Suppertime Fuck

After a long day, Penpush's mysterious upload captures a clandestine encounter. A dimly lit dining room, two silhouettes, and the soft clinking of cutlery against porcelain. Then, a hushed whisper, "Let's skip dessert." A chair scrapes back, a zipper lowers, and the rhythm of flesh meeting flesh begins. Moans muffled by napkins, hands gripping the tablecloth, and the scent of sex mingling with the remnants of their meal.

• fuck
• supper

• Unknown