“Delicious bolognese, Mrs. Walters,” I said, smiling across the table. I was nervous meeting Sammy’s parents but so far the dinner was going fairly well. Mr. and Mrs. Walters were from old money, meaning that instead of a home they had a mansion and were only a hair’s breadth away from having servants.

“It’s an old family recipe. Sammy will make it for you one day, or have people make it for you,” Mrs. Walters said with a smile. I could see where Sammy got her good looks; Mrs. Walters was a true American beauty, with soft skin and a lithe figure, complete with pearls and a thousand dollar dress. Mr. Walters was very much her counterpart: the strong quarterback type with the muscle slowly running to fat as the years passed by. I wouldn’t have been surprised to see an old letter jacket framed and on the wall in his study.

“I do hope that Sammy is going to be up for some dinner once she’s finished,” Mrs. Walters said with a winning smile. I looked down beneath the table, where my girlfriend’s head was bobbing level with my crotch. It wasn’t a proper dinner without Sammy on her knees sucking my cock beneath the table.

“I haven’t filled her stomach much today so she’ll probably be up for some,” I said with a laugh. Sammy’s moist mouth around my cock was a familiar and comforting feeling; although I was alone at the table with the parents, it felt comforting having her close at hand.

“So what sports are you into? Do you watch the football? Or are you more of a rugby fan?” Mr. Walters said in a booming voice. I reached down and slipped my free left hand into Sammy’s cleavage while my right continued twirling spaghetti. She made a slurping noise and I shuddered as her skilful tongue ran up and down the sensitive areas on the underside of my cock.

“More rugby, Sir,” I said. I had studied up on the players before I came, just to get in the man’s good books. Usually I didn’t care much for sports, but I had to make a good impression.

“That’s the sprit, lad!” He said with a laugh. I felt something rise inside me and my groping hand squeezed hard on her baby-soft breast. I looked down for a moment, saw her auburn hair rustling as she went to town on my dick, and closed my eyes tightly.

“Ahh… ahhh!” I couldn’t help but make a noise as I exploded deep inside her throat, painting her tonsils white. She gulped heavily below the table, the noise evident in the suddenly-quiet atmosphere.

She continued guzzling long after I had finished, and I playfully tugged a lock of her hair to try and get her to stop.

“I don’t think she’ll need spaghetti,” Mr. Walters said in the sudden silence. “Judging by the swallowing noises, that’s what I call a full meal!”

We all laughed as I tried to tug Sammy up above the lip of the table. She eventually obliged and appeared with a small trickle of jizz drooling out of the corner of her mouth. She was a beautiful girl at twenty-two, with a pearl necklace (I suppose in another sense as well now) and a form-fitting black dress with ample cleavage room. She smiled at her family and held out two fingers in a “peace” sign as they continued laughing.

It wasn’t long before Mrs. Walters was pushed beneath the table to service her husband and Sammy took up her own meal, eating hungrily. Despite what her father had said, she hadn’t had any lunch and whatever I could muster up to shoot down her throat was a poor replacement for a meal. I reached over and held her hand, and she clasped it back warmly. Mr. Walters seemed happy at that, and we began discussing rugby as his wife, Sammy’s mother, began on him below.

All in all, the first meeting with the parents had gone well.

End of Part 1.