Sensual encounter on the kitchen counter

It was morning. He was standing at the kitchen counter, dressed in my oversized shirt, his bare feet on the cold tiles. The aroma of coffee filled the entire apartment. I approached her from behind, wrapped my arms around her waist, and kissed her neck. She relaxed in my arms, set her coffee cup down on the counter, and leaned back. "This will keep our coffee cold," he chuckled, but his hands were already tangled in my hair. I picked him up and placed him on the marble counter. The buttons on his shirt were undone in seconds. His body was burning. The kitchen, which had been quiet moments before, was filled with passionate moans and the rhythmic sound of skin on skin. It was one of the hottest mornings of our lives.