Andrew⠀—⠀079

⠀ The late afternoon sun bleeds through the dust-streaked blinds of the apartment, casting long, golden-orange streaks across the cluttered living space.

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Outside, the distant, bustling hum of Robloxia's corporate-dominated streets drones on, but inside the cramped kitchen, the atmosphere is heavy, thick, and suffocatingly warm.

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What had started as a simple, grounding attempt at a domestic evening—just two close friends attempting to bake a simple cake and boil a pot of mashed potatoes after a grueling week—has entirely dissolved into something far more... visceral.

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The oven hums rhythmically in the background, its internal heating coil glowing bright orange as the cake batter slowly rises inside. ⠀

Over on the stovetop, a dented metal pot filled with salted water and cubed potatoes comes to a steady, rolling boil, sending small wisps of steam floating up toward the ceiling.

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None of that matters anymore.

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Your lower garments have long since been pulled down, discarded in a crumpled pile on the dark hardwood floor beneath you.

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You are pressed face-front against the edge of the laminate kitchen counter, your hips pinned firm, your thighs trembling uncontrollably as if your legs are on the verge of completely giving out under the sheer sensory overload.

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Despite his lean, somewhat stocky build and his usual exhaustion from spending endless hours hunched over his programming desk, Andrew holds you in place with unflinching firmness.

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His large, rough hands map the curves of your waist, fingers digging firmly into your skin to anchor your weight completely against his frame.

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His braided dreadlocks hang loosely over his shoulders, swaying with every measured movement of his hips. His glasses sit slightly askew on the bridge of his nose, catching the dim orange light of the fading sunset.

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His hips move behind you with slow, deliberate, agonizing precision.

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Each forward thrust buries him deep into your tight, slick warmth, producing a wet, shameless sound that echoes loudly off the kitchen tiles and counter surfaces. ⠀

Down below, thick streams of white semen—from a previous climax he barely paused after—drip down your inner thighs, pooling slowly onto the wooden floorboards between your shaking feet. ⠀

Andrew buries his face low into the crook of your neck, his warm breath fanning across your flushed skin. A quiet, deep, breathless groan escapes from his throat as his thick shaft seats itself all the way inside you once more.

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You can feel every single millimeter of him. ⠀

You feel the intense, burning sensation of his hot seed filling you to absolute capacity, surging so deeply into your core that it leaks out past his seal, trickling hot and wet down the insides of your legs. ⠀

Slowly, almost lazily, Andrew pulls his cock back out, letting his tip hover right at the entrance. ⠀

The sudden release of pressure causes even more of his hot fluid to spill freely out of your overfilled opening, dripping heavily onto the floor below.

⠀ Through the smudge of his glasses, his heavy-lidded eyes track the glisten of the mess you've made together. ⠀

Combined with the sweet, rising scent of the baking cake in the oven and the yeasty aroma of boiling starch, the sight of you pinned helplessly against the kitchen counter looks like a sweet, private feast prepared exclusively for him. ⠀ The pot of potatoes continues to bubble frantically. ⠀ The cake in the oven continues to bake. ⠀ Andrew couldn't care less if the whole place burned down right now. ⠀ The only thing occupying his tired, single-minded focus is the person trembling beneath his hands. ⠀ With a low, gravelly hum in his chest, one of his large, calloused hands shifts down from your waist to grip the soft cheek of your ass, gently pulling you open to inspect your slick, dilated entrance dripping with his release. ⠀ He leans his head forward, pressing a soft, lingering kiss against the side of your neck, his lips rough and warm against your sensitive skin.

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"You're doing so good for me..." ⠀ Andrew murmurs in his mid-low, raspy voice, his tone blunt yet dripping with uncharacteristic warmth and praise. ⠀ "Just like that... stay right there." ⠀

Sparing no time, he reaches down with his free hand and hooks his fingers beneath your knee, slowly hoisting one of your legs up and resting your thigh over his hip. ⠀ The shift in angle opens your lower body up completely to him, exposing your slick, sensitive core even further.

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"Relax for me... Just let me back in..."

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Without waiting for a verbal answer, Andrew gently guides his heavy, slick tip back against your dripping entrance. ⠀ Even though he just came inside you moments ago, his dick remains hard and rigid in his grip. He pushes forward slowly, sinking back into your wet depth inch by agonizing inch. ⠀ The renewed intrusion forces the pool of fresh semen trapped inside your walls to overflow once again, squelching softly as he completely fills you back up to the hilt, burying his head back into your neck with a deep, shuddering sigh.

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