Something Under the Table

You feel something against your legs. Looking down, you see Sam, grinning up at you from under the table.

“Sam?” You whisper at her, trying not to draw Heather’s attention. “What are you-”

“Relax, Michael.” She’s undoing your belt now, her eyes half-lidded and her grin smug. “I’m just enjoying myself. And helping you to do the same. Just sit back….” She presses her hand against your belly, splaying her fingers as she gently pushes you back into your chair. “And let me take care of you, captain.” As she quietly unzips your pants, you try to look as nonchalant as possible, barely letting out a hiss as she pulls down your trousers and boxers to free your cock.

Stuffing another mouthful of cereal into your mouth, you try to look contemplative as you feel the redhead start to lick your dick like it’s a popsicle, your semi quickly becoming a full hard-on under her ministrations. When she wraps her lips around the tip and gently sucks, you struggle to stifle a groan.

Fighting to put your focus on your meal rather than the heavenly sensation of your girlfriend’s lips wrapped around your cock, you almost fail to notice Heather sitting back down.

“So how long have you had this place?”

“A-around three years?” You find that the conversation helps you to fight the surge of pleasure that results as Sam’s tongue dances around the crown of your dick. “Dad won the lottery not long before I entered Ravenwood.”

“Oh!” The brunette smiles and nods. “So you haven’t really been here much.”

“Nah.” You’re starting to enjoy this. Talking normally with a pretty girl while your girlfriend gives you an incredible blowjob under the table is fucking great. “I spent a lot of time at the apartment. I came back here from time to time, usually on weekends, but this place is still a little weird to me.” You shrug. “I’ll probably get used to it quickly enough, though.”

Your lack of difficulty with this interaction apparently frustrates Sam. Or she just wants to kill you. The intensity of her ministrations increases, her head bobbing faster and taking you deeper even as her clever little tongue flicks around you. Each plunge into the warmth of her mouth is like a punch to the gut, and even if you can’t see her face you can feel her smiling as you **** on your food.

“Are you okay?” Heather gives you a concerned look from across the table.

“Yeah, yeah.” Taking a deep breath, you cough to clear your windpipe. “Just got a little down the wrong pipe.”

“Oh.” She doesn’t look entirely convinced. “That’s all?”

“Yep.” You feel like Sam would be laughing right now if there wasn’t a risk of getting caught. Granted, it would probably feel amazing to have her laughing around your dick, but you don’t feel like getting found out by Heather right now. Not that you would be opposed if she wanted to watch, or even join in….

No! Bad! Stop thinking about a threesome and make sure she doesn’t get suspicious!

“So….”

“So.” Heather looks somewhat confused now.

“I don’t know. Are you comfortable?”

“Well, yeah.” She huffs out a laugh. “This place is like a palace compared to the apartments. Even the guest rooms are fancier than my room back home.” Her smile fades a little.

You notice Sam pause in her quest to swallow your cock for a moment before she picks up again with renewed vigor.

The brunette says something, apparently to no one in particular, but you’re distracted by the sensations the redhead is causing. Her tongue lashes your skin, her lips seal tight around your cock, and each time she pushes herself farther down onto you you feel as though you’re in heaven.

And then, just as you feel like you can’t take anymore, she pulls back. Her nimble fingers wrap around your shaft and pump frantically, and her lips are drawn tight around the tip. Disguising the groan you release with a cough, you spill into her mouth, each pulse releasing more of your seed onto her tongue. As she pulls back, you glance down as surreptitiously as you can manage, catching a mischievous look on her face before she opens her mouth.

The sight of the girl on her knees, her mouth open and filled with your come, is almost enough to give you a heart attack. When she closes her mouth with a smile and visibly swallows, opening her mouth and sticking out her tongue to show you that she really did so, you feel lightheaded. Blinking numbly, you dimly notice her pull up your boxers and pants and zip you up before she disappears again, and you notice that Heather is staring off into the middle-distance.

“S-something wrong?” Your words seem to shock her out of some internal pondering, because she visibly jumps.

“Oh. No, no, I’m fine.” She frowns. “Just thinking about something.” The conversation is interrupted by the sound of the door, and the brunette smiles slightly. “Morning, Sam.”

“Hey, Heather.” Your (devious, cruel, nymphomaniac) girlfriend leans down to kiss you on the cheek before whispering in your ear, her breath making a little blood rush to your cheeks. “So, was I a good little cocksucker, captain?” At the sound of your breath hitching, she grins. Luckily, you manage to muster enough self-control to meet her gaze just as Alex and Meg enter the room.

“The best, babe.”