She stands behind me, her nakedness pressing against mine. I feel erect nipples and wetness between legs. She breathes into my ear, edging my aching cock.

“Cum for me, love. Let it all go!”

I am close. She cups my balls and whispers, “Good boy,” and I scream in ecstasy as a week’s denial explodes on the slice of pumpkin pie placed carefully on the chair before me.  When I am empty, it is drenched in cream.

Her wife, clad only in pearls, kneels, salivating, with hungry eyes and fork in hand.