The Dinner Party


The clock above the kitchen sink read 7:48 when I heard the metallic snap of Aya's key unlocking the front door. I opened the oven door and was rewarded with a blast of steam that smelled like a lazy August afternoon, all rich garden spices and earthy head. Inside was a boxy cookie sheet covered in heirloom tomatoes tossed in oil, fennel, basil, and oregano. They had been baking cut-side down for three hours, and the skins were shriveled and split and ready to be peeled. I pulled the sheet out and set it on the stovetop to cool, and turned back to the steak tenderloin I was slicing on the cutting board on the kitchen island.

"Hey babe," I called out as I heard her heels clicking down the tile hall.

"Hey yourself," she replied as she swept into our open kitchen and dining room. In her highest heels Aya was nearly as tall as I, a couple of inches short of six feet, with hair and eyes the color of German chocolate. She had dressed for court today, in a smart pencil skirt and blouse tailored to hug her slim curves and small, pert breasts.

"You should have called, I could have cancelled with Simon and Sarah. Or at least delayed."

"I didn't think I'd be cutting things this close, it was traffic more than anything." She closed her eyes and tilted her head back before breathing deeply through her nostrils. "That smells like heaven."


She lifted one slender leg and unstrapped her heels, balancing like a crane on one foot. "How was your day?"

"Fine. Uneventful. They moved the department meeting until tomorrow, and I didn't have any classes to teach after two so I left early. I got a little writing done, too."

There was an opened bottle of pinot noir on the broad kitchen table, and after she removed her heels she poured a glass. "Do I need to get changed?"

"You look absurdly good, so no."

She smiled and sipped the pinot. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"There's an olive tapenade in the fridge and bruschetta in the warmer if you want to put them on the table."

She took another drink of the wine as the retrieved the tapenade.

"Sorry we didn't get to finish what we started this morning." I took the cap off a bottle of truffle oil and drizzled it over the steak medallions.

"Never apologize for waking me up like that," she chastised me warmly. "I much prefer your mouth to an alarm clock."

I grinned and began to slice a handful of shiitake mushrooms into thin slices. "Still, that had to make for a frustrating day."

"You have no idea."

"That bad?"

"Yeah, that bad."

"Poor baby."

She set her wineglass down on the granite countertop and stepped up behind me, so close I could smell her perfume even over the herb garden scent of the roasted tomatoes. She reached around with her left and hand lightly caressed the bulge at the front of my trousers, her breath warm on my neck.

"They shouldn't say much past eleven, so maybe we can finish then?"

"Maybe." She slithered her hand from my crotch to the inside of my shirt. Her nails raked across my stomach as her other hand hooked nimble fingers over my waistband.

I sliced the last mushroom and suppressed a grin. "After."

"Think we have time now?" she asked, a note of pleading in her voice.

"We don't." I gestured to the clock with my head. "They're supposed to be here in less than five minutes."

"I'll be quick."

I thought she was playing until she tugged my trousers half way down my thighs.

"Baby, we don't have time." She disagreed by pushed my boxers down just enough to bare the cheeks of my ass.

"I'll be quick," she repeated. "Please, David." She pulled the hand that had been up my shirt free and placed it in the small of my back. Reluctantly I let her push me forward over the counter, still not sure she was serious.

She dipped her other finger in the truffle oil and wormed it between the cheeks of my ass, stabbing up to her knuckle. I let out a hiss of surprise, and realized she wasn't going to stop when I heard the front zipper on her skirt.

"The doorbell could ring any second!"

Her only response was the hot slap of her cock against my bare ass and her breath on my neck as she leaned over.

"If they show up I'll stop," she promised, nosing her thick tool into the cleft of my ass. She slid it up and down until the swollen knob of her prick bumped against my hole. Slowly but steadily she pushed forward. For a second or two I felt the pressure on my anus, and then my hole opened up as she slid smoothly inside.

I sucked in sharply, not from pain but from surprise at how effortlessly she entered me. It made me break out in goose bumps. We'd been doing this for years, since we'd met through a mutual friend when Aya was an undergrad, but no matter how many times we fucked it always made me shiver and shake. I let out a groan, and she kept pushing forward, feeding me three, then four, then five inches before pausing.

"You'll stop?"

"Yeah," she replied, though I wasn't sure she sounded sincere.

Dropping both hands down to my hips, she pulled me towards her as she pushed forward, burying the last three inches inside me, bottoming out, and I gave an involuntary grunt. I tried to breathe, but it was difficult; I was bent in half over the counter with my ass gaped open to the size of a golf ball around my girlfriend's rock hard dick.

"God, I needed that," she groaned as she withdrew, pulling back until only the fat knob of her dick remained inside me before shoving herself forward, her rod grazing my prostate as she bottomed out again. "All day, this is what I wanted."

My cock jerked and I could feel a small spasm of pre-cum force out the tip. She pulled back again and shoved forward again, knocking another grunt from my mouth and another spasm from my dick. Another withdrawal and thrust, and another low groan, over and over. I tried to keep quiet, but I couldn't. Every time her prick knocked against my prostate, the sounds just exploded from my throat. Again. Again.

"Hurry," I panted, squeezing her as best I could with my ass.

"Hurry . . . ing."

She had a rhythm going now, pulling out smoothly and thrusting back deeply, long-dicking my ass with her bloated cock, raking my prostate with each plunge. The only sounds in the room were the slap of flesh on flesh, and a solitary grunt from me every time she hit bottom.

It felt exquisite, like nothing else, the feeling of my asshole stretched tightly around her hot organ, and the feeling of Aya forcing herself deep inside me, over and over. I didn't push back against her; instead I let her take me, her small hands on my hips pulling me tight with every sodomizing stroke.

My asshole began to make squelching sounds as she thrust up me, and my steady grunts began getting louder despite my efforts to bite them off. I couldn't hold back the sound, the sensation of having her large cock churning up my guts overriding any semblance of self control.

In and out she thrust, my anus gripping her tightly, my moans and the wet slap of her cock in my ass filling my ears, and the smell of our fucking filling my nose even over the rich food.

"Wanted to fuck you all day, thinking of fucking you all day. Trying to listen to briefs, and the only thing . . . I could think of was getting home and filling your ass with girlcum."

Looking up I could see our reflection in the mirror on the wall in the dining room. It was strange, looking at myself like that, watching me splayed across the island with Aya's cute Asian body behind me, still fully dressed, pounding my ass like a prison rapist. She looked possessed.

She looked beautiful.

I forgot about our pending dinner guests. Time ceased to exist. The only thought in my mind was her large tool sliding effortlessly in and out of my bowels. Deep inside my balls a heavy tingle started to grow and it seemed to increase as she hammered into me, pushing out and enveloping more and more of my body.

"God, David, oh god I love fucking you. Do you love it when I fuck you?"

"Yes," I whispered back.

"Are you going to sit here tonight, having dinner with our friends, knowing my cum is trying to ooze back out your ass?"

"Yes," I answered again.

I wasn't aware of much, but I could tell she was getting close now. Her strokes picked up force but lost speed, each one more making my prick leak like a broken faucet. She would thrust inside me, pushing as far as she could, trying to get more and more of her rigid meat up my ass, and pull out again. We were building towards a massive explosion, and each time she bottomed out the tingling in my balls grew hotter and hotter.

"Fuck, I'm close, I'm close," Aya grunted as she slammed forward again and again until I almost couldn't stand it anymore. My testicles were on fire, ready to explode, each bump against my prostate nudged me to the edge of the cliff.

The sound of the doorbell ringing fell like a hammer blow.

"God, they're here!" I cursed, pushing up off the counter with my palms. I expected Aya to stop, to pull out, but she didn't. Instead she brought one small hand up from my hip and placed it between my shoulders, forcing me back down with all her strength. I could have resisted her, but was so surprised I let her pin me in place. She kept riding me as if nothing had happened, pounding my ass like her life depended on it.

"I can't stop now, I can't, I can't, I can't," she chanted. "Need to come, need to come in you, please, please . . . please!"

The doorbell rang again, but she ignored it, pounding harder and harder. I could feel the teeth of her skirt zipper biting my skin, and the heat in my balls grew even hotter as I realized I didn't want her to stop either.

Suddenly, she threw her head back and let loose a wordless roar before slamming harder against me than she had before, forcing every millimeter of her organ inside my abused hole. The final stab against my prostate was all it took and the tingling in my balls exploded with a white light behind my eyes as my cock began to convulse, splattering my belly and shirt.

She held me in a steel grip, buried as far in me as anyone as she had ever been, and I could feel the heat and warmth of her cum emptying into my guts. She pulled back and gave several more savage thrusts, each accompanied by another molten hot pulse of jizz inside my ass, each jab forcing another spurt of cum from my own cock.

She held me still, pinned to the island and buried balls deep in my ass, our orgasms gradually fading as we caught our breath. After what seemed an eternity she slowly withdrew her semi-hard cock from my hole with a wet plop and stepped back.

I tried my best to clench my ass shut to keep her huge load from running out of my stretched anus as she reached forward and gently grabbed a handful of my hair, guiding me off the counter and onto my knees.

"Taste it, clean it off," she begged me, pulling my head towards her glistening organ. It still hung thick and seven inches long even when deflated, and was smeared with pasty white cum and juice from my ass.

I opened my mouth and take her inside as she pressed against my lips. It tasted like heaven, it tasted like what sex smells like, dirty and earthy and salty and hot, and I slurped her deep down my throats.

"Suck it, suck my dirty cock." My tongue washed her cock clean as she pumped in and out of my mouth, one hand still tangled in my hair like a bridle.

The doorbell rang a third time as she pulled my head off her dick and smiled down at me. I was on my knees in front of her, pants in disarray around my feet, butt clenched to keep from shitting her cum over the back of my legs, my own sperm drying on my belly.

"Holy shit," I muttered, looking down at myself. "What the fuck are we going to do?"

Aya tucked her pink cock back into her skirt, zipped her fly, and grabbed her wine glass. Without a word she upended it, spilling the dregs onto my shirt. "Accident. We need to get changed."

I stood and hiked up my pants. Aya took my hand hers and we walked down the hall to the door.

"Jesus, what happened to you to?" Sarah asked as we opened the entry door.

"Cooking accident," I explained as we greeted our friends, hoping my breath didn't smell too much like my girlfriend's dirty cock.

"There's tapenade and bruschetta on the table and an opened bottle of wine," Aya told them, taking both their jackets. "You'll have to excuse us for a few minutes while we get cleaned up."

We excused ourselves into the master bedroom as Simon and Sarah made their way to the kitchen.

"Jesus that was close," I muttered once safely inside our room. I pulled my wine-stained and cum-splattered shirt up and over my head and tossed it into the hamper and dropped my pants. "Think they knew?"

"Even if they suspected just what caused our 'accident' I'm guessing they have no idea just who was fucking who," she observed with a smile.

I laughed and stepped into the bathroom to check myself in the mirror, and I was just about to turn around when I felt her behind me again, her hands on my hips. I let out a hiss of surprise, and realized she wasn't going to stop when I heard the front zipper on her skirt.

"They are expecting us out there any minute!"

The only response was the hot slap of her cock against my bare ass and her breath on my neck as she leaned over and pushed into me again.

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by Anonymous

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You captured the nuance of established lovers, the tension of a busy day, with the expectation of pleasant social interaction... and slipped us deep into the vibrancy of two lovers, deeplymore...

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