Thankful For Getting Stuffed

All characters in this story are over the age of 18 and somewhat fictional.

***

So here it was, Thanksgiving Day, and I found myself in a strange man's bathroom, with my pantyhose pulled down around my knees, my dress hiked up over my hips, and that strange man's cock sliding in and out of my pussy. Well, in truth, he wasn't a complete stranger ... he was my boyfriend's father and I had met him two hours prior. But I'm getting ahead of myself, let me start at the beginning.

My name is Tiffany. I'm a sophomore at the University of Colorado, as is my boyfriend Dave. Dave and I have been going steady for only a few weeks. To be honest, I wasn't quite sure if we were a couple, because Dave still hadn't found his way into my pants yet. Oh, we had done some heavy petting during late night study sessions in the common room, but for some reason, Dave was taking the relationship real slow. Dave is very shy, something I found endearing at the start, but honestly, I had been getting downright frustrated in recent days. Perhaps that's why things progressed as they did.

It was Thanksgiving break and Dave had invited me to his parents home in Boulder. I'm an east coast girl, with no family nearby, so I happily agreed. It was a much preferred alternative to eating Thanksgiving dinner alone on campus.

I dressed up for the occasion -- both to impress Dave and his parents. You never know who your future in-laws might be, right? I was wearing a high-waisted, floral pattern skirt that I had designed myself. It accented my skinny waist, plump little ass, and long, slender legs perfectly. I complimented it with a long-sleeved, tie-front blouse, tan pantyhose, and black, high-heeled pumps. I had just finished applying the last of my make-up, when someone knocked at my dorm room door. That would be Dave.

I gave myself one last look in the mirror. I towered 5'10" in my pumps and twirled to see how the outfit moved with my 36C-27-36 frame. The skirt swished and swayed, while the blouse clung sensibly. I liked it. My long, brown hair tangled down over my shoulders. I thought about putting it up in a bun when Dave knocked again. "A waiting man is a wanting man," I smirked to my reflection.

I crossed the room and opened the door. Dave looked me up and down and whistled approvingly. I smiled, melted into his arms and gave him kiss. Dave pulled me in closer, not letting the kiss go, and let his hands roam slowly down my back. As the kiss lengthened and our tongues met, I could feel my nipples harden and poke against my blouse. I straddled Dave's knee and started to rub myself against him.

I tore myself away, a little breathless, and said, "My roomy's gone to her parents, do you want to come in?"

Dave stiffened suddenly. His hands stopped roaming across my ass, and he stepped out of my embrace. "Oh, we need to scoot, Tiffany, or we're going to be late for dinner."

I pouted.

"You look great, by the way," I smiled, but didn't tell him I wanted nothing more than to be late for Thanksgiving dinner. I grabbed my coat from the back of the door, my purse from the bed, and stepped out into the hall arm-in-arm with Dave.

Dave is handsome, like a J. Crew catalogue clothing model. He's muscular and fit, with short blond hair and startling blue eyes. And he's every bit a gentleman, opening my side of the Jeep door first and closing it behind me.

It was a 30-minute drive to his parent's house, and we made small talk all the way there. I admitted I was a little nervous.

"Oh, don't be, Tiffany," Dave said, his hand squeezing my knee to reassure me. "It's just Mom, Dad, my sister Becka and my grandparents."

I squirmed a little in my seat, hoping his hand would hike a bit higher on my thigh. I spread my legs apart, so my skirt rose slightly, but his hand didn't budge. Instead, his eyes stayed on the road, and he droned on about how his parents were looking forward to meeting me, and his grandparents were ... I didn't quite hear the rest. I was teasing my nipples to hardness under my leather jacket, tracing their edges with my forefinger and thumb. My eyes were closed, my nipples were hard, and I was damp between my legs. It really wouldn't take much to set me off, perhaps if Dave just caressed a little higher ...

The Jeep squealed to a stop and my eyes flew open. We were parked in front of a large folk Victorian styled house with a spacious yard. Dave was out of the Jeep and coming round to my side. I quickly smoothed my skirt back down, gathered my purse, and smiled as he opened the door for me.

Dave's parents were already at the door, ready to greet us. "Mom, Dad, this is Tiffany. Tiffany, this is my Mom and Dad."

"Oh, it's so nice to meet you, Tiffany. Dave has been telling us all about you this semester."

I was blushing profusely at the compliment and couldn't help notice how intensely Dave's father was looking at me. Nor could I help notice how handsome he was. He was tall and muscular, like Dave, but more rugged. Hair was mostly brown, silver in areas, and he had those same, piercing blue eyes.

I"m Doris," Dave's mom shook my hand, "and this is my husband, Frank."

"Nice to meet you both," I smiled sweetly, following her and Dave into the house. Frank closed the door behind us. I was taking off my coat when I felt Frank goose me from behind.

"I'll take your coat," he said, helping me out of the leather jacket. "Dave, yours, too."

Dave hadn't noticed, and honestly, I wasn't sure myself. Had he bumped into me while trying to help me out of my coat? No, that wasn't a bump. His hand definitely poked right between my ass cheeks! As he took my coat, our eyes met, and he winked at me. My heart fluttered quickly in my chest.

He turned and walked down a hallway with our coats. I so desperately wanted to walk after him, but turned to follow Dave and his mom into the kitchen instead. "Can I help you with anything?"

Dave's sister, Becka, was in the kitchen, mashing up a large pot of potatoes. She looked a year or two younger than Dave, with long blond hair, a beautiful face, and gorgeous white teeth.

"Hi, Tiffany. I'm Becka, Dave's sister. I think we're all set here. Bird is in the oven, for another five minutes, dinner should be on the table in ten. You guys are just in time!"

Dave mocked wiping a brow of sweat from his forehead, then grinned at me. I grinned back.

"Where are Grammy and Grampy?" Dave asked, giving his sister a kiss on the cheek. A twinge of jealousy flared in me. Yeah, I guess I was falling for this boy.

"Where else? They're playing with the Wii," Becka laughed, nodding to the adjacent TV room.

Dave grabbed my hand, and led me to the next room. I noticed that Dave's grandparents were spry and also good-looking, even in their twilight years. They were playing a game of Wii tennis, and it was amusing to watch them dance about the room.

'Dave and I are going to make beautiful babies,' was the first thought in my head. I mean honestly, every member of his family, young or old, was gorgeous.

"Oh, David, there you are! I'll give you a kiss after a beat your grandfather. And where's your girl?"

She turned to see me standing at the entrance, "Oh, there you are. Pretty thing, aren't you?"

"Ha!" Grampa yelled. "Fifteen, fifteen."

Grandma's attention returned to the game. "Oh, that's not fair, I was looking over my shoulder, you rascal!" She swatted him on his bum with her Wii remote.

"Hey, I need to get the points anyway I can get 'em!" Dave's grandfather turned to face me now, "Hello, pretty lady."

"This is Tiffany," Dave introduced me. "Tiffany, my grandparents."

Dave walked into the room, sitting down at the couch to watch the two pair off. I was about to go cozy up next to him when someone stepped up close behind me. I looked over my should and saw Dave's father. He winked, I smiled, and for some reason decided to not move so quickly to the couch.

The grandparents were back in their match, eyes glued to the television. Dave's attention was on the match, too. One of Frank's hands came to rest on my shoulder, the other hand reached around to cup my right breast. The move was so bold and so sudden, I just froze. His left hand massaged my shoulder softly, while his right hand probed the surface of my blouse, looking for the tell-tale evidence that I wasn't wearing a bra. He was rewarded with proof in an instant, as my nipples swelled and poked against the fabric.

I closed my eyes, conflicted. I didn't want him to stop, but I certainly didn't think THIS was appropriate. My boyfriend -- his son -- was less than 10' in front of us. His parents were just on the other side of the couch, and his wife and daughter were in the next room.

Reflexively, I found my hands reaching behind my back, groping for the bulge at the front of his pants. I realized only too late that this was encouraging him, not discouraging him. The motion caused my back to arch and my full breasts jutted forward more. Frank lowered his other hand, cupping both of my breasts and squeezing my nipples between forefinger and thumb.

"Dinner!" Becka called from the other room. Franks hands dropped immediately, and he stepped to my side, giving me a pat on my derriere as he did so.

"Okay, you two Wii addicts, that's the dinner call," Frank said.

"Oh, one more match," Grandma begged, still swatting at the virtual tennis ball with her Wii controller. Frank and Dave both laughed.

"You're worse than the kids! Dinner first. We'll have plenty of time to work off that Turkey afterwards."

Reluctantly, the grandparents paused the game and we all filed into the kitchen. I was still trying to wrap my head around what just happened. I leaned comfortably against Dave as he took my hand and guided me to the table.

Dinner smelled wonderful, and the table was set like a Norman Rockwell painting. Doris had set the turkey at the head end, and pulled out a chair for Dave's Grandfather. "Grampa, will you carve the bird?"

"Of course I will. You don't think I'd trust the lot of you with a knife this size, do you?" Dave's grandfather held a large knife menacingly. I saw Becka and Dave roll their eyes, and thought this quote must happen every Thanksgiving. Dave sat between myself and his grandmother. Doris and Becka sat on the opposite side of the table, and Frank sat at the opposite head of the table from Grandpa. We started passing around plates and platters of food.

"Frank, will you say Grace?" Doris asked. Frank nodded and bowed his head. We all did the same, although I nearly jumped when I felt Frank's hand rest upon my knee under the table.

"Dear Lord, thank you for this bounty ..."

Frank's hand squeezed my knee.

"... for which we are about to receive. We are thankful for all the gifts that you bring into our house ..."

His hand started to slide up my leg, causing goosebumps to ripple down my arms.

"... and particularly the joy of bringing together family and new friends."

Franks hand was sliding further up my thigh now, actually plowing my skirt up out of the way. Again, reflexively, I found myself spreading my legs, not closing them, encouraging this advance.

"... Please know that we are so thankful for this day ..."

His hand had slide forward, caressing my inner thigh. I opened my eyes to see if anyone was watching. No one was, all eyes were closed in prayer. It didn't look like Frank could move his hand any further, or he'd risk falling out of his chair. I muffled a laugh. I kicked off one shoe and slid my foot up Frank's calf slowly, this time intentionally, nothing reflexive about it.

"... and we look forward to the blessings before us. Amen."

"Amen," I whispered.

"Amen," the others echoed.

We then ate, drank and were merry. With heads no longer bowed in prayer, both of Frank's hands remained above the table. My foot continued to brush up and down his leg, and soon his foot was doing the same to mine. I couldn't believe it: I was intentionally playing footsies with a married man, while my boyfriend was sitting right beside me. I felt so dirty, so wanton and so incredibly turned on. Frank and I stole glances with each other throughout the entire meal, while carrying on conversations with the entire family.

My body was revved up in overdrive, and Frank's eyes were drawn frequently to my chest. I glanced down to notice my nipples bulging against my blouse, and blushed. Frank patted my knee under the table, and when I looked up at him, he just smiled and winked.

I wanted to fuck him. Right then, right there, on the god-damn, fucking table.

As the meal came to an end, Doris and Becka started to gather plates. I rose from the table, too.

"Let me help with the dishes," I said.

"Oh, we just bring them to the sink, the boys do all the cleaning," Doris said.

"That's right, because the women did all the cooking," Becka glared at her big brother.

Frank got up from the table, as well, carrying a load of plates and cups to the sink.

"Dave," I said, "go play Wii with your grandparents. I'll do dishes."

"No way," Dave said, laughing and getting up. "You're messing with the family ritual now, Tiffany."

"No, seriously, you should spend some time with your grandparents, I really don't mind."

"It's ok, Dave," Frank said from across the kitchen, "We'll have this done in a jiffy and be joining you in no time."

"You sure, Dad?"

Frank locked eyes with me. "Positive."

"Okay, but call me back in, Tiffany, if he talks your ear off," Dave said, heading for the TV room where both grandparents were already at their re-match, with Doris and Becka cheering them on.

I carted dishes to the counter, while Frank filled left-overs into tupperware containers and started filling the sink with soapy water. I was trying to figure my next move here. Frank's parents, children and wife were in the next room. I was horny as hell, and the man who had made me that way was standing at the sink doing dishes.

'Don't think, just do,' I thought to myself.

I walked up beside Frank, lifted one arm as he scrubbed at a platter, and then ducked under it. I turned so I was facing him, my back to the sink, his arms around me, still holding the platter. I put both of my arms around his neck, and pulled him down to and kissed him long and hard. I could feel the bulge between his legs already, and my nipples were rock hard.

Breaking the kiss, I told him, "You wash the dishes ..."

I slowly lowered myself to my knees, unzipping his fly as I went down.

"I'm going to wash this."

He wore grey boxers, but already his swollen cock was peeking it's way outside the material. I was thankful for that, it meant I wouldn't have to waste precious time tugging the beast out. I just took that big meaty cock in my mouth, and sucked him up and down. Quickly, Frank got hard. His cock grew and grew, fatter and longer.

I lapped his shaft with my tongue while stroking him with my hand. Frank tried to take it all in stride, returning his attention to the dishes. Between us and the doorway to the TV room there was a large kitchen island. I figured that if anybody walked in on us, the cabinet island would hide me, at least long enough for me to duck out and say I had been picking up a utensil that fell on the floor.

I found myself finding ways to distract Frank from his task. Sucking him down my throat sometimes caused him to stop washing dishes and grip the back of my head. Licking the underside of his shaft while stroking him made him toss his head back and moan. Still, he did his best to keep busy with the dishes. The clinking and rinsing of the plates would hopefully muffle the sounds I was making, sucking and slurping on his cock.

I alternated between acts of lathering his dick with big gobs of spittle and then sucking it all off, while sucking him deep down my throat. I gripped his shaft with one hand, stroking him as I bobbed my head back and forth.

"Mmmmmmm," I moaned. After weeks of dating Dave, and not getting hardly past second base, this is exactly what I needed: having a man's big, fat cock gliding up and down my throat!

I love sucking cock. I love making a man hard and feeling their leg and stomach muscles spasm as I exhibit my oral talents. I was moaning and slurping and gobbling hungrily at Frank's meaty shaft, stroking him up and down, licking his cock all over.

"Jesus, you're good," Frank whispered hoarsely.

I looked up at Frank, while sucking on his cock and flicking my tongue across the sensitive underside near the tip of his cock. There was pure lust in his eyes. I pulled away from his cock, with a long dribble of spit dangling from my lips to the tip of his cock.

"Cum in my mouth," I whispered back.

I started jerking off his cock with ringing, twisting motions of my hand. Each time my hand stroked to the base of his shaft, I vacuum sucked him deep into my mouth. His breaths were coming in shallow gasps now and I could tell he was on the edge.

"Yah ... yah," he grunted.

"Cummmm," I whispered, stroking him faster, sucking harder.

His hand was tangled in my long hair now and his hips were thrusting toward my eager mouth. I could feel him building, building, building ... and then finally bursting in my mouth. That warm, sweet liquid splashed against the back of my throat with a powerful burst. I sucked, swallowed and licked as each subsequent burst jetted out.

"Ohhh, so good," I grinned up at him. I licked his cock clean, kissed the tip, and then tucked it back in his boxers. I stood up, zipping his fly to cover all evidence.

I lifted one finger to his lips and said, "I better go freshen up in the bathroom. Hope you can manage here on your own."

I really wasn't sure what I looked like, but risked a quick peek into the TV room.

"Who's winning?" I asked.

"Grammy, of course," Becka said. "Are you guys done? We're thinking of doing a game of Pictionary."

None of their heads moved, they were all glued to the TV screen. I looked back at Frank, standing at the sink scrubbing away, a dish towel tossed over one shoulder.

"Almost, maybe five more minutes."

"Need help?" Dave asked, finally looking my way. I turned and called over my shoulder, "No, we're good. Give us five more minutes and we'll be along."

I returned to the kitchen.

"Frank, where's the bathroom?"

"Use the one in the master bedroom. Straight down the hall, last door on the right."

I walked down the hall. The last doorway was a pair of double doors which lead to the downstairs master bedroom. There was a large king size bed here, some coats had been draped across it. A brief twang of guilt swept over me, realizing that this is where Frank fucked his wife.

"Oh, well," I cajoled myself aloud. "At least I didn't fuck him, it was just a little oral play."

I entered the spacious master bathroom. It was gorgeous, with a large, two-person jacuzzi tub, shower, dual sinks, separate toilet room and separate walk-in closet. I looked at myself in the mirror.

"Not bad," I said aloud. And it wasn't. My hair was tussled out of place, but not horribly so. I had some how managed to not get any cum or spittle over my blouse. I rinsed my face with water from the faucet, and then dried it with a towel. I combed my hair and then set to applying more lipstick. That's the way I was when Frank entered the bathroom behind me.

I watched in the mirror as he closed the bathroom door behind him.

"Ahh, Mr. Tuckett, your --"

"Call me Frank," he said, unzipping his fly, unclasping the top of his trousers, and letting them drop to the floor.

I licked my lips subconciously. His boxers were still tenting forward.

"Your family is just down the hall --"

"Completely engrossed in a silly console game," he said, sliding his boxers down to his ankles. To my amazement, his cock was still stiff. I wasn't even aware of it at the moment, but my hands were sliding my pantyhose down over my hips.