Kinky in the kitchen

You know Krystal. You know she’s got a dirty mind. Especially in the kitchen. Those weird gadgets and buttons seem to set her off every damn time. She keeps glancing at the standing mixer, its thick steel shaft gleaming, while she bites her lip like she wants to climb the countertop and give it a test drive herself. Next to it sits the suction-sealed canning jars—her favorite kind—and she can’t stop picturing how they’d feel clamped around her breasts, sucking her nipples until she moans. Her gaze wanders down to the rolling pin she was supposed to use for pie crust. She swallows, fingers trailing the smooth, heavy wood, already measuring how deep it might fit between her thighs if she lay back right here with her legs open. Even the fridge light flicks on as she opens the door, and for a second she wonders what it would feel like shining straight into her wet pussy while she bends over, pretending to reach for butter but really just giving the room a show. Yeah, cooking’s not the first thing on Krystal’s mind in this room.