Horny Girlfriend Cums on Cooker – Real Kitchen Fuck & Creampie

Sarah stood at the stove stirring pasta sauce, the kitchen smelling like garlic and tomatoes. It was Tuesday evening, nothing special. John had just gotten home from work, still in his work shirt with the sleeves rolled up. The TV in the living room droned some reality show neither of them cared about.
She wore an old tank top and yoga pants, hair in a messy bun. Sauce bubbled, steam rising. John came up behind her, hands sliding around her waist.
“Smells good,” he muttered against her neck.
Sarah smirked, leaning back into him. “The sauce or me?”
“Both.” His fingers dipped under her shirt, brushing her stomach. She didn’t stop him.
He pressed closer, already half-hard against her ass. Sarah turned the burner down low. “We got maybe ten minutes before this burns.”
“That’s all I need,” John said, voice rough.
She laughed quietly, nervous about the open window. Neighbors could hear if they got loud. But the risk made her wet already.
John tugged her pants down just enough, bunching them at her thighs. No panties—she’d skipped them after her shower. His hand slid between her legs, fingers finding her hairy pussy already slick.
“Fuck, you’re soaked,” he groaned.
Sarah gripped the counter edge. “Been thinking about you all day.”
He rubbed her clit in slow circles, making her hips twitch. She bit her lip to stay quiet. The sauce popped on the stove.
John unzipped fast, cock springing out thick and ready. He rubbed the head along her slit, coating himself in her wetness.
“Put it in,” she whispered urgently.
He pushed forward slow at first. Her pussy stretched around him, warm and tight. Sarah gasped, pushing back to take more.
“Goddamn,” John grunted. He bottomed out, balls pressed against her.
They stayed like that a second—him buried deep, her bent over the stove. Then he started thrusting, short and hard.
The sound of skin slapping filled the kitchen. Quiet at first, then louder. Sarah braced on the counter, tits swaying under her top.
“Harder,” she panted.
John gripped her hips, pounding faster. Her pussy made wet squelching noises with every stroke. Sweat beaded on her lower back.
She reached down, rubbing her clit while he fucked her. “Right there—fuck yes.”
The cooker knobs dug into her stomach a little, but she didn’t care. Heat from the burner warmed her thighs.
John’s thrusts got erratic. “I’m close already.”
“Cum inside me,” Sarah begged. “Fill me up.”
He slammed in deep a few more times. Then he pulled out suddenly, stroking fast.
Sarah spun around, hopping up to sit on the edge of the cooker. The metal was warm against her ass, not burning but hot enough to feel risky. She spread her legs wide, pink pussy glistening, dark hair matted with her juices.
John stepped between her thighs, aiming his cock right at her mound.
“On top—do it,” she said, voice shaky with need.
He jerked himself hard, grunting. Thick ropes of cum shot out, splattering across her hairy pussy, dripping down her lips and onto the cooker surface.
Some landed on her clit, warm and sticky. Sarah moaned, rubbing it in with her fingers, smearing his load over her folds.
John kept pumping, milking every drop until white streaks coated her pubic hair and puddled on the black stove top.
“Fuck… look at that mess,” he breathed.
Sarah laughed breathlessly, legs still trembling. Cum dripped slowly off her pussy lips onto the cooker.
She slid down carefully, avoiding the wet spots. Pulled her pants back up, feeling his cum soak into the fabric immediately.
John zipped up, glancing at the sauce. “Shit, it’s still okay.”
Sarah turned the burner off, stirred once. “We’re eating in five. Clean that up before it dries.”
He grabbed a paper towel, wiping the cooker while she fixed her hair.
They bumped hips, both grinning stupidly.
“Next time I’m bending you over the sink,” John said.
Sarah smirked. “Only if you cum on the counter too.”
The TV laughed in the background. Dinner was almost ready. Life went back to normal—just with sticky thighs and the faint smell of sex under the garlic.