Center of the table

The pea rolls off and keeps going until it comes to a rest in the center of the table.

Everybody looks up at the errant pea.

Mr Barshford looks at you and Amy brow furrowed asking a question with his eyes.

I guess you better fess-up, it came from Amy's plate, but you set it in motion, and it is her birthday after all, you don't want her to catch any more flack than she already has.

"It's-" you start to say.

"Mine." Amy interjects. "Sorry daddy."

"Well?" He replies.

"I said sorry."

"And... we don't waste good food in this house, you know that."

"But..."

"Amy!" He warns.

"Okay, fine." She confidently spears the pea with her fork. "No problem, I'll eat it then."

Mr Barshford nods. Amy then pops it into her mouth - tasting her own pussy juice. You expect her to quickly swallow it to get it over and done with, but instead she starts to swish it around in her mouth savouring it.

"Mmm, it's delicious! Thank you mummy for cooking such a delicious meal, the peas especially are so succulent and juicy," Amy says.

Mr Barshford watches her carefully trying to decide if she is being sarcastic or not, but he huffs, and decides to let it go, and looks back down at his dinner.

Amy looks to you to share the moment. You reach down and pick up a pea from your plate and pop it and your pussy juice soaked finger into your mouth and slowly suck it clean while Amy watches.

"Mm, I agree with Amy, the peas are particularly juicy." You comment.

"Why thank you Jack, that's very kind."