brought forth with a spasm of his hips and a moan. She moaned out a giggle, preparing for her triumph at Alan's impending orgasm.

Alan pulled his cock away with a pop, pulling saliva down Olivia's chin. "Not yet," he said through hooded eyes.

Alan bent down and placed two fingers inside of her, sliding in easily at her excitement. With his free hand, he pulled her upwards by the clit and the small of her back, and spun her around. Pulling up her skirt a bit further, and tearing off her panties with a loud tear, he began to rub his head and the entrance of Olivia's cunt.

Olivia's elbows fell onto the rough countertop, but she had no concern, her body was already coursing with endorphins from the rush of their instantaneous passion. She took a look over her shoulder, "just fuck me hard."

Taking instruction, Alan scooped up the absent belt and struck her across the inside of her thigh. Olivia arched and gasped, incidentally backing onto his waiting length. Without hesitation or word, Olivia began to back into Alan, grinding on him, leaving him to simply stand and watch, his back pinned against the opposite wall, as he slowly raised the belt again.

The sharp crack of it sounded worse than it felt; but then again, it felt pretty good in that moment. The tensing of her muscles caused Alan to stammer a soft moan.

Riding Alan as the two stood in the kitchen lasted for much longer than it had felt. Alan had already managed to stumble into breathless gasps as he began to arrive. Not ready for the moment to be over, Alan pulled Olivia away from the table as he slapped her roughly with the belt once more across her ass, leaving an already swelling welt. Olivia didn't let out a gasp of pain, but a sigh of pleasure, and then a short laugh.

The two ran into the hallway of their apartment before Alan managed to grab her and push her against the wall. He kissed her once more, forcefully. Their tongues explored and intertwined, their hands desperately pulling one another closer and closer beyond their physical limit. As Alan took control, he guided her onto the floor, and then onto her back, taking the moment to lower his head to her mons as he kissed the tender skin. He ushered his face deep into her thighs, rapidly working his tongue over her clit, fanning it back and forth. Every few moments he would pause to suck on the little pearl and drive his fingers deeper into her.

Olivia was moving towards her third orgasm of the night. She wasn't one to come frequently, and the stress had made her legs feel shaky and weak. Alan could sense the fight in her giving out, and his excitement at bay. He seized the opportunity to lift her up, from the floor, and push her over the couch, spreading her heeled feet and pulling her ass into the air by the raised skirt, now a band of black around her waist.

The inclination came to him suddenly, not something that he personally had done before, nor really planned on ever doing. Alan dropped to his knees and tongued, not the waiting and trembling vulva, but a spot just a bit higher. The taste wasn't entirely unpleasant, and utterly worth it for the loud yelp of shock and heat that came from his partner. He could feel her lips dew with come at the feeling of her ass being explored, and a hand shot out from Olivia to grip the back of the couch with a tight hold.

After a moment of sufficient priming, Alan stood cock in hand, and moved to Olivia's mouth once more. The belt was back in his hand, folded as before. Olivia felt a raw, primal, and, yet, almost comical lust towards the display. Alan looked strong, and his face looked driven. He kissed her as she continued to bend over the arm of the couch, then replaced his tongue with his girth. She sucked obediently, and was awarded two sharp slaps of the belt. Olivia hummed in appreciation.

Alan circled around his partner once again, and kissed her shoulder as he leaned over top of her waiting back. And that was the night of a second first.

Much like the slap of the belt, the event was less painful than it was surprising; and, much like the belt, it caused an unexpected warmth once again.

His hips bucked slowly, gently, as he worked his way inside and out. He gripped the skirt in one hand, like a mounting a bull, and slowly pulled her closer as he thrust in. "Sorry, Vee, I always wanted to try this."

Another crack of his belt. She felt herself beginning to drip. She took a hand and started to finger herself, and she could feel his thickness working inside her. She pressed against the wall of herself to give more pressure on Alan's efforts. The next orgasm was different, something new. It felt as though it was building from someplace deeper, someplace more dulled, but just as strong. The rising warmth and pressure kept coming on, and the sounds of their movements grew louder.

Alan was coming to a pitch. His strokes were violent, needful, and deep. Olivia began to claw the cushions with fury as the pleasant pain of being fucked and the lash of the belt grew more intense. It was like falling over the edge of a cliff, the sudden crescendo and the jolting stop that led into the long shadow of climax.

The final orgasm of the night belonged to Alan. He pulled away, stroking himself with loud moans, still holding onto the skirt. Olivia looked over her shoulder at him, stroking himself to completion as heavy threads of come spouted out of him and onto her ass, cunt, and thighs. He circled the couch once again to kiss her deeply, softly, and with tenderness that belied the roughness of her taking.

And just as quickly as it started, so did it end. With one slap on her come covered thigh, he said: "you clean up. I'll finish dinner."