Double Dare(349)

“My pussy’s bare now,” I said coyly. “You’re up next.”

And Pete groaned then, an audible noise in the darkened dining room. But thank god, at that moment my dad’s voice boomed extra loud as he showed off the marlin he’d managed to net.

“See that?” he crowed. “This here sucker’s a full twelve feet, and it’s the same baby we’ve got mounted on our living room wall now.”

The crowd oohed and ahed with appreciation, because yeah, there was a huge preserved marlin on my parents’ wall now, the eyes glazed and fake, spray-painted after death, but I guess that’s how taxidermy works. Personally it was gross, but I was just happy that my dad was unexpectedly providing cover for our dirty little game.

And Pete wasn’t letting up either. Subtly, his fingers crept into my lap, and I whimpered under my breath, parting my thighs as his digit traced along my labia. Oh god, it felt so good, so wrong, this man touching me right in my parents’ dining room with people all around. What the fuck was wrong with me? I’d turned into a slut for this alpha, everything open to him, wet and slippery, doing whatever he wanted.

Because as his fingers probed, my thighs parted obligingly, granting him entrance. And oh god, oh god, it felt so good. With a soft push, one digit was in, worming into my sweet depths and I moaned involuntarily, trying to choke it back, but it was impossible. I was too turned on.

“Did someone say something?” Jim called out. “Questions anyone?”

And I sat rock still, absolutely terrified. Oh my god, we were about to be outed, the big man’s hand buried deep in my pussy, his cock out as we touched each other.

But Pete has nerves of steel and called out in a manly voice.

“Just wondering which outfit you used?” he rumbled smoothly. “In case I want to go deep-sea fishing next time I’m there.”

And my dad flushed, so happy to get a question, proof that people were listening.

“I used Caribbean Guides, I’ll give you their card,” Jim chortled. “Just tell Bobby that I sent you, and you’ll get a discount,” he preened like a VIP. My heart curdled a little out of embarrassment. I didn’t think Pete would need a discount, probably wouldn’t even use the same tour operator as Jim, he could afford so much more. But all that flew out of my mind as Mr. Parker’s big fingers began moving inside, caressing my inner channel, rubbing up and down my pussy.

“Thanks,” his low voice rang out. “Appreciate it.”

And I almost screamed then, it felt so good, he felt so good in me. How in the world did he do this? My pussy was wetly creaming now, the squelch of his fingers as he moved in and out almost audible, my thighs quivering, clit on fire. Oh god, oh god, I was gonna come at the table, Mr. Parker was going to drive me over the edge right here, right now, and I was going to scream like a woman in the throes of orgasm, throw my head back and let out a piercing wail, giving away our pleasure, our naughty deeds.

But Mr. Parker wanted in on the goods too. Without missing a beat, he removed his fingers from my cunt slowly, making me gasp, look at him with wide eyes. Why? Why stop now, when I was so close?

But he glanced at me slyly and brought his fingers to his mouth, licking them slowly. If anyone looked they probably just thought he was savoring chicken juices, or maybe a particularly delectable berry tart that had spilled on his hand. But no, he was tasting my cream, my pussy nectar right here at the table.

“Mmm, baby, excellent as always,” he praised in a low voice. “You’ve been eating well.”

And I shivered then at the double entendre. Because we were eating well at my parents’ Christmas brunch, a cornucopia of food laid out in front of us. But I needed more, I needed fulfillment, ecstasy, only the pleasure he could give.

“Please,” I panted slightly. “Don’t leave me like this, please, Mr. Parker, please.”

And the alpha chuckled low in his throat.

“Don’t worry baby girl, I won’t,” he rumbled. “When have I ever left my best girl high and dry?”

And with one swift movement, he scooted his chair back and lifted me into his lap, plopping me down so that my bare pussy was right up against his hard cock. I almost squealed, almost squeaked at the wrongness of this all. Holy shit, we were in public, the warm breathing of other people all around us, they were my relatives for crying out loud, and here I was with my hungry, quivering pussy pressed up against the pole that could give me so much pleasure. So wriggling my hips, with a small whine and a twist, I angled myself until his tip was right up against my entrance. And with a small push, a small jerk, it began to happen. Oh yeah, Mr. Parker began to fuck me right at the dinner table. Right here, on Christmas Eve, with my dad still droning not fifteen feet away, the sound of silverware clinking all around us, his dick began to edge into my sweet pussy, making me mewl and squirm a bit, it felt so fucking good.