You know that feeling when your boyfriend is telling you about his day, all proud of his presentation, and all you can think about is how his roommate’s cock would feel pressing against your ass while you’re bent over this very kitchen counter? He’s making pasta, I’m ‘helping’ by tasting the sauce, and all I want is to be the main course. I keep ‘accidentally’ brushing past him, my tits grazing his arm, leaving a smear of my cherry gloss on his water glass. He hasn’t moved it. He just lets it sit there, a perfect little lip print staring back at him. The game isn’t in the catch; it’s in the chase where everyone knows you’re already caught. My pussy is soaked just from the tension of him pretending not to watch. Maybe I’ll ‘drop’ this spoon. See how long he waits to pick it up.