Crash Your Party Dress

An eBook By Adrian Hunter.

Do they think I'm his mistress? His prostitute? His slave?

Then she realized that she was all three

Ron smiled at her across the table

"You look absolutely ravishing, Isabel."

She felt another blush creep into her cheeks.

"Can you imagine what every man in this room is thinking right now? You've blown their circuits, my dear. And their wives will probably despise you later tonight after the lights go out."

This concept magnified Isabel's mortification to the point where she could barely croak out her order to the leering waiter.

After they finished their salads, Ron reached into his pocket and slipped something round and hard under the table to Isabel

"Why don't you excuse yourself to the ladies' room?" he grinned.

"Oh, and you may need some of this."

He reached into the butter dish, scooped some out, and passed it to her as she stood up.

Isabel hurried across the restaurant and followed the signs to the restrooms. She was relieved when she found the women's lavatory empty.

Once safely inside a stall, she examined the object in her hand. It was a wooden ball about an inch around. Attached to it was a flat round base the size of a quarter.

She looked at the butter in her other hand.

It slowly dawned on her that she was holding her first butt plug.

Isabel began breathing heavily as she greased the sphere.

Reaching underneath the miniskirt, she positioned the ball against her puckered hole, gulped, and eased it into her rectum.

Her virgin ass clenched tightly around the intruder, sending new, indescribable feelings of fullness through her gut and groin. When she stood up straight, she uttered a soft moan of pain and pleasure.

"Are you all right?"

The strange voice jolted her back to the reality of her situation

"Yes, thanks," she replied.

The woman fixing her hair at the sink glared at Isabel as she washed the excess butter off her gloved hands.

"You should be arrested," the woman hissed.

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