Kelly picked up the bowls from the table and Liam followed her to the sink without being asked.

She turned the tap on and handed him the first bowl. He took it and rinsed it and handed it back and she stacked it on the drying rack.

They fell into the rhythm of it without discussion, her washing and him rinsing, standing side by side at the sink with the water running between them.

"Okay I need to know something," she said, scrubbing the inside of the second bowl without looking up.

"Go ahead."

"Do you actually have any hobbies or do you just exist." She handed him the bowl.

Liam took it and rinsed it. "What kind of question is that."

"A genuine one." She turned the tap up slightly and reached for the pan. "I’ve been thinking about it. Every time I try to picture what you do when you’re not at school I get nothing."

"I do things."

"Name one." She started working on the pan, her elbow moving in small circles.

"I work out."

"That’s maintenance not a hobby." She held out her hand for the rinsed bowl without looking and he put it in her hand and she set it on the rack.

"I read sometimes."

"What do you read." She was still on the pan, working at a spot near the handle.

He leaned against the counter beside her, his arms folded. "Textbooks mostly," he said after a moment. "Whatever else is lying around."

She looked at him sideways. "That is the least specific answer I’ve ever received."

"What do you do then."

She turned back to the pan. "I paint. Not well. But I enjoy it."

He looked at her properly. "You paint."

"Don’t make it weird."

"I’m not making it weird." He watched her scrub. "I’m just surprised."

"Why." She handed him the pan and he rinsed it under the tap.

"You don’t seem like someone who paints," he said. "Especially with your dream of becoming a pole dancer."

She took the pan back and set it on the rack. "That’s my dream not my hobby."

He handed her the last bowl. "Do you still want to do that?" he said. "Because I actually know someone who would love to hire you."

She laughed at that, short and real, her shoulders moving with it. "I’m not going to ask how you know someone like that. But honestly I’m not sure anymore."

"That’s fair," he said. "But for the record you’d be great at it. I’d pay to watch you myself and have hot sex with you on stage after."

"Shut up." She finished the bowl and stacked it and reached for the cloth on the counter, drying her hands. She handed it to Liam and he did the same.

She told him about the first painting she had tried, something that was supposed to be a landscape and ended up looking like a fever dream, gesturing with her hands as she described it, her face animated in a way it wasn’t in the classroom.

He laughed properly at the way she told it.

He told her about the first time he tried to cook anything other than rice and she turned toward him fully and laughed just as hard, her hand going to the counter to steady herself.

She was still smiling when she turned back to the sink to do the final rinse on the pan, working at a stubborn spot near the handle, leaning forward slightly over the basin.

The angle shifted.

The water redirected and hit her chest in one cold direct stream, soaking through the front of the light blue nightwear top immediately, the thin fabric going completely transparent in seconds.

It clung flat against her skin, her boobs fully visible through it, every detail of them showing through the wet material like the fabric had simply stopped existing, her nipples pink and standing out clearly.

She straightened up fast. "Holy shit." She looked down at herself. "I’m completely soaked."

Liam was already looking.

He stood with the rinsed bowl still in his hand and took a full second, his eyes moving across the wet fabric clinging to her chest, pressing into every curve, her boobs pushing against it from the inside with nothing between them and the light.

He nodded slowly. "You should probably go change. I can finish up here."

Kelly looked down at herself.

Then she looked up at him and something moved through her expression. The worried Kelly from earlier was nowhere in it.

She grabbed the hem of the soaked top and pulled it off over her head in one smooth motion.

Her boobs came free with a small bounce as the fabric cleared them, settling into place, full and heavy, the skin slightly flushed from the warmth of the kitchen. She held the wet top loosely in one hand at her side and looked at him.

Liam looked at her standing there in just her bottoms and her panties underneath, her wet hair slightly clinging to her neck from the water, her boobs right there in the kitchen light.

’There she is,’ he thought.

"You’re making it very hard to just want to talk," he said.

She tilted her head, shifting her weight to one hip. "Who said I still want to talk."

She reached past him toward the sink, her arm brushing his chest as she leaned across, and dipped her fingers into the water still running from the tap.

She brought her wet hand up and let the water run slowly down between her boobs, her eyes on his face the whole time, completely unbothered.

"Oops," she said. "Wet again."

Liam watched the water run down her chest and across her stomach and then looked at her face and the expression sitting on it and swallowed once.

He reached back and pulled his shirt off over his head and let it drop on the counter behind him.

He stepped toward her and both hands went straight to her ass, his palms spreading wide across the full curve of it through the thin fabric of her bottoms, feeling the weight and softness of it.

He pulled her slightly toward him.

"I love everything you’re doing right now," he said. "Don’t stop."

Kelly looked up at him.

She raised one finger and pressed it lightly against his lips, then drew it slowly downward across his jaw, his neck, his chest, all the way down to his waistband in one deliberate unhurried line.

She found his button.

Undid it slowly. Her eyes staying on his face the whole time, not looking down, doing it entirely by feel. Button loose. Zip down.

Then she smiled.

And she bent forward.

As she went down her boobs swayed forward with the movement, hanging heavy between her arms, their full weight shifting as she crouched lower.

Her ass pushed back behind her as she descended, round and full, the thin fabric of her bottoms stretching tight across it.

She hooked her fingers into his waistband and drew his trousers down slowly, the fabric sliding over his hips and pooling at his feet. He stepped out of them.

She pulled his boxers down after.

She looked at him for a moment from where she crouched.

Then she wrapped one hand around the base and opened her mouth and took him in.

"Hm—"

She started slow.

Her lips sealed around him, her head moving in a steady rhythm, her tongue pressing flat against the underside on every downstroke.

One hand at the base, one resting on his thigh.

Her boobs hung beneath her, swaying with every movement of her head, heavy and warm in the kitchen light, the skin of them catching the glow on every forward sway.

Liam put his hand on her head.

She went a little deeper and the sound that came from her was low and muffled and deliberate.

"Mm—"

She worked steadily. Her pace entirely her own, not adjusting for the pressure of his hand, just doing exactly what she had decided to do.

She pulled back slowly, lips dragging the full length of him, and went back down. Unhurried. Each movement complete before the next one started.

Her boobs swayed beneath her continuously with the rhythm, their weight shifting forward and back, the skin of them warm and flushed.

Her ass stayed pushed back behind her, her panties stretched across it.

Then she changed.

Her tongue shifted from the flat drag to something at the top of each upstroke, a quick specific flick right at the head, arriving at the exact moment he had started to settle into the previous rhythm.

His jaw tightened.

She went back to the first thing. Then switched again without warning.

Back and forth between the two. Alternating. No pattern to the switching, just whenever she decided.

’This is new,’ he thought, his hand pressing into her hair. ’She knows exactly what she’s doing and she’s enjoying every second of it.’

She felt his grip tighten and did both things in quick succession, the drag and then immediately the flick, and a sound left him that he hadn’t planned.

"Tch—"

"Mm—" The sound from her was quiet and satisfied and completely muffled and she kept going.

She shifted her weight slightly on her heels and the new angle brought something different with it and she found it and stayed on it, her head moving steadily, her hand working with her mouth in one continuous motion.

Her boobs swayed with the shift in her position, their weight moving differently from the new angle, forward and then hanging free again with each movement.

His free hand went flat against the counter beside him.

She pulled back to the head and did something specific with her tongue, circling and then pressing at a particular point, that arrived without warning and landed with the full weight of something that had been thought about carefully.

"Kelly—"

She didn’t stop.

She went through it again. Same sequence. Her boobs swaying beneath her with every movement, her ass behind her, the thin fabric doing nothing to contain the full shape of it, the curve of it shifting slightly each time she adjusted her position.

Liam stood with his hand in her hair and his other hand flat on the counter and looked down at her and thought about nothing useful at all.

She kept going. Building the pace gradually, still not fast, just more of everything than it had been a minute ago. Each movement carrying more weight, the two patterns alternating faster now, less time between the switches.

His grip in her hair tightened.

She made the satisfied sound around him a second time.

He could feel it building. That familiar pressure climbing steadily with every stroke, her mouth and her hand working without any gap between them.

She felt it too. She slowed deliberately, pulling everything back, making him come away from the edge before she built it back up again. Slower. Then faster. Then slower again.

’She is absolutely doing this on purpose,’ he thought. ’Every single part of it.’

She did it a third time. Built him up and pulled back, her pace dropping, her movements going long and unhurried again, and he exhaled hard through his nose.

She looked up at him from where she knelt, her boobs hanging forward between her arms, her hair falling around her face, her eyes finding his from below with a completely calm and knowing expression.

He looked back down at her.

She held it for a moment.

Then she went back down and this time she didn’t slow. She kept the pace where it was and kept both patterns going and didn’t stop for anything.

His hand pressed down into her hair.

Her boobs swayed continuously beneath her, heavy and warm, her ass still pushed back, the whole of her completely committed to what she was doing.

It built fast once she decided not to stop it. That tight pressure climbing without interruption, her mouth and her hand consistent and relentless, and then it arrived all at once.

He came.

His hand pulled her hair taut, his other hand pressing flat against the counter, a low rough sound leaving him through his teeth. She stayed where she was, taking all of it, her throat working, swallowing once and then again.

When it was done she pulled back slowly and sat back on her heels and looked up at him.

Her lips were swollen. Her hair was thoroughly undone. Her boobs sat full and warm in the kitchen light, still slightly moving from the rhythm, her skin flushed all the way down her chest.

She reached up and wiped the corner of her mouth with two fingers, unhurried, still looking at him.

"You know what I said earlier?" she said.

Liam looked at her. "About me learning to cook?"

She blushed. The color rose in her face fast and she shook her head. "No." A pause. "About fucking you on the floor."

"Yeah," Liam said. "I know."

She smiled.