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 to everyone

In the five seconds I have to work with, I slide the panties down and over my ankles, pressing them into Ryan’s waiting

Kirstie?” James is already half-standing from his

I wipe

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

to chew turkey while

*****

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

Charlotte pipes up. “Bladder?”

“Um, yes,

you a hand. I know what

But Charlotte is struggling herself to

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

Black dress, not red…

Hmmm…

taps me on the shoulder. “Kirstie,

an austere

always wondered that too…” James

I say, “Because it is

plucks at his lip.

the footsteps recede down the hall, James cocks 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,

his pirate hat, then snatching up a pig-in-blanket, he smears bacon fat all along the length of the paper. He snaps his fingers under the table, waving the greasy paper. “Hey, Scruffy. Here, Scruffy.” Michael’s rat-faced mongrel streaks across the floor, snatches at the hat then

in a cloud of hair and outrage, but Ryan, Michael, Richard and Larry exchange inspired glances, snatching off their own hats.

Gang return like the Four 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