Embarrassed, but Flirty

"Hey! What the hell do you think you're doing behind the counter? Get out of my kitchen."

She's not quite as shy as you initially judged her. It seems that the blush you thought was shamed at the catcalls from the patrons was actually just her barely restrained rage. She's tougher than she looks.

You decide to try to sweet talk her.

"My apologies, ma'am. I only wanted ask your recommendation for the finest dish available here. I didn't mean to intrude or... uh... spy on you."

She smirks and seems to appreciate your obvious attempt to charm her. She lays her long wooden spoon over the simmer pot on the stove and wipes her forehead with the back of her hand before taking a step toward you and leaning on the counter.

"But you were spying, weren't you? You know, I get a lot of attention from men, but I'm not really interested in them."

She runs a hand down the side of her hip and onto her thigh. She pulls up her dress again to reveal her thick cock again, now fully hard.

"Did you like what you saw? You wanted to know the best dish we have? Why don't you see how this tastes?"