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What made me blush and yearn for more was her look in the kitchen.
Sometimes, she would wear nothing but a white apron, preparing meals for me like that, naked.
The exposed spine had beautiful lines, rising and falling slightly with the chopping action, the full, rounded buttocks faintly visible under the apron's hem.
When she turned around carrying steaming dishes, the astonishing fullness on her chest would also sway gently with her steps, her pink nipples brushing lightly against the fabric.
The aroma of food mixed with the unique scent of her high-end perfume and body scent often made me unable to hold back before the meal even started, hugging her from behind, burying my face in her warm neck, and then... the kitchen became another battlefield for us.
I pressed her against the counter, lifted the apron, and entered her from behind in one smooth thrust. Her full breasts pressed against the cold surface as I pounded into her, the wet slapping sounds mixing with her soft moans. When I climaxed, I flooded her womb with thick, heavy ropes of hot cum, pumping load after load until her lower belly visibly swelled and felt heavy. As I pulled out, a massive gush of creamy white semen erupted from her pussy, thick streams cascading down her thighs and pooling on the kitchen floor in messy puddles while her body trembled from the intense creampie.
Our sex became completely without taboos, anytime, anywhere; as long as I revealed even a trace of a thought, or just a suggestive glance, Kafka seemed to be able to catch it immediately.
She would put down everything in her hands and actively accommodate me with that languid and bewitching smile.
On the courtyard lawn, the afternoon sun spilled over our intertwined bodies through the leaves. I laid her down on the soft grass and took her in missionary, her legs wrapped around my waist as I thrust deep. Her full breasts bounced with every powerful stroke, pink nipples hard and sensitive. When I came, I buried myself to the hilt and unleashed a massive creampie, thick jets of cum blasting into her womb until her belly bulged noticeably. Pulling out, the excess semen poured out in heavy, continuous streams, running down her ass and soaking the grass beneath her.
On the soft carpet in the living room, the television played programs that no one was watching, only our moans echoed. She rode me reverse cowgirl, her plump ass rippling as she slammed down, her tight pussy swallowing every inch. I reached around to rub her clit until she squirted, then filled her with another huge load, her belly swelling as cum overflowed and dripped onto my groin in thick white rivulets.
On the balcony filled with moonlight, the night breeze blew through her sweat-dampened hair. I took her standing against the railing, one leg lifted high, pounding into her from the front. Her pink nipples glistened with sweat as her breasts bounced. I came hard, flooding her again until semen gushed out around my cock and ran down her long legs in glossy streams.
In the steam-filled bathroom, the water washed over our tightly pressed skin. I pressed her against the tiled wall and fucked her from behind while the shower rained down. Her moans echoed off the walls as I filled her womb once more, the hot water mixing with the thick cum that overflowed and streamed down her thighs.
Every corner was left with the traces of our indulgent lovemaking.
Any posture or position I could think of, or even those I felt were a bit shameful myself, Kafka cooperated to the utmost, and would even actively guide me to try more.
She seemed to know my body like the back of her hand, always finding the angle and rhythm that made me most comfortable, and always able to push pleasure to a higher wave when I was about to climb to the peak, with a glance, a moan, or an unexpected little movement.
She would even tolerate those "ludicrous" jokes and requests of mine.
Sometimes, I would deliberately say something vulgar, teasing, and she never took offense; sometimes she would give me a reproachful white glance, saying "bad guy" with those purple eyes, and sometimes even respond to me in a more "ludicrous" way, proving with actions that she "understood" better than I did.
I remember one time, when we were intensely entangled and about to reach the peak together, I panted, carrying a trace of tentative and irrepressible desire, whispering in her ear: "Kafka... I... I want to... ejaculate inside... is that okay?"
I thought she would hesitate, or at least jokingly tease me.
But unexpectedly, she just panted slightly, her face flushed with passion, and then smiled gently at the corner of her mouth, the smile filled with infinite indulgence and love.
She looked at me deeply with those misty purple eyes, her voice filled with ultimate temptation:
"Of course, my little Trailblazer."
She even actively lifted her waist, as if welcoming my release, adding in a breathy voice:
"All... shoot it all in."
At that moment, I could no longer hold back, releasing all the scorching heat I had accumulated for a long time into the depths of her warm, tight body.
Thick, rope after heavy rope of hot, sticky cum blasted straight into her womb in powerful jets, flooding her completely. Her flat belly visibly swelled and rounded from the sheer volume of semen being pumped inside, becoming noticeably fuller and heavier with every spurt. I kept thrusting through my climax, forcing even more cum deep into her until it had nowhere left to go and began leaking out around my shaft.
When I finally pulled out, a massive flood of thick white cum immediately erupted from her freshly fucked pussy. The creamy load gushed out in heavy, continuous streams, mixed with her juices, pouring down her thighs in glossy rivers and forming large, obscene puddles on the floor. Her slightly swollen belly slowly deflated as the excess semen kept leaking out in thick, pulsing waves, coating her perfect skin and dripping all the way to her knees. The sight of Kafka's pussy overflowing with my cum was incredibly lewd — the puffy lips parted slightly, unable to contain the massive creampie I had just dumped inside her.
This period, was like an unreal, sweet, and cloying beautiful dream.
Kafka, with her body and actions, wove a tender trap that made me indulge in it, unable to pull myself out.
This happiness came so easily and directly, even carrying a sense of undeniable fate, making me almost forget the turmoil of the outside world, forget those unsolved mysteries and hidden crises, wanting only to remain intoxicated in this hot and lingering time that belonged only to her and me.