Dicked-Down At The Dinner Party

Ken Feels kicks open the front door with a smirk and four extra guys behind him, yelling "Surprise, honey!" like a total genius who definitely planned this. Penelope stands there smiling through her teeth at John Strong, Jack Vegas, Scotty P, Donny Sins, and Ryan Driller, but the moment the coworkers turn away she shoots Ken a look that says the couch will be cold for weeks. Dinner starts fine—napkins folded, wine poured, polite laughter. Underneath the tablecloth, though, Penelope slides off one shoe and runs her bare foot up John’s shin. His fork clatters once. She reaches for Scotty next, fingers walking up his thigh until she finds him half-hard already. He tries to spear a piece of chicken without choking. Jack Vegas mumbles something about the weather while Penelope unbuttons him with her other hand, slow and patient, like she’s reading braille. Ken talks strategy numbers to Ryan Driller, oblivious, until Penelope scoots sideways, frees Donny, and leans in like she’s dropping her napkin. Her head disappears for a noisy second; Donny swallows a groan, eyes watering, knuckles white on the table edge. When she pops back up she wipes her mouth and asks if anyone needs more bread. Ken finally notices the rigid postures, the sudden silences, the weird rhythm of forks hitting plates. He ducks down, sees his wife’s hand around Scotty’s cock, and bolts upright red-faced. Penelope doesn’t even blink. She snaps, "You drag five strangers into my house with zero warning and expect me to smile? Get your ass over here and make it right, or pack a bag." The table goes dead quiet. Ken glances at the hard-ons around him, then at his wife’s raised eyebrow. He loosens his tie, mutters "Fine," and drops to his knees beside her chair. The coworkers exhale, relieved and already unbuckling, while Penelope leans back, lifts her dress, and gives Ken the first real smile of the night. "That’s more like it," she says, guiding him where she wants him while the others wait their turn. The pasta’s getting cold, but nobody cares.