17 May, 17
Read & Cum
Erotic story: The dinner
The smooth fabric of my underwear acts as an intensifier for the touch of his finger on my clit and for a moment I lose control of my body. A jerk and silent moan are the result. “Are you alright, dear?”, I hear from across the table and stare right into his mother's eyes.
By Michelle Malou
As sophisticated as possible, I handle my fork and knife to cut the asparagus into pieces that fit in my mouth. My hunger almost forces me to fill up my stomach as quick as possible, but I remain in control and slowly continue to work my way through the starter. Siting neatly at the table, chewing on my food, I suddenly choke and quickly have to decide if the food should come back up or go down. When I have made my decision and managed to get the food back on its intended route, I turn to my boyfriend who's hand is trying to get to my crotch. However, my cultured cross-legged position prevents his hand from moving free within the area. "What do you think you are doing?!", I asked him with earnest. "I just literally cannot take my hands of you. Don't worry, I'll be sneaky. Just relax", he whispers in my ear. From the way he talks I can hear that he is horny and instantly I feel the familiar tingle between my legs. I decide to go with it and slowly move my legs from each in order to give his hand leeway, while I try continue to eat my asparagus with a straight face.
Steadily his hand is moving up my inner thigh and I keep tightening my grip on the cutlery the higher he gets. The smooth fabric of my underwear acts as an intensifier for the touch of his finger on my clit and for a moment I lose control of my body. A jerk and silent moan are the result. “Are you alright, dear?”, I hear from across the table and stare right into his mother's eyes. “Uh, yes. I will just quickly go freshen up. Excuse me”, I answer in a slight chaotic manner. Before getting up I remove my boyfriend's hand from between my legs and feel how warm is has become. The rest of the family let their eyes follow me when I exit the room and I sigh deeply when I feel I am visually out of reach.
“Without giving it much further thought I remove my underpants and put them in my bag. I can smell the horniness that has embedded itself into them”
The mirror gives me the opportunity to take in the image that my mother-in-law has been seeing from across the table. My big eyes and red cheeks make me look exactly like what I am. A woman that has just been finger-fucked under the table at a neat family dinner. My eyes and their reflection meet in the mirror and a self-congratulating smile appears on my face. “You nasty, nasty girl”, I tell myself before my hand vanishes under my skirt. It seems I cannot help myself either and the whole forbidden nature of the situation makes me want it even more. Without giving it much further thought I remove my underpants and put them in my bag. I can smell the horniness that has embedded itself into them. Full of confidence I return to the dining room for the main course. "Ah, grilled salmon. My favourite!", I say cheerfully. With a polite smile I sit down at the table surrounded by my in-laws and as preparation for what is to come, draw my chair as close up to the table as I can as.
"Are you okay?", my boyfriend asks me. "Yes, I just gave you full access", I whisper seductively. He tries to hold back the smug on his face. "Enjoy your meal everyone", he says instead. It is only when I halfway done with my delicious salmon when I suddenly feel his hand under the table again. All the while his father asked me a deep philosophical question that I want to answer as intelligently as possible. My actions at that moment might not align with my intended goal of that evening; leaving a good impression. Now his finger makes direct contact with my clit, but this time I am more prepared and manage to direct my sexual responses inward. "Yes, I think that it is impossible to love someone else if you do not love yourself", I answer his father calmly and with certainty.
“Immediately he pushes his body against mine and I wonder if no one saw the bump I was holding in my hand under the table. ‘It's time for dessert’, he moans”
"I need to finish my salmon, love", he whispers and pull his hand slowly from under the table up to his nose to take in the smell of me on his fingers. "What is going on with you two?", his mother asks with wonder. "Nothing. I just said I really like my salmon", he quickly answers to eradicate any suspicion. Just like my arousal, I keep my giggles completely inside of me and can help but get reminded of how excited I felt when I broke into our school building at the age of fourteen. A feeling I have not felt in a long time. Until now. When the last bite of the salmon enters my mouth I decide to return the favour and sluggishly move my hand under the table. His warm, blood-filled penis is acknowledging itself through his trousers. My boyfriend's demeanour remains completely calm, while he continues eating. The hardening of his dick in my hand is the only indication of his lust.
"This was really delicious, mom", he complements his mother across the table. "Thank you, darling. I am glad you enjoy it. I am glad you are here", she says with a gentle smile before she reaches over the table to hold his hand that was previously touching me. The indirect connection with his mother is a step too far for me and I let go of his wood. "I will show you my old bedroom", he says suddenly, but with enthusiasm. A left turn from the dining room and one staircase later we are standing in a boy's bedroom that has not changed much since it was abandoned years prior. Immediately he pushes his body against mine and I wonder if no one saw the bump I was holding in my hand under the table. "It's time for dessert", he moans. "Come get it boy!", I say before presenting the sweetness under my skirt. The two-course secret foreplay has caused us to be horny like teenagers and one instant later we are vigorously fucking like two. It does not take us long to climax just moments after each other and right in time for the actual dessert. A part of me feels a little bit guilty while eating my crème brûlée back at the table, but when it is time to say goodbye I am fairly certain I have left a good impression.
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