The breakroom door clicks shut, locked with a sharp snap. Printer hums faintly down the hall. Coffee scent mixes with my perfume, thick and heady. Sélim paces like a caged beast, eyes wild, sliding over Jimy. He’s feral, not the usual guy. Hierarchy crumbles here, stress twisting into pure lust.
I grab his cock, hard and throbbing. Drop to my knees on the linoleum. ‘Calm down, Sélim… calm,’ I whisper, sucking him deep. My lips slide wet, tongue swirling. He groans low, breath ragged. Doesn’t speak. Just tenses, hips bucking.
The Building Tension
Printer spits paper outside. Mouse clicks echo. His growls build—no hiding. He erupts in my mouth, hot spurts. I pump every drop, spit discreetly into the sink. He’s calmer, but not sated. Eyes still hungry.
Jimy slipped out smartly. Probably peeked through the keyhole. Comes back with three Fanta cans. We crack them open, fizz hissing. ‘You okay?’ he asks, neutral.
‘Nah, not really,’ Sélim snaps. ‘I can cum eight times a night, Jimy. This doesn’t mean I’m done wanting your ass.’
Jimy pauses twenty seconds. ‘Yeah, I get it. But not now. Not ready. Maybe later.’
Sélim’s eyes roll mad. ‘I’m out or I’ll lose it.’ Pulls on his shorts and sneakers, slams the door. Boom.
‘Your buddy scares me,’ Jimy says, sipping Fanta.
‘Yeah, he’s off. But harmless. It’ll pass.’ Coffee aroma lingers, my perfume clinging to skin.
We sip, naked on the floor. I ask how he landed as our gardener. He relaxes, dreads swaying. Only child from a rural village near Lyon. Poor farmer parents. Quit school at 14. Apprenticed, then town hall gig. Now here for better pay. 19 soon. Hostel room. Reggae fanatic—Bob Marley. Strokes his dreads proudly.
‘Guys built like you? Rare,’ I say. ‘Sélim’s obsessed. Tell him to lick your feet, he’d do it. But you won’t give up your ass… he can’t handle it.’
Jimy nods silent.
‘Ever done stuff before?’ I probe.
‘Yeah. Village mates jerking off, sucking me. Best was at the hostel.’
‘Tell me.’
Climax and Confessions
First week, showers. Naked casually. Neighbor’s towel drops—big dick, hard from my stare. He’s Lebanese, like Sélim’s vibe. Invites me for tea. His room? Paradise. Mine’s a dump.
Face lights up. Tea hits hard. We bond. He shares war stories. Knock—friend Malik enters. They kiss, chat Arabic. ‘Doesn’t shock you?’ No. He’s gay for Malik. Both sweet. I’m naked in slippers. Malik eyes me intense. ‘You’re beautiful.’ Sits close, strokes shoulder. Souphy joins. Towel falls. They admire, talk over me. Strip, kiss me, suck me. Magic tongues mingle.
Malik boils water. Souphy plays oriental tunes. Candles flicker. Djellabas on. Patience, more tea, sweets. I ache to cum.
They quiz my kinks gently. Watch them first. Tender strip, caresses, tickles raising goosebumps. Kisses everywhere. Malik hairy chest, Souphy smooth—waxed for him. 69 artistry. Rimjobs staring at me. Malik fucks Souphy joyful, orgasms roaring. I shoot untouched on Souphy’s face. They lick it loving. Now nightly threesomes.
‘Never fucked you?’
‘No. Not ready. Saving my ass for someone special.’
‘Me?’
‘Nah,’ he laughs.
Spiritual, hot. Respect it.
‘Any idea who?’
‘Vigorous yet fragile guy.’
Bosses on tractor? One 40s, boozy. Weekly blowjob or handjob for peace. Loves outdoor work.
Door bangs. Sélim back. Finds us 69 on floor. My mouth full of Jimy’s cock, his on mine. Printer whirs. We explode. ‘Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmhhhhhh!!!’ Cum floods, bodies shudder. Adrenaline peaks. Risk of surprise—pure thrill.