Melody can't come, but Jason sure can

"It's a shame Melody couldn't make it," William says, if only to fill the awkward silence at the dinner table.

Well, awkward for him: Patricia is busy making eyes at Jason, while the boy seems tired and satisfied. They're sitting in a booth at the back of the restaurant, surrounded by other happy diners.

"Mmm... She's got a nice ass," Jason murmurs, before sticking a hand under the table. "...Not as nice as yours, though." Patricia lets out a little yelp as he squeezes something.

"Th-thanks," she says, biting her lip and squirming in her seat as she fights an internal battle over whether to scoot away from the insolent teenager, or lean closer and return the handsome Alpha's affection. Luckily, she's saved by the bell.

"Hi there!" Their waitress approaches, holding two plates. "I've got some appetizers for you folks... Who had the caesar?"

"That's mine. They're sharing the brie toast," Jason says... But before she can put the second plate down between William and Patricia, he grabs it from her hand. "Hey, Trish? Need a little relief."

"Um, what do you--" Her eyes go wide as Jason grabs her wrist and moves her hand over his lap. "Oh. Oh my--Ah, um, okay--" She's breathing heavily as Jason guides her below the table, gently but forcefully.

"I--I'll be back to check on you," the waitress stammers, turning on her heel and hustling away.

Meanwhile, William is staring at his wife, brow furrowed. He... Right, he needs her help with something. I knew that. This is normal... Uh... What was it he needed help with again?

His confusion only grows as the sound of a zipper cuts through the din of the crowded restaurant, and a potent scent wafts in his direction.

Then there's a heavy, fleshy thwap, and Patricia yelps again from beneath the table. A few seconds later, it's followed by a shlck, shlck, shlck noise.

Jason grunts and leans back in the booth, nearly dropping the plate. Then he seems to remember he's holding it, and lowers it beneath the edge of the table. "Here... Take this," he moans. "I'm gonna dress it soon."

"Gmph--Mhmph," Patricia replies, before picking up the pace. "...Mph... Mgh... Mphmgh..."

"Are you okay under there, hon?"

She tries to pull back, but Jason's hand leaps to push her down. "Not yet," he growls, pumping his arm furiously. "Almost--Ungh!"

There's a squelch... A gasp... A splort... Then about a dozen more, as gallons of goop begind flying under the table. William can't see the resulting mess, but he feels it: rope after rope of hot goo splats against his pants and shoes--And that's just the bursts that make it past Patricia's kneeling, trembling body.

The MILF reaches a hands-free orgasm right there under the table, as she revels in the sensation of hormone-laden jism washing over her. Slumping back against her husband's legs, she closes her eyes, opens her mouth, and lets her white-painted tongue loll out. "...Hmmmgh..." Her thighs twitch and rub together, and a mixture of drool and cum begins dripping down her chest.

"Mmm... That's better," Jason sighs happily, grabbing the base of his cock and thrusting his hips a little as he wipes off its tip on Patricia's tiny top. "Hey Trish, did you dress that brie toast?"

"I... Um... A 'lil," she slurs from beneath the table. "...Here, lemme just put... S'more..."

William furrows his brow as he hears his wife... Spitting?

After a few seconds she clambers back into her seat, placing the appetizer plate between her and William. The brie toast is now covered in a thick layer of glistening, pearly-white jelly, the amount absolutely dwarfing its former cheese-only payload.

But the tasty treat isn't the only thing slathered in jizz. Patricia's face is dripping with the stuff, and a viscous pool is forming in her cleavage. The tiny tube top she's wearing is soaked through--As is the thong down below, though that's just as much her own fault as Jason's.

William's jaw drops as he watches his sperm-caked wife settle back into her seat, more cum sloughing off her with each passing moment. "I--You--What--"

"Your wife's a messy eater," Jason laughs, giving Patricia's ass a squeeze. "Look how much, uh, 'cheese' she got on herself!"

"Th-that's... I don't think that's..."

"Of course it is, dummy. Eat up," the boy continues, grabbing a fork to dig into his own salad.

The moment he gives the command, Patricia's hand darts into the gooey mess atop their plate. She practically has to dig for one of the little pieces of toast, and hastens to shove it into her mouth before its toppings can all ooze through her fingers.

"Mmm... Ooh, gaaawd," she moans through a mouthful of creamy goodness, oblivious to the fact that more of the slop is pouring down onto her chest with every bite. "...Yeeesh... Honey, y-you... Mph... You gotta..."

Before waiting for a reply, the cum-drunk woman picks up another sloppy piece and shoves it in her husband's face. William's jaw is already wide open--And to avoid a huge mess, he keeps it open as his wife feeds him an apple-sized blob of bread, brie, and baby-batter. "Mmph! H-hon, I do--Mgh! Mmph... Mmm..." His complaints quickly trail off as he begins to chew, his wide eyes growing progressively more lidded. "...Mm... Mhm..."

When the waitress returns to check on them, Jason is happily eating while the older couple turn a big mess into a huge one. Globs of sperm are dripping, flying, and splorting everywhere, as nearly-catatonic William and nearly-climaxing Patricia savor their shared meal. Meanwhile, the ocean of jizz beneath the table is slowly spreading, and one of the poor employee's shoes lands squarely in the puddle.

"Oh my--Um, I... I hope you..." She trails off, shaking her foot a few times to un-stick the heel. "...It looks like you're doing fine... I'll be back with your entrees shortly, then!"

With a faint squelch, squelch, squelch, she bustles off once more. A few people at nearby tables look up at the noise... Then see her, and the sticky footprints she's leaving behind... Which lead straight to...

"Oh my God," a middle-aged man says aloud, while everyone else has the courtesy to just gasp or whisper. "That boy's--"

"Sssh, Harold," his wife snaps, whacking him on the shoulder... And nearly missing, since her eyes are glued to Jason's crotch.

But alas, the show is soon cut short as Jason hefts his massive member and stuffs it back into his pants. Looking down, he finds his hand sticky... And gives it a quick wipe on the underside of Patricia's breast (the only bit of cloth on her person that isn't entirely soaked-through).

"Damn, you two were hungry," he says, smiling at the empty plate between the married couple. "Want more?"

"I... I dunno," William says, wiping his mouth. Shame is beginning to appear on his face, as his subconscious mind recognizes what he's just finished gobbling.

"Yes," Patricia moans, squirming in her seat.

That gets a chuckle out of Jason. "Well, I'm kinda spent right now... But maybe in a bit. Go get cleaned up," he says, ushering Patricia to her feet. "Then maybe I can be persuaded to make you guys a special dessert."

"Oh, uh... You don't have to do that," William says, as he tries not to watch his wife's thick, thong-clad ass bob into the distance. "We can get something here. No need to--"

"Well, maybe we'll ask your wife which one she prefers," the boy replies. "But I really don't mind cooking something up. It'll be nice to get back home--Maybe go to bed early." He glances over his shoulder, blatantly oggling Patricia's backside. "Mm... Yeah, that's sounding better and better..."