Camilla

To your great relief, Camilla's face appears - though the self-satisfied smirk is a new addition to her round features. She casually drops a couple of paper napkins by you, then says:

“You can come out once you're presentable, I believe both my daughters have gone looking for you.."

You awkwardly try to wipe off the cum stains you've left on your lap, before your eyes land on her sticky feet. As you clean her, you hear her humming appreciatively above.

When you're finally as presentable as you can reasonably expect to be, you crawl out from where Camilla is patiently holding the tablecloth up for you.

There is no real way to subtle escape from under a table on your hands and knees, and as you stagger to your feet - ears burning - you notice more than a few knowing or curious looks from the other guests.

"Sit, finish your plate.. " she says, "It's nearly cold I'm afraid, but you seemed so keen to jump ahead to dessert, I couldn't say no.."

She laughs, her tanned tits leaning on the table practically spilling out of her top as she does.

With less distraction and a clearer mind, you have more time to enjoy the meal. It's fairly standard fare, but even cold it's tasty and filling.

Camilla watches you eat, her head on her hand, and after she's ensured that you eat up, she reaches clear her throat.

"Are you looking for a job?"

Huh?

The confusion must be apparent on your face because she repeats herself.

"Are you looking for a job?"