Emily stood at the kitchen counter chopping vegetables for dinner, wearing nothing but one of Michael’s oversized t-shirts that barely covered her ass. The TV droned in the living room with some random cooking show. It was a normal Tuesday evening in their small apartment. Michael had just gotten home from work, still in his jeans and t-shirt, and he leaned against the doorway watching her.
“Hey babe, that smells good,” he said, walking up behind her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed the side of her neck. Emily smiled and leaned back into him. She could already feel him getting hard against her ass through his jeans.
“Missed you today,” she murmured, still slicing carrots. But her voice had that little edge to it. Michael slid his hands under the t-shirt and cupped her bare tits, thumbs brushing over her nipples until they stiffened.
“Fuck, you’re not wearing anything underneath?” He squeezed a little harder and she let out a soft laugh.
“Was waiting for you to notice.” She set the knife down and turned around to face him. At 19, Emily looked every bit the cute girl-next-door with her messy ponytail, freckles, and innocent smile that hid how filthy she could be.
Michael didn’t waste time. He kissed her hard, tongues sliding together while his hands roamed down to grab her ass. The kitchen was still a mess from her cooking — cutting board out, pots on the stove, faint smell of garlic and onions in the air. The blinds were half-open, but they didn’t care much about neighbors right now.
“Get on your knees,” he told her, voice low and urgent.
Emily dropped right there on the kitchen floor tiles, her bare knees pressing against the cool surface. She looked up at him with big eyes as she unbuckled his belt and yanked his jeans and boxers down. His thick cock sprang out, already rock hard and heavy. It was a big one — veiny, with a fat head that always stretched her mouth.
“God, it’s so fucking big today,” she whispered, wrapping her small hand around the base. She stroked it a couple times, watching precum bead at the tip.
Michael groaned and put one hand on the counter for balance. “Suck it, Em. All the way.”
She didn’t tease. Emily opened her mouth wide and took him in, lips stretching around his girth. She bobbed her head, taking more each time, saliva already dripping down her chin. The wet slurping sounds filled the kitchen, mixing with the low hum of the TV. She pushed forward until her nose pressed against his stomach, throat bulging as she deepthroated him.
“Fuuuck yes,” Michael grunted. He grabbed her ponytail and held her there for a second, feeling her throat contract around him. Emily gagged a little but kept going, eyes watering as she pulled back for air, strings of spit connecting her lips to his shiny cock.
She gasped, “I love choking on your cock,” then dove back in, sucking harder. Her head moved faster, sloppy and loud. Drool ran down her chin onto the t-shirt, making wet spots on her tits. Michael thrust gently into her mouth, fucking her face while she moaned around him.
The scene got messier. Emily pulled off for a moment, gasping, and slapped his wet cock against her tongue before swallowing it again. She worked the shaft with her hand while sucking the head, tongue swirling. Her other hand reached between her legs to rub her pussy — she was soaked.
“Shit, you’re dripping on the floor,” Michael laughed breathlessly. He could hear the wet sounds of her fingers on her clit.
Emily looked up at him, mouth full, and nodded eagerly. She pushed deeper again, gagging loudly but holding it. Her throat squeezed him perfectly. Michael’s legs tensed.
“I’m gonna cum soon, baby.”
She pulled back just enough to speak, voice hoarse. “Cum on my face. Please. I want it all over me.”
That pushed him over. Michael stroked his cock fast while Emily opened her mouth and stuck her tongue out, eyes locked on his. He groaned loud as the first thick rope of cum shot across her face, landing on her cheek and nose. More followed — heavy spurts hitting her lips, chin, and dripping down onto her t-shirt. Some got in her hair.
Emily moaned, licking what she could reach with her tongue. She looked wrecked — face glazed with his load, mascara smudged, spit everywhere.
Michael breathed hard, cock still twitching. “Holy fuck, that was good.”
She smiled up at him, cum dripping from her chin. “Dinner’s almost ready… but I might need to clean up first.”
They both laughed. Michael helped her up and handed her a paper towel from the counter. She wiped her face while he pulled his pants back up. The stove timer beeped in the background — real life kicking back in.
Emily adjusted her t-shirt, which now had cum stains on it, and went back to stirring the pot like nothing happened. But her flushed cheeks and the satisfied grin on her face said it all. Just another quickie in their everyday apartment, raw and real.

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