My Hot Chef Pleases Me 1.

Tanesha's POV.

“Touch me please,” I ordered, spreading my legs wider on the kitchen island.

He nodded vigorously, burying his face in between my legs. He exhaled on my folds, making my breath hitch.

The aroma of ramen and juice filled the air, reminding me of how wrong this was to do in the kitchen. But my body was too needy to stop.

His hands firmly held on to either side of my thighs, his tongue moving up and down my core, making me drip even more.

I hummed softly, arching my hips forward as he circled around my clit. He sucked my clit really hard, the feeling making my brain experiencing short–circuits.

And then he moved back to gliding up and down my slits. The feel of that slick tongue pleasuring made me bite hard on my lips, trying to fight back my moan.

If my husband found out I was getting pleasured by our chef instead of supervising him, I’d lose my life. That was one of the disadvantages of getting married to one of the wealthiest Mafia lords in the city.

Their punishment for the slightest sin was death.

But how could I stop myself when this chef was everything I'd always wanted?

In my two years of being married to Callendon, he'd never made me orgasm. He had sex with me solely for the purpose of cumming. Once he finished, he didn't care about my cunt anymore.

I'd spent nights talking to him about this, reminding him that I needed to finish too. But he paid no attention to me.

“You’re here to please me. Not the other way round.” He'd said.

So I started seeking out pleasure elsewhere. Every time Cain–the chef–touched me, I hated myself. I wished I could be what Callendon wanted–a faithful, understanding, pleasing wife.

But I wasn’t.

I was a needy wife who needed to experience orgasm at least three times in four days. I needed someone to fill in and there was Cain.

The man who was supposed to be cooking dishes for me and my husband. I'd admired those thick fingers for days, wondering if they could do more than chopping vegetables.

Turns out, those fingers could do a lot more.

As if on cue, he pushed two fingers into my entrance without warning, making a shuddery breath escape my lips. He curled the fingers inside me, hitting my sweet spot. A helpless sound escaped my lips, my hands clutching onto the cabinet like it was my lifeline.

Beads of sweat rolled down my spine, my inner walls spasming from Cain's fingers. My cunt dripped even more, my nipples rubbing against the silky fabric of my top, making it all the more teasing.

Fuck.

This felt so good.

“Faster,” I demanded and he increased tempo, moving at a new pace that had me gasping more often.

I lifted a hand to my blouse, slipping my hand inside as I slowly fondled myself. I'd been dying to have Cain touch me all day. And now that he was finally doing it, I wanted us to remain like this for at least the next hour.

I pinched my own nipples, breathy moans now escaping my lips as he kept at his pace. The sound of his fingers thrusting into me now echoing through the room. His pace increased, making my breathing ragged.

“Ca–Cain–Shit!” I cried in the softest tone possible as my folds exploded with my hot juice.

My entire body trembled, my eyes seeing literal stars for some seconds. Cain didn't give me the chance to recover, he quickly unbuckled himself, slipping himself into me. His thick, veiny cock stretched me, making a juicy moan escape my lips.

“Madame, you're so tight,” He whispered in my ears, his words a reminder of how unfaithful this was.

I felt a mix of guilt and pleasure as he began pushing his hip back and forth, making my folds burn with heat.

I groaned into the air, forgetting for a moment that I was in the kitchen. Cain's strokes made every part of my body come alive. I shuddered from every stroke, clenching tightly around his thick, delicious length of pleasure.

But then, in the euphoria of my pleasure, I heard footsteps. Cain didn't stop, his eye focus fixated on our joining.

I discarded the idea.

It wasn’t possible that Callendon would come down here. I returned my focus to the thick length pushing through me, my slits burning from his furious thrusts.

But then I heard footsteps again. The sounds of his soles creaking down the stairs.

“Tanesha? Where are you?” Callendon’s dark voice ran through the space, making my body stiffen.

Cain’s eyes widened, his strokes stopping immediately.

Shit.

Callendon was standing out there, and our chef was inside me.

Fuck.

“Tanesha?” Callendon called out again, the irritation in his tone impossible to miss.

I wanted to respond but the words hung at my throat. The last thing I wanted was for him to find me here, with Cain’s cock inside me.

“Pull out right now!” I whisper-yelled, gently tapping Cain’s shoulders.

He did that immediately, slipping himself into his pants while I pulled on the ends of my dress with shaky hands.

But before I could finish what I was doing, the door to the kitchen swung open.