I stood at the basin, my hands moving mechanically through the water as I washed the vegetables, but my mind—my eyes—were entirely on Gabriela. The way her bathrobe clung to her body, the fabric stretched taut over her full, round ass, swaying slightly as she stirred whatever was simmering on the stove.
The robe rode up just enough to tease the shadow between her thighs, the dark curls of her pussy peeking out whenever she shifted. Fuck.
The sight of her—so natural, so unaware—made my cock throb painfully against my pants. I could almost smell her—the warm, musky scent of her skin, the faint sweat lingering from her shower, the heat radiating off her body.
I imagined bending her over the counter, hiking up that flimsy robe, and burying myself in her right then and there. The thought alone made my pulse pound in my ears, my fingers tightening around the vegetable I was washing.
