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…

glance around the table, everyone talking to everyone

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, wearing

James is

it’s fine.” I wipe it down on

don’t move. But his hand does, pushing between

is astonishingly difficult to chew turkey while

*****

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

Charlotte pipes up. “Bladder?”

“Um,

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

is struggling herself to get

working spirals between my pussy lips, I’m conscious of

Black dress, not red…

Hmmm…

taps me on the shoulder. “Kirstie, why do

turn an austere

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

say, “Because it is an ideal opportunity

at his lip. “I had to

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

paper. He snaps his fingers under the table, waving the greasy paper.

cloud of hair and outrage, but Ryan, Michael, Richard and Larry exchange inspired glances, snatching off their own hats. Michael wipes his down with a bit of turkey skin, then clicking fingers and tongue. “Archie. C’mon

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 a wolf ravening