Something new and improved

“Wow…” you groan as you take in how Rachel’s dressed for dinner. The high-heeled black ankle boots look familiar, as does the glossy black catsuit which hugs every curve below her chest. However, this time around she’s managed to pull the zipper all the way up her stomach, up to underneath her boobs, allowing for a truly spectacular amount of cleavage and tantalizing you with the possibility of her heavy tits forcing the zipper downwards if she’d only lean forwards, or back, or to either side. Really, any movement at all from Rachel seems set to reveal more of her awe-inspiring bust.

“You like it then?” Rachel beams, obviously very happy at your reaction, and lets out a delightful giggle when you hesitant for only a brief moment before nodding your head vigorously.

“Yeah,” you say, noting how her cock is bulging inside the catsuit and thus being reminded of your own member having gone from semi-erect to as stiff as it can get and pushing hard against the inside of your Speedos, “I definitely like it.”

“Good,” Rachel saunters close enough to you that she can reach out and run her hand up your chest, “This time, I made sure that it fit me. Well, fits most of me…”

“I think it fits your perfectly,” you say, without any hesitation.

“Well, thanks, but if I try tugging the zipper any higher, things start to get really uncomfortable,” Rachel explains, and her other hand wanders down to her crotch.

“Then don’t,” you helpfully suggest, and Rachel giggles again.

“Always in favour of the simplest solution, aren’t you, John?” Rachel asks with a playful smile, “Anyway, every time I move I swear I can hear the zipper slide downwards…”

“I don’t see how that’s a problem, honey,” you return the smile and wrap hold of her wrist, bringing her hand up to your face so you can kiss the palm of it.

“Can you guess the first thing I did after checking that it fit me, John?” Rachel purrs.

“Maybe… want to give me a hint?” You reply, while Rachel strokes your cheek.

“You know those modifications we talked about?” Rachel’s smile widens.

“I think you should show me that after dinner, Rachel, or our pizzas will get cold,” you suggest, your voice a little tense as you imagine what Rachel has done to the catsuit.

“Oh, so you don’t want me to turn around and spread them?” Rachel has her smile turn naughtier.

“Careful, honey, you’re awfully close to teasing me,” you warn Rachel, who pulls her hand back from your face and sticks her tongue out at you. You respond by stepping in closer and wrapping one arm round Rachel’s waist, pulling her close so you can kiss her again. Responding to the kiss, Rachel puts her arms on your shoulders and presses her huge, round tits tighter against your chest.

“So,” Rachel brings the kiss to an end just as it seemed like the two of you were about to forget all about dinner, “food?”

“Yeah, that sounds like a good idea,” you agree as you pull free of the embrace and turn towards the table, “If I can somehow sit down without experiencing excruciating pain…”

Your joke prompts Rachel to moan, and before you’ve had the chance to start walking over to your chair, she pounces you from behind, grabbing hold of your Speedos and tugging them down, lifting the front over your stiff cock which is suddenly free to spring out in front of you.

“Like I said,” Leaving the Speedos suspended round your thighs, Rachel slips in next to give and gives your chest a quick peck while placing one hand on your cock, “the bow tie was a nice touch…”

“You take every chance you get to get me naked, don’t you?” You in turn plant a kiss on Rachel’s forehead, while she treats the shaft of your erect rod to a loving squeeze that causes a thick drop of precum to come oozing out of your pisshole.

“Definitely,” Rachel grins up at you, “Every chance I get to ogle my sexy stud of a boyfriend naked, I take…”

“I think I can get used to that,” you return her grin, the two of you share a quick kiss, and then you quickly get out of your Speedos and finally lead Rachel over to the table and the awaiting pizzas. Pulling out her chair for her, you try not to gawk too closely at how her bubble butt fills out her catsuit. Not because you don’t absolutely love the sight of it, but one accidental glance at that modification that she’s teased you with already, and you’d definitely forget about dinner.

“So, any idea for a toast?” You ask Rachel as you pour her a glass of red wine that should go nicely with your food.

“Running out of warm water!” Rachel suggests, after mulling it over for a few seconds.

“Uh, what?” You furrow your brow and sound as sceptical as you probably look.

“Means I’ll get to fall asleep tonight all wet and sweaty and sticky…” With each word that flows out of her mouth, Rachel sounds huskier and hornier, her voice becoming more girlish as she adds, “And I just love that.”

“Huh, every time you said you were a dirty slut, I didn’t think you meant it quite so literally,” It’s now your turn to tease Rachel, which you do while seating yourself opposite to her.

“Hey! My personal hygiene’s excellent!” Rachel insists, “Only way it could get any better is if we start using liquid soap as lube.”

“I swear, each day I spend with you it’s like you give me another dozen dirty ideas,” you tell Rachel, switching teasing for sincerity.

“Same here, John,” Rachel’s sends you one of those big, radiant smiles that she’s so good at, and raises her glass.

“Running out of hot water, honey,” you say as you raise yours.

“Running out of hot water, honey,” Rachel imitates your words, and you gently clink your glasses together before sipping the wine.

“Wow, I’m absolutely famished,” Rachel says as she grabs her knife and fork.

“Me too,” you say.

“And the sooner we finish dinner…” Rachel continues, and you both know what she’s implying.

“We should probably talk a little at least, and not wolf down the food as fast as we can,” you suggest.

“Probably,” Rachel agrees, “although I could roll this pizza into a wrap.”

“And we both know how good you are at swallowing long, thick objects,” you flash her a dirty grin.

“Speaking of which, don’t forget your napkin, stud,” Rachel says as you start carving up your pizza, “melted cheese landing on your naked crotch doesn’t sound that fun.”

“Good point,” you drop your cutlery and spread your napkin out over your cock.

Despite what you said, dinner goes on for quite some time, the two of you managing to squeeze your lust for each other into the back of your mind and instead focusing on enjoying the homemade meal and each other’s company. Much of the discussion is about Rachel’s studies: she’s going to be a veterinarian, and the love towards animals that she’s felt ever since she was a child and her parents got her a dog, a bearded dachshund that her dad named in honour of Ian Rush.

“Did he look like him?” You ask.

“Kind of,” Rachel says, finishing her pizza and smiling after munching it down, “He had the same moustache.”

“More wine?” You rise out of your chair, showing off how your cock is somewhere between semi- and fully erect as you grab the bottle and come walking round the table.

“Oh, and served properly too,” Rachel grins at you and holds up her glass, but changes her mind and puts it down on the table again.

Since you’ve essentially shoved your dick in her face, you’re not surprised when Rachel begins lapping at its crown while you pour wine into her glass, her tongue swirling round it over and over again as her hand finds your balls and starts fondling them.
Turning in her chair, Rachel takes your cockhead deeper in her mouth as you place the wine bottle on the table and instead start running your fingers through her hair. You both moan when your cockend enters Rachel’s throat, though yours is a lot easier to hear, and you remain in place towering over her as she takes you deeper still before finally beginning to bob her head back and forth while her other hand begins caressing your toned stomach.

“I think I’d like to see that modification now, Rachel,” you groan out, one syllable after the other, as Rachel’s come extremely close to deepthroating you. Opening her eyes to glance up at you, Rachel bats her eyelids at you and begins to pull back.

“You sneaky sod,” she smiles up at you after spitting your spit-covered cockhead out of her mouth, “it was all a trick to have me get you ready!”

“Ready for what, Rachel? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you feign innocence.

“Your cock ready to be buried up my slutty asshole, that’s what!” Rachel cries out, and plants a soft kiss on the crown of your cock, “And you knew EXACTLY what I was talking about!”

“We could debate that,” you rub your hand against Rachel’s right cheek while talking, your other hand wrapping itself round your stiff dick, “Or you can get out of that chair and lean over the table.”

Groaning with lust, Rachel rises up fast enough to knock her chair over, then takes a step away from you and gives you a sultry look as she lies her upper body down on your dinner table, right next to her empty plate and full glass, and grabs hold of her asscheeks with both hands. She’s baring her teeth and still looking at you as she pulls her globular buttocks apart, and you move in behind her.

As you admire Rachel’s booty while she cranes her neck to keep looking at you, you can sense the corners of your mouth rising and your cock twitching when you spot the circular hole that Rachel’s cut in the back of her catsuit, one that leaves her puckered, glistening asshole and the skin around it completely exposed now that she’s holding her asscheeks apart.

“You know, Rachel, you might want to pull that zipper down, or the inside of your new catsuit’s going to get awfully messy…” you say as Rachel meets your gaze and smiles in a way that makes your cock jump.