The Dinner Party

"Hurry," I panted, squeezing her as best I could with my ass.

"Hurry . . . ing."

She had a rhythm going now, pulling out smoothly and thrusting back deeply, long-dicking my ass with her bloated cock, raking my prostate with each plunge. The only sounds in the room were the slap of flesh on flesh, and a solitary grunt from me every time she hit bottom.

It felt exquisite, like nothing else, the feeling of my asshole stretched tightly around her hot organ, and the feeling of Aya forcing herself deep inside me, over and over. I didn't push back against her; instead I let her take me, her small hands on my hips pulling me tight with every sodomizing stroke.

My asshole began to make squelching sounds as she thrust up me, and my steady grunts began getting louder despite my efforts to bite them off. I couldn't hold back the sound, the sensation of having her large cock churning up my guts overriding any semblance of self control.

In and out she thrust, my anus gripping her tightly, my moans and the wet slap of her cock in my ass filling my ears, and the smell of our fucking filling my nose even over the rich food.

"Wanted to fuck you all day, thinking of fucking you all day. Trying to listen to briefs, and the only thing . . . I could think of was getting home and filling your ass with girlcum."

Looking up I could see our reflection in the mirror on the wall in the dining room. It was strange, looking at myself like that, watching me splayed across the island with Aya's cute Asian body behind me, still fully dressed, pounding my ass like a prison rapist. She looked possessed.

She looked beautiful.

I forgot about our pending dinner guests. Time ceased to exist. The only thought in my mind was her large tool sliding effortlessly in and out of my bowels. Deep inside my balls a heavy tingle started to grow and it seemed to increase as she hammered into me, pushing out and enveloping more and more of my body.

"God, David, oh god I love fucking you. Do you love it when I fuck you?"