The aroma of sautéed garlic and onion filled the kitchen. I, in my husband’s big, strong body, was behind him, fucking him hard while holding the spatula in one hand.
My husband (now in my delicate, curvy body) was only wearing a white apron that barely covered anything. He was bent over the counter, stirring the pan with one hand while moaning like a whore every time I thrust into him.
“Mmm… you see, honey?” I groaned with his deep, masculine voice, pounding him slow but powerful. “This is exactly what you deserve for saying that ‘women belong in the kitchen’.”
He let out a high-pitched moan, my own voice coming out of his mouth as his tits bounced under the apron.
“You said my place was here, right?” I continued, gripping his hips and giving him a hard slap on the ass. “That women should cook, clean, and spread their legs when their tired husband gets home. Well, look at you now… cooking dinner while I fuck you with your own cock.”
He tried to respond, but only a broken moan came out as I pushed deeper inside him.
“This is how it feels, huh? Being the little wife of the house.”
I suddenly turned him around, pushed him down to his knees in front of me, and slapped my huge cock (his old cock) right against his face.
“Now be a good girl and help me with this,” I said with a mocking smile. “In return, I’ll help you too, love. Go ahead and eat this piece of meat… savor it, it’s your favorite…”
“Open it,” I ordered.
He obeyed instantly. He stuck out his tongue and took my cock into his mouth, sucking eagerly while I held the spatula and continued stirring the pan.
He (in my body) looked up at me with eyes glassy from pleasure and shame. He had always loved blowjobs a lot. Now that I was the one receiving one, I perfectly understood why.
“Just like that… nice and deep,” I moaned, grabbing him by the hair (my own long hair). “While I finish up here. You just focus on sucking like the good wife you always wanted me to be.”
He moaned around my cock, saliva running down his chin, his eyes watery with pleasure. His knees trembled on the kitchen floor.
“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” I kept teasing while I cooked. “For me to be in the kitchen all day. Well, now I’m here… cooking and fucking you at the same time. Happy?”
I gave him a few more deep thrusts into his mouth, then lifted him up, turned him back against the counter, and penetrated him from behind even harder, his breasts bouncing wildly with every thrust.
“Pay attention to the sauce… don’t let it burn,” I ordered between grunts. “And squeeze that little ass. I want you to feel every inch while I finish making your favorite dinner.”
My husband, now turned into my obedient little wife, could only moan and obey — completely humiliated and aroused — while I finished cooking with his body and his cock buried deep inside him.
The lesson had been made more than clear.
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