Eating Out For Dinner

Charlotte and Khloe should know better. Their affair is reckless, dirty, and happening under the same roof as Charlie Forde. That only makes it worse, or better, depending on how you look at it. They fuck with the constant threat of being caught, and somehow that only turns them on more. Today the dining room is the scene of the crime. Khloe’s already on her knees before the meal is served, blonde hair spilling across Charlotte’s thighs. She works her mouth with greedy focus, tongue sliding through every fold. Charlotte’s small breasts rise and fall under a thin top, nipples tight. Charlie moves in the next room, footsteps growing louder. Khloe disappears beneath the table just in time. Her fingers push up inside Charlotte, wet sounds barely hidden by the scrape of a chair. Charlie hovers near, oblivious, pouring water, asking questions that require short, shaky answers. The second Charlie steps away, Khloe’s mouth returns. It happens twice more, each time the risk sharper. Finally Charlie lingers too long, suspicious. Both women cram under the table, bodies pressed close, breathing into each other’s necks. Charlie sniffs the air, mutters something, then leaves the house. The moment the door shuts, Charlotte drags Khloe onto the table. Legs spread, hips lifted, Khloe lets her stepmother take over. Fingers sink deep, then tongues trade places, the two of them loud now, unrestrained, fucking on the polished wood like they own the place.