Whitman and I were seated outdoors at a darling little Greek café late on a warm summer evening. I could barely walk after the sex we’d just finished up. After an hour or more of hot, hot, HOT play, (including Hitachi punishment) he finally filled me with hot cum and called it a night. We’d barely cleaned up, thrown on our clothes, and rushed out the door to make it to the restaurant before closing time.
As we enjoyed our wine, I was purring about how good Whitman’s big.fat.cock. had felt inside of me, and I was still throbbing and dripping, and so on and so forth as I rubbed his leg under the table.
As I continued basking in the dreamy afterglow, our dinner arrived…
and WHOA, it was way. too. much. food! I’d ordered a big crazy appetizer platter as my dinner, and it was at least enough for three people. Whitman cracked a joke to the waiter about trying to fatten me up. The waiter never missed a beat and said,
“You’re ABOUT TO GET a fat one!”
I’m assuming he meant if I ate all of that food (never in a million years, by the way). “HAH!” I thought. “I JUST HAD about all of the fat one I can handle!”