All she was wearing was an apron. And she had the most gorgeous arse I'd ever seen, round and pert and gloriously pink. She had the figure of a fiftie... sex goddess, from her broad shoulders to her womanly hips and fleshy legs which tapered down to exquisitely well-turned ankles. She slowly turned to face me. It was Nigella Lawson. "I've been dying to poke around your pantry, Nigella," I told her. "You think you're such a rogue, don't you Gordon?" she scolded me playfully, a naughty twinkle. I could still feel the constant pressure of the humbler on my balls, keeping them stretched out behind my legs. At least now being doubled over with my legs up against my stomach it relived the humbler and the pressure as much as was possible, but it did still pull my cock back and pointing down. Left to my own thoughts, I couldn't help but feel the draw of my teased and currently unused cock. It felt strained between my legs, a frustration that she had teased and deliberately left without. More

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