Preparing dinner

The knives gleam under the bright kitchen lights, those long blades catching her eye as she works beside me at the counter. My blonde hair falls forward when I lean in, the brunette at my side reaching for the same vegetable we need to slice. Heat presses between us the instant our hands brush. Her tits brush my arm and I feel the weight through her thin top. She lingers with the blade, pressing the flat side against my wrist, teasing. I turn just enough that the front of my shirt dips, my big breasts nearly spilling free, and her lips part at the view. Soon the dinner prep is forgotten. She pulls me into the corner of the counter, tongue meeting mine, fingers already sliding beneath my waistband. I bite her lower lip, push my thigh between hers, and let the knife rest harmlessly on the cutting board while we forget the meal entirely.