Chapter Seventeen
Dinner is Served
Though the lasagna is superb, Christy distracts, her bloated scrotal sac rippling on approach, those cute buttocks rolling on departure. The heavy carefully planted footfalls accentuate the motion of the soft hairless flesh. As a result, though Jim gawks in a combined reaction of amusement and arousal, the pretty baubles I have attached to Christy’s elastic n****e cords go without notice.
Sitting opposite of Jim, he peering to his right to observe Christy exiting the kitchen, me peering to my left, I slip off my shoe and raise my foot under the table, gliding it between Jim’s thighs. The tumescence has progressed, his trousers quite tented. Upon feeling my exploring foot, there comes no protest. Instead he smiles.
“I have special entertainment. Desse
