Apron Only Cooking

The café finally quieted as Mani turned the lock on the door, sealing the bustling energy of the day behind them. He stretched his arms, a tired but satisfied smile on his face. Another busy day had passed, and they had handled it just as well as always. But as they walked home, Mocha noticed something strange. Normally, Mani would sneak glances at her as she worked—his eyes often lingering on her swaying hips or plump butt when he thought she wasn't looking. It was one of his adorable little habits, something that always made her smile. Today, though, he hadn't looked at her once. He'd been so caught up in the endless rush of customers that he hadn't had a moment to admire her.

Mocha smirked to herself, her tail flicking playfully. "Poor thing," she thought. "He's been working so hard, he hasn't had time to appreciate the view. I'll just have to make sure he gets an eyeful tonight."

Once they arrived at their cozy home, Mani went straight to the kitchen, likely planning to grab a quick snack before bed. Mocha, however, had other plans. She dropped her bag on the counter and leaned against the doorway, watching him with a mischievous glint in her red eyes.

"Honey," she said sweetly, "why don't you let me cook tonight? You've worked hard enough."

Mani looked up, a little surprised. "Are you sure? I can help if you—"

"Nope!" Mocha interrupted, wagging a playful finger at him. "Go sit down and relax. I'll handle everything."

He smiled, his expression softening. "Alright. Thanks, Mocha."

As Mani headed for the living room, Mocha slipped away to their bedroom. She quickly stripped out of her café clothes, her massive curves bouncing with every movement, and grabbed a frilly apron from the closet. She tied it around her neck and waist, letting it drape over her front. It was just large enough to cover the center of her body, leaving her hips, thighs, and most of her chest completely exposed. Her breasts spilled over the top, straining against the fabric, while the hem barely skimmed the tops of her thick thighs.

Mocha glanced at herself in the mirror, adjusting the apron slightly. "Perfect," she murmured, her red lips curling into a smile. "He won't know what hit him."

She walked back into the kitchen with a confident sway, her tail flicking lazily behind her. Mani was seated at the dining table, scrolling through his phone. The moment he looked up, his jaw nearly hit the floor.

"M-Mocha!" he stammered, his face turning as red as her hair.

"What?" she asked innocently, striding into the room. "I thought I'd dress comfortably while I cook."

Mani's eyes darted away, his cheeks burning. The apron left little to the imagination, her wide hips and plump butt fully on display. Her chest, as always, was impossible to ignore, the top of the apron barely managing to contain her massive breasts.

"You're… you're practically naked!" Mani managed, his voice cracking.

Mocha tilted her head, pretending to be confused. "Practically? Honey, I am naked. This is just an apron." She spun around slowly, giving him a full view of her bare back and tail. "Don't you like it?"

Mani covered his face with his hands. "I-I—uh—Mocha, this is…!"

"Relax, honey," she said with a chuckle, turning back toward the stove. "I'm just cooking for you. No harm in making things… interesting."

As she prepared dinner, Mocha made sure to move in ways that drew his attention. When she reached for a spice jar on a high shelf, she stretched, causing her breasts to bounce enticingly. When she bent down to check the oven, her plump butt jiggled just enough to send his mind spinning. Mani tried to focus on anything else, but it was impossible. Mocha knew exactly what she was doing, and she was loving every second of it.

"Honey," she called over her shoulder, her tone sweet but teasing, "could you pass me the salt? It's just behind you."

Mani gulped, standing up quickly to grab it. As he walked toward her, Mocha turned to face him, her red eyes gleaming with mischief. "Thanks," she said, leaning in to take the salt from his hand. The movement pressed her chest against his arm, and Mani froze, his face growing even redder.

"You're so tense," Mocha teased, stepping back with a grin. "You should really learn to relax."

After what felt like an eternity, dinner was finally ready. Mocha placed a steaming plate of food in front of Mani, her smile warm and inviting. "Here you go, honey. Hope you're hungry."

"T-thanks," Mani said, his eyes fixed on the plate.

Mocha sat across from him, resting her chin on her hand as she watched him eat. Her apron shifted slightly, revealing more of her cleavage. "How is it?" she asked, her voice dripping with curiosity.

"It's… really good," Mani replied, trying not to meet her gaze.

"Good," Mocha said. "Because you're going to need your energy."

Before Mani could respond, Mocha stood up and untied her apron. She let it fall to the floor, leaving her completely naked. Mani's fork clattered onto his plate as his eyes widened in shock.

"Mocha!" he exclaimed, his voice cracking.

"Honey," she said, her voice low and sultry, "you didn't drink anything with your meal."

"I-I'm fine!" Mani stammered, fumbling for his water glass.

Mocha crossed her arms, her massive chest lifting slightly as she smirked. "Oh, no. I didn't give you a drink for a reason." She walked over to him, her hooves clicking softly on the floor. "If you're thirsty, you know what to do."

Mani's face burned as Mocha gently pulled him to his feet. "You don't have to—"

"Shh," she interrupted, placing a finger on his lips. "You've been working so hard, honey. Let me take care of you."

Before he could protest further, she guided him to the couch and pulled him onto her lap. She cupped one of her massive breasts, her red eyes locking onto his. "Go on," she murmured.

Mani hesitated but eventually leaned forward, his lips closing around her nipple. Warm, sweet milk began to flow into his mouth, and he swallowed instinctively. Mocha moaned softly, her hands stroking his hair as she pressed him closer.

"That's it," she whispered, her voice tinged with pleasure. "Drink up, honey."

Mani's hands rested on her hips as he nursed from her, the milk flowing steadily. Mocha's tail swished behind her, her breathing growing heavier. "You're so good at this," she cooed. "I could do this all night."

Minutes stretched into what felt like hours, and by the time she finally pulled him away, Mani was dazed, his lips glistening with milk. Mocha smiled down at him, her expression full of affection. "Feel better?" she asked.

He nodded, though his face was still bright red. "Y-yeah… thanks."

Mocha kissed his forehead. "Good. Because you're not going to bed thirsty, honey. Not on my watch."