Cooking Up An Anal Surprise

Siri Dahl stands bare-assed in the kitchen, apron barely covering her tits, phone glued to her ear while she flips the chicken. "Yeah, he thinks I left for a spin class—wait till he walks in and finds me like this," she laughs to her friend. She kills the call, cranks the radio, and starts dicing onions like this is just another Tuesday night surprise for her husband—home early, stepson out at band practice. Door clicks open. Footsteps. "Babe!" she shouts, knife still in hand. "Get changed and come in here—I got something you’ll like." Except it’s not babe walking down the hall. It’s Ricky, dead-stopped in the doorway, eyes glued to the pale curves of her ass peeking out under that flimsy apron. She feels the stare, spins around. Face goes red, hands fly to cover what they can. "Shit—Ricky? I thought you had practice!" Turns out practice is tomorrow, hubby’s early day is tomorrow, and right now it’s just the two of them staring at each other with way too much skin showing. "This stays between us, got it?" she hisses, voice shaky. Ricky’s smirk says dinner can wait—he’s already cooking up another kind of appetite.