Hot Revenge Box Set 2

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 talking

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 return to the upper world,

James is

I wipe it down on my

don’t move. But his hand does, pushing

difficult to chew turkey while having

*****

her seat. Richard murmurs something quiet to her, and she nods, grimacing. Then, “Can

Charlotte pipes up. “Bladder?”

“Um, yes,

Give you a hand. I know what it’s like when you’re that size and you’re trying to manage with your dress

stands, sliding her chair out as she heaves herself upright. But Charlotte is struggling herself to get up from her seat and Mitch rises

Ryan’s finger working spirals between my pussy lips, I’m conscious

Black dress, not red…

Hmmm…

me on the shoulder. “Kirstie, why do women go to the toilet

austere expression on

pipes up. “Actually, I’ve always wondered that too…” James

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

his lip. “I had to

flows into the room, tails wagging, noses raised towards table level, or in Emma’s case, above table

table, waving the greasy paper. “Hey, Scruffy. Here, Scruffy.” Michael’s rat-faced mongrel streaks across the floor, snatches at the hat then speeds

follow him in a cloud of hair and outrage, but Ryan, Michael, Richard and Larry exchange inspired glances,

Horsemen learning they are late for the Apocalypse. Meg, in her best rendition of the role of Famine, sits at Richard’s feet, raising limpid brown eyes to him, then as she is presented with turkey-flavoured tissue, descends on it like