I’m at her place, huge dining table, her parents serving chicken. She’s sweet as fuck—blouse, mini skirt barely covering her pussy, ponytail. But she’s got my dick in her hand under the tablecloth, stroking hard, fingers wet with spit. Table’s massive, hiding her filthy work. Her parents yammer, clueless, while she jerks me, nails on my balls. I cum like a fucking hose, soaking her hand, some hitting her thigh. I bite my lip, shaking as she milks me dry.
They clear plates, head to the kitchen—dishes clanging. She licks her cum-soaked fingers like ice cream, slow and nasty. “Fuck, your cum’s good,” she purrs, eyes burning. “Under the table,” she orders, skirt up, no panties, pussy dripping. I dive under, tongue on her clit, sucking hard. She tastes like pure fuck.
She moans, too loud. “Honey, is everything alright?” her mom calls. She pulls my chair closer, legs locking my head. “Yeah! Just loving this dessert, mom,” she says, quivering. “Where is he?” “Bathroom break,” she lies, legs tightening. The scare makes me feral—nearly biting her clit, fingers pounding her cunt. She cums hard, pussy pulsing, soaking my face, napkin muffling her scream.
I crawl out, face wet, dick hard. She’s flushed, smiling sweet. “You’re fucking trouble,” I whisper.
And the night didn't end there.
RedQuill