Mmm… something smells amazing.
Veronica is cooking meatloaf, and that only means one thing: it's Sunday, so Veronica doesn't work and we get to spend the whole day together.
She has plenty of great qualities, but cooking isn't one of them. That said, she doesn't get much free time to improve.
After all, she's the director of the U.S. branch of Seiryu Biotech — a Japanese pharmaceutical giant with research centers all over the world. That job takes up a ridiculous amount of her time, but I'd say the money more than makes up for it — yeah, just in case it wasn't clear, that woman is filthy rich.
That's why we have a housekeeper, Mrs. Morales, who takes care of everything — including cooking for me during the week.
And yet, somehow, Veronica's meatloaf always comes out amazing, and since she insists on cooking whenever we have a day together, she always makes the one dish she's good at.
But honestly, when she's wearing that apron that's completely open at the back, with nothing but a thin red thong underneath, she could cook anything and I'd eat it in a heartbeat.
«My little Jacey,» — that's the nickname she uses when we're alone — «how about we go out for dinner tonight at that rest—»
But she stops mid-sentence the instant she feels my hands grabbing her breasts from behind, squeezing and kneading them hard.
God, those tits are the eighth wonder of the world. Firm, huge — I could stay pressed against her all day.
«J-Jacey… g-give me a second, I'm still cooking…»
She tells me to stop, but her body is begging for more.
She pushes her hips back just a little — her rock-hard ass grinding against my equally rock-hard dick.
I lick her neck from her shoulder blade all the way up to her ear, then gently nibble her earlobe — a trick that always drives her wild, and then…
«Ah!»
A sharp gasp escapes her lips — she just cut the tip of her finger with the big kitchen knife while chopping vegetables.
Blood — the perfect finishing touch to this perfect Sunday morning.
And she knows it — she knows her blood triggers something in me, makes me lose control completely, strips away every last inhibition.
She does it deliberately when she presses her finger against my mouth, letting the tiny cut drip onto my tongue, flooding my palate with that intoxicating sweetness.
I yank her thong down in one swift motion, letting it slide to the floor around her bare feet.
She bends forward with her back arched, her tongue hanging from her parted lips — panting, moaning, screaming my name as her nails dig into my thighs and she pulls me toward her, as every inch of my cock slides into her hot, soaked pussy.
Moments like this are when I thank every deity for making Veronica choose me that cold December morning.
She once told me she had always wanted a child, but her job left no room for a relationship.
Raising a newborn on her own wasn't an option, so she adopted one who was already ten. And in a way, I solved both her problems: the desire for a son and the desire for a lover.
«J-Jacey… today you're… you're even more passionate than usual… God, you're driving me crazy!» she screams.
And no, we don't live in some isolated villa in the middle of nowhere, but in a loft in one of the most luxurious skyscrapers in all of Midtown Manhattan, and I'm almost certain the soundproofing isn't enough to hide her sharp moans and wild screams of pleasure.
But I don't give a fuck.
People can gossip all they want, accuse us of stuff like incest or abuse — nothing will ever stop me from fucking her every single time we get the chance, and she feels exactly the same.
We talked about it once, actually, but Veronica made herself clear about it:
«This is my house, and I fuck when, how, and especially with whom I want! If some unsatisfied woman or jealous man can't stand the fact that you make me scream that hard, that's their problem — not mine!»
«Jacey…! Jacey…! Come inside me, Jacey…! I want it all… I want all of it inside me…!»
Instinctively, my fingers tighten around her hips. My cock slams into her harder, faster, until my orgasm explodes inside her at the exact same moment her warm juices run down her thighs, mixing with my own after one last, prolonged scream of pure pleasure.
My thick cum slowly drips down her trembling legs.
She turns toward me — her tongue slides into my mouth, and mine into hers, twisting together while my still-hard dick presses firmly between her thighs.
«Looks like someone isn't finished yet…» Veronica whispers with a mischievous smile, gripping my still-pulsing erection.
«Finished? Please — we haven't even started.»