Larry slices into something, chews, then says, “This is excellent. What am I eating here?”

James looks across to his plate. “Prune-stuffed pork. Regional speciality where I grew up, usually made for special occasions.” Larry’s brows arch.

Under the table, I become aware of a hand on my thigh. Ryan appears to be listening to the conversation, but ‘below stairs’ he eases between my knees, pushing them apart. Very quietly, he murmurs, “Open up.”

James and Larry are still talking. “Where was that? That you grew up, I mean?”

“Spain.”

“Really? What part?”

“Valencia Province. You know it?”

“Not well. I've visited Valencia city, but I didn't get further afield than that. So, you're Spanish?”

“My mother was Spanish. My father English.”

Ryan eases a finger down and in, tracing a line over my skin that makes my pussy warm and twitch. He speaks without moving his lips. “Wider.”

I’m trying to chew my food, but it’s not easy. Finger and thumb pluck at my panties. “Off.”

“Ryan…” My voice is a hiss.

“Off, I said.”

All eyes are on James and Larry. Nonetheless, I’m happy that, my face made-up, my flush is concealed as I raise myself from my seat just enough for Ryan to hook fingers into my panties and tug down. “Finish the job,” he murmurs. “Take them off and give them to me.”

Christ…

around the table, everyone

my fork, then, pasting on a sheepish smile, duck under the table to ‘retrieve it’. In the five seconds I have to work with, I slide the panties down and over my ankles, pressing them into Ryan’s waiting hand, snatch up the fork and

is already half-standing from his

it’s fine.” I wipe it

girl.” Again, Ryan’s lips don’t move. But his hand

difficult to chew turkey while

*****

her, and she nods, grimacing. Then,

Charlotte pipes up. “Bladder?”

blushes. “Um,

Give you a hand. I know what it’s like when you’re that size and you’re

herself upright. But Charlotte is struggling herself to get up from her seat and Mitch rises too. “I

with a comfort break myself, but with Ryan’s finger working spirals between my

Black dress, not red…

Hmmm…

three women exit, Ryan taps me on the shoulder. “Kirstie,

an austere

wondered that too…” James and

say, “Because it is an ideal opportunity to compare notes

plucks at his lip. “I had to

his head, listening, then stands and clicks the door open. A tide of dogs flows into the room, tails wagging, noses raised towards table level, or in Emma’s case, above table level, giving

He snaps his fingers under the table, waving the greasy paper. “Hey, Scruffy. Here, Scruffy.” Michael’s rat-faced mongrel streaks across the floor,

but Ryan, Michael, Richard and Larry exchange inspired glances, snatching off their own hats. Michael wipes his down with

best rendition of the role of Famine, sits at Richard’s

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