Uncomfortable Dinners - Part 1

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Peter had prepared two portions of pulled pork with delicate side of green beans. Two glasses of sparkling champagne for Anna and him. 

The pair had been together for about eight months. It was serious, he was on the verge of proposing. They didn't live together, but he didn't care either. As they sat opposite one another, he held her moisturised hand, looking intently into her soft emerald eyes. The alcohol had already softened his lips, and relaxed his stomach. He felt like the pork was too much, perhaps a little over-saturated with salt. But it hadn't stopped the pair from devouring it. Dessert was still to come, and Anna had made it clear she was to prepare it. 

She had left briefly to head into the dimly lit kitchen. The candles on the table were melting fast, and the dining room had almost gone black. Peter shifted around to grab another candle from the table behind, and used the lighter beside it to light the small round tealight. They burned to liquid within five minutes, which caused him to scrunch his brow. Anna waltzed back into the dining section, this time, weilding two bowls steaming with what smelt like custard. She had also changed her clothes.

Peter struggled to keep his eyes from her breasts, plump beneath the see-through flowering lilac nightgown she had put on. No bra, just raw breast, for him to admire. Her lips, decorated with bright red lipstick, her eyes, touched up and highlighted with some makeup. He felt the bulge in his pants grow rapidly. A quick stuffing for dessert and that would suffice. She was his love though, and he couldn't get away with such uncaring notions. But he felt her leg rub on his. She had no pants on, her silk legs like warm cushions which ne needed to part.

'Fuck me,' she whispered. Immediately, and discarding the bowls of warm custard, he jumped up, struggling to undo his belt quick enough. She also jumped to her feet, moving the bowls aside on the table, and leaning over the wood, lifting her night gown and revealing her toned bum and warm gushing gap between the soft legs. Peter came round the table, ripped his trousers off and tore his boxers from around his ankles before grabbing her waist, guiding himself inside. Her hands grabbed his arms as she moaned. He penetrated the soft lining of her, each thrust heavenly bliss. Her moans grew louder, as her legs trembled as he forced himself into her. He reached underneath to stimulate the vulva. She cried out, as the table shook to its core. Her round flesh bouncing around his throbbing shaft. He pounds her again and again, merciless as to her cries, she shook and he retracted and came all over her back. She sighs, and he slipped himself in and out to clean himself off. She used her fingers to feel inside and he got on his knees and played around with her clitoris some more, perhaps she can get off too. Silence, and they are done. 

Peter is already dressed and out of the kitchen, and sat on the living room sofa before Anna had a chance to clean herself up. But when she is done cleaning herself, slowly, savouring each wipe, she smiled and joined him on the sofa. The pair sat silently whilst an episode of Downtown Abbey played on the TV. 

'How was it?' she asks. Peter grunts.

'Alright,' he mumbles. The programme sound filled the room as the pair sat together, not saying a word. Anna is glass eyed, fiddling with the loose strings of fabric from her gown. Peter is leaning back with his eyes closed. He knew she'd go to bed soon. And, she did within ten seconds of him thinking it. He was relieved, as after the pork all he'd wanted to do was sleep. 

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