Kitchen accident

So the cake went splat. Aletta’s thighs just happened to be in the landing zone, sweet crumbs everywhere. Guy said sorry, then proved he meant it with his tongue. He started low, licking trails from ankle to knee. She giggled, then stopped when his mouth climbed higher. Her feet ended up on his lap, toes wiggling, still tacky. That was all the invitation he needed. Shorts dropped. He pushed her back, slid inside her pussy fast and slick. Both of them chased the rhythm, mouth on arch, tongue between toes, every slam making her heel tap his thigh. When he finally blew, it landed in warm stripes across her toes and the top of her foot. She dragged two fingers through the mess, licked them clean, and grinned like she’d planned the whole dessert drop herself.