There is nothing like sharing the kitchen and its duties with another person, especially if that person is a hunky American with the tendency to pinch my bottom as he walks past.
“Right, I ’ve finished those sandwiches. ” He smiles, reaching out a hand and fondling my naked bottom under the edge of my long, white T-shirt.
“Excellent, I do believe that ’s everything then; ” I look up at the clock. “time I was getting dressed. ”
Mike pulls an overly sad face, “Aww, do you gotta? ” He whines, his American drawl pronounced.
“Yes, I gotta. ” I mimic his intonation and pinch his cheek in jest. He reaches round me, and grabs a buttock in each hand, he presses his lips down on mine with so much passionate pressure it makes me gasp for air when our lips finally part.
“I still gotta. ” I smile, “But now I wish I could stay here all night with you. ”
“We can have some fun at the party still. ” he says, hands casually resting on my waist as he leans in close to my ear. “Just make sure you wear a skirt and no panties and we ’ll have lots of fun. ”
“Promise? ” I ask, my heart thudding, my cheeks flushed.