Chapter 2: A New Beginning in the Kitchen
The sour taste of last night’s whiskey coated Torrey’s tongue as she blinked awake, the memory of Dave’s rough hands a phantom weight on her sticky thighs. Across the kitchen, Kaylee smirked over her chipped mug, her phone screen glowing with a single new message: Same time next week. “He’s already planning his encore,” Kaylee said, her voice a low rasp, and without another word she slid from her stool and dropped to her knees on the cold linoleum. Her fingers hooked into the waistband of Torrey’s sleep shorts, yanking them down, and her mouth descended, her tongue a hot, relentless stripe through the dried, salty crust Dave had left behind. Torrey’s head thudded back against the cabinet, a shattered gasp escaping her lips as Kaylee’s tongue delved deeper, lapping and claiming what belonged to him, preparing her for next time.
Her hips canted forward, seeking the pressure of Kaylee’s mouth, when Torrey’s voice, ragged and wanting, cut through the humid kitchen air. “Should we tease him all week?” Torrey panted, her fingers tangling in Kaylee’s pink hair. “Lots of pictures…hints of what he’s missing waiting a full week.” Kaylee pulled back, her chin glistening, and smirked. “He doesn’t want Tonya to get suspicious,” she said, before diving back between Torrey’s thighs with renewed hunger.
Torrey’s hips jerked at the name, a sharp, illicit thrill cutting through her. “Fuck, say her name again,” Torrey whispered, her voice raw, and Kaylee chuckled darkly against her skin. Her tongue, broad and wet, swirled through Torrey’s folds, gathering the stale remnants of Dave and her own fresh arousal into a salty, bitter mix. “You like that, you filthy slut?” Kaylee murmured, her words vibrating into Torrey’s cunt. “Thinking of his wife while I taste where he fucked you.”
Torrey’s breath hitched, her fingers tightening in Kaylee’s hair as she shoved her face deeper into her wetness. “Yeah, say it again,” she gasped, her back arching off the cold cabinet door. Kaylee’s tongue stabbed into her, rough and relentless, before she added two fingers, curling them upwards to find that tender spot inside. “Tonya’s probably making him pancakes right now,” Kaylee murmured, her voice muffled by Torrey’s flesh, “while her husband’s slut is still dripping with his load.” Torrey came with a sharp, shuddering cry, her cunt clenching around Kaylee’s invading fingers as the shame and the thrill twisted together into one perfect, blinding point.