Sex in the kitchen was unsanitary, he fully believed that. Something about the messiness of cum and fluids mixed in where they ate…just sent shivers up his spine.
But here he was, peering around the edge of the door, biting his lip as his wife shook her hips to the tune of the radio, warbling like a proud songbird as she stirred a bowl of batter wearing a gingham apron…and…that was it. That was all she had on beyond a pair of sparkly red heels. The apron and the heels and her flowing blonde hair that bounced down her back in beautiful waves.
