Cutleries from a different point of view

Alisa and Sasha claimed they were cooking. They stood close at the counter, pretending to discuss recipes while their minds fixed on each other. Minutes later their clothes were on the floor. Alisa pushed two fingers deep into Sasha’s cunt, feeling the tight heat grip her. Sasha moaned, reached back, and worked her own fingers into Alisa’s ass, slow and steady. They switched places often—Alisa bent over the table while Sasha licked and sucked her swollen clit, then Sasha on the kitchen stool with her legs wide, letting Alisa tongue-fuck her pussy until her thighs shook. They used wooden spoons, chilled metal whisks, whatever lay within reach, sliding them in and out, watching the slick shine on every surface they touched. Hours passed. No food was made, only sweat-slick skin, wet sounds, and the smell of sex thick in the warm kitchen air.