Koda Monroe Fucks Stepson Hard in Kitchen

Koda Monroe and her stepson ended up in the kitchen that afternoon, and honestly, that Koda Monroe and stepson moment in the kitchen started out so innocently with me just reaching for a glass above the sink, but the second I felt his chest press against my back to grab it for me, something just shifted between us, and I could feel the heat radiating off his body as he lingered there way longer than necessary, his breath warm on my neck, and I remember my hand tightening on the counter edge because I knew exactly where this was heading, and when I turned around to face him, his eyes were already dark with that hungry look that made my knees feel weak, and without a word he pushed me back against the fridge, the cool metal contrasting with the fire spreading through my core, and his mouth found mine in this desperate, messy kiss that tasted like the coffee he’d been drinking, and I couldn’t help the moan that escaped because his hands were already sliding up my thighs under my sundress, bunching the fabric around my hips, and I reached down to unbuckle his jeans, my fingers fumbling with the button in my rush to feel him, and he let out this low growl when I finally wrapped my hand around him, stroking him slowly before he grabbed my hips and spun me around, bending me over the kitchen island, and I gripped the marble edge so hard my knuckles went white as he thrust into me from behind, filling me completely in one smooth motion, and the sound of our bodies slapping together echoed off the tiles, each impact sending shockwaves through me, and I could feel every inch of him as he pounded into me harder, his fingers digging into my hips, pulling me back to meet each thrust, and I was so lost in the sensation, the wetness between my legs making everything slick and easy, that I barely registered the plates rattling in the cabinet above us, and when his hand snaked around to rub my clit in tight circles, I completely unraveled, crying out his name as my whole body clenched around him, and he followed right after, burying himself deep with a shuddering groan, and we stayed like that for a moment, panting and sweaty, the air thick with the smell of sex and something cooking forgotten on the stove, before he pulled out slowly and turned me around to kiss me again, softer this time, and I just laughed breathlessly, knowing we’d never look at that kitchen the same way again.