Cooking breakfast

I promised Elizabeth I would make it up to her by fixing breakfast and went into the bathroom to do my thing. I took a quick shower, brushed the morning taste off my teeth, slipped on some clothes, and rejoined the two young women in my kitchen.

Since we had burned a lot of calories the previous night, I went the extra mile with breakfast: spinach omelets, hot tea with honey, sliced grapefruit, and lemon zest pancakes. I’m no chef, but I can typically put a smile on someone’s face when I really put effort into a meal. I’d cooked for all five of my female buddies a few times in the past and they all considered it a special treat. This morning the three of us wolfed down the food.

Stephanie popped the last bite of pancake into her mouth and commented that it was her new favorite type of pancake, even better than her little sister’s “chocolate chip” recipe.

Elizabeth’s face brightened at the word “chocolate.”

“I just remembered!” she laughed. “We never made s’mores last night! I brought everything for them, but with everything that happened we forgot about it!”

Me and Stephanie were a bit taken aback by her sudden, **** enthusiasm. I guess the girl was really craving s’mores, because she didn’t let the matter drop until I had a fire going in the fireplace and we were roasting marshmallows.

I felt a prickling of sweat on the back of my neck and thought to myself, this is why you don’t make s’mores during the day. I was just glad it was still pretty early, and we weren’t experiencing the full fury of the California sun, coupled with the heat from the fire. Still, not wanting to spoil the fun with a lot of complaining, I kept my mouth shut and enjoyed the girls’ company.

“It’s kind of hot,” Elizabeth observed, reading my mind. “Maybe we should just take off our shirts.”

So that was why she was so anxious to make s’mores. I stifled a laugh at the obviousness of her ploy and pulled off my shirt with exaggerated relief:

“Ahh, so much better.”

Seeing that I was playing along with her little game, Elizabeth followed my lead, tugging off her tank top to reveal her breasts, contained within a plain beige bra. Not the flashiest of lingerie, but there was no bra on earth that could make the enormous tits on that tiny girl look less than jaw-dropping.

Stephanie went next, revealing her own curvaceous chest encased in a lacy green demi bra.

“Now my jeans are too hot!” Elizabeth sighed with mock sadness, peeling her jeans down past those Boticelli hips and over her juicy ass. Her bikini underwear was nearly transparent, and the shadow of the dark curls beneath brought me to full hardness before her pants even touched the ground.

Stephanie and I took our pants off as well, looking to our friend for the next move. “Okay, I think I’m good now,” Elizabeth said. I made a pouty face at that, prompting her to add, “Except my boobs are getting all sweaty in this fucking bra!”

She tossed her bra at me and I openly stared. Another bra landed in my lap and I looked over to see that Stephanie was also topless. I quietly whispered my thanks to the universe that had allowed this to happen.

Elizabeth continued to play innocent, skewering two marshmallows on a stick and leaning towards the fire, her breasts swaying as she roasted her treat. She glanced back over her shoulder and asked, “Stephanie, would you like the first one?”

Stephanie nodded, disarmed by the teasing tone of her friend’s voice. Elizabeth took the marshmallows away from the fire and poked them with her finger, testing the temperature of their molten gooey centers. The naughty gleam in her eye was unmistakable...