Kinky

The kitchen door clicks. Once. Twice. Lock bolts shoot home and the room changes temperature. Marielou backs against the counter, kitchen tiles cool on her calves. Tanita drops to her knees without a word. Hands unfasten denim, drag panties sideways. A tongue parts slick lips, tastes. Salt, heat, the faint sting of sugar left from baking earlier. Marielou grabs the edge of the sink, knuckles white, hips already rolling into Tanita’s mouth. Tanita’s fingers press upward, two slipping inside with a soft, wet sound that rises louder than their breathing. She curls her knuckles, drags the pads against the ridged spot that makes Marielou’s breath break. When Marielou comes, her thighs clamp, shaking, and the espresso machine rattles behind her. Tanita stands, lips gleaming, and undoes her own jeans with one impatient hand. “Your turn,” she says, voice rough.