Dinner was torture.

Mom chatted about her day, laughing at some story from her friends. I sat across from Marcus, nodding and smiling like everything was normal. But under the table his foot rubbed against my leg. Every time I looked at him, his eyes promised what was coming later. My pussy stayed wet the whole meal. I kept shifting in my seat, feeling his cum from earlier still leaking out.

“Everything okay, sweetie?” Mom asked me at one point.

“Yeah,” I said quickly. “Just tired.”

Marcus smirked behind his glass of wine. “She had a long day.”

I wanted to kick him. Or climb across the table and sit...