I looked over at David sleeping soundly. He deserved a good night sleep. I slunk underneath the sheets trying my absolute best not to move the sheets with my naked body.

One bare leg fell out of the side of the bed. Then the other. Then the pure white sheets smoothly wafted over my torso as I wiggled out of the bed. I turned to pat the sheets down in their place. Dozing David didn’t even notice my little move. Success! That wasn’t dramatic at all, I thought.

I picked up David’s “Fall Out Boy” t-shirt and put it on before walking out of my bedroom.

“Ow,” I quietly whispered when I approached the kitchen. I keeled over and put my hands on my knees. “Ow,” I repeated as I tried to straighten up. I have not had cramps like this in a long time. Big, meaty, luscious, just overall good dick cramps.

I murmured to myself, “it really was a good night,” a satisfied smile spread across my face. I could not get rid of it as I sauntered over to the fridge with my cramping vagina.

The stacked fridge opened with a beaming light. I dug through to grab the carton of eggs and my last remaining package of bulk bacon. Bacon, I believed, was meant to be bought in bulk.

I was planning to make some morning after fuel. My 12-inch tall stool sat in my tiny apartment kitchen. I could never reach the cabinets and used those extra 12-inches religiously. The height was necessary to grab the remaining items for breakfast. David’s t-shirt was not long enough to cover my full ass when I reached up.

I shuffled around in the top cabinets for the flour, baking powder, and sugar, placing them neatly one by one on the counter. I shut the cabinet door closed and came back down to my natural height.

“That’s a sexy look,” I heard from behind me. I lost my breath and slapped a hand to my chest in fear in the split second it took to spin around.

“David! You scared me,” I giggled “I thought you were sleeping.”

“I was, but now I’m not,” David responded. He leaned in the kitchen entrance wearing only his pale blue boxer briefs, arms crossed, one leg crossed over the other, and a grin on his face.

“Oh, thank you for explaining,” I repeated the sarcasm. I turned around to face my ingredients and started to measure out the flour needed in a smallish batch of pancakes.

“What do you have going on here?” David questioned from behind me.

“Just some pancakes, bacon, and eggs,” I said flatly as I focused on measuring the baking powder.

“From scratch,” David rhetorically picked up on, “mmmm.”

His barefoot feet made a cold sticking sound in the moment he approached me from behind. He wrapped his arms around my waist, hugging tight as though he just tied a bow. His chin rested on my shoulder and he turned his scruffy face to give me a lingering kiss on my cheek. I closed my eyes and fell into his hold.

He let go and leaned back on the empty counter space next to me. “What was that for?” I asked, while cracking an egg into the dry mix.

He paused, “hmm, for, uhh everything.” I cracked the last egg and turned around on one leg to place both shells in the sink, then swiftly spun back around to the pending batter.

David grabbed my waist mid spin and sucked in my breath for a kiss. Neither of us had brushed our teeth yet. He moaned against my lips. Kissing the top lip, then the bottom, then the top. He moved slowly of morning desire. His largely gratifying hands cupped my ass cheeks and picked me up. I wrapped my legs around David’s waist, pulling myself closer whether he pushed me closer or not. His lips still slow, but firm upon mine. He gripped my ass tighter. He lifted me higher. He took the two steps across the kitchen to put me down on the opposite faux wood countertop.

His hands rested on my now warm legs. My hands fell from around his neck to the sides of his face. I was not ready for the kiss to end. He bit my bottom lip. I groaned in approval. He responded with one soft kiss, planted his burley hands on either side of me and pulled away to look at me with the cruelest smile.

“How about you teach me how to do the rest of this,” David suggested completely changing the topic again.

“Would you like that?” I asked shaking my head to remove the dirty thoughts and wiggling the t-shirt beneath my ass. This is a clean countertop after all.

“Very much,” David backed away and turned towards the pancake bowl.

“Well I forgot the butter, so you’ll need some of that,” I retorted matter of fact.

“How much butter, miss?” David opened the fridge and grabbed a stick of butter. He held it in the air for me to see.

I giggled, “Just 3 tablespoons.”

He turned to me looking from the butter to me with a raised eyebrow, “are you sure that’s all you need miss?”

“For the pancakes,” I raised my eyebrow as well, “yes,” Fuck he was cute.

“As you wish,” he quickly warmed the butter in his hands and then cut the amount I directed. I don’t know if that was an effective way to warm butter, but I liked whatever he just did.

He mixed in the ingredients. His shoulder and back muscles pulsing with each turn of the spoon. I wanted to press my lips on every inch of his back. I remained on the counter where he left me thinking I should have given him directions for something else. When David determined the batter was thoroughly mixed he picked up the remaining butter stick to put back in the fridge. It took him a moment too long however.

“What’s next?” he inquired from the fridge. He closed the door and walked back over to me. His right index finger was outstretched from the rest of his hand.

I didn’t answer. I was wondering what he was doing. My eyes followed him and his finger. He raised his arm and staring at my lips, began to trace them with his finger. It was coated with something slick. But I was focused on his focus. I watched his eyes admire and desire me. My pussy was cramping uncontrollably and it became painfully enjoyable. He stuck his finger between my parted lips. I sucked it in and kept my stare on him.

His jaw dropped open and he let out faint groan. He removed his finger from my mouth and replaced it with his plush lips. He kissed me hard, sticking his tongue in my mouth. I moaned into him. He pushed me closer to the edge of the counter with his left hand on my back, spread my legs effortlessly with his right fist and further wet his finger with my own juices.

I broke the kiss as my head fell backwards into a deep moan. I felt his eyes on my reaction, jaw dropped. And then he pushed his finger into me. That sweet finger. I tightened around him.

I shot back on the counter and pushed him away with my palms. I swallowed my craving for him, “wait David. My vagina needs a break,” I pleaded.

He scooped me up from the counter and nibbled my earlobe, “don’t worry, I’ll go nice and slow,” he cooed in my ear.

I moaned in ecstasy knowing I would lose this fight and it would be good. I relaxed all my weight into him. When he started to carry me out of the kitchen I noticed the loaded bowl on the counter, “but wait! The pancakes! And bacon!” I halfheartedly attempted to reach for the bowl.

David turned around once more grunting, “hold on miss,” and opened the fridge. In the shortest of seconds, he put all the food in the fridge while holding onto me.

He carried me feverishly to the bedroom. I bit at his neck, ran my fingers through his hair, and pressed into him with nervous, tight, need. I could feel the tip of his girth through his boxers. He was going to give me everything I needed. Hopefully that included breakfast in bed.