I slumped on the breakroom stool, wiped from dusting the open space. Kitchenette gleamed. Glass counter last. Printer hummed in the corner. ‘Almost done, then shower.’ Josh, my boyfriend three years, boss too. Spark gone. Needed rough fuck. Late shift end. Superbowl party in conference room soon. Horny fire burned. Toy? No, real cock. We screw risky—parking lot, stairwell. Thrill explodes me.
Clock ticked two hours. Polished counter, mirrors. Coffee aroma mixed my perfume. Stripped naked. Shower steam rose. Caressed tits in foggy glass. 95C, perky. Dried auburn hair. Slipped red skirt, tight white blouse. Buttons strained. No bra. Turned, admired hourglass. 23, 5’4″, legs killer. Blue eyes, cock-sucking lips. Hips swayed practice.
The Building Tension
Car crunched parking lot. Josh burst in, pumped. Superbowl. Raiders-Dolphins. Ben trailed, 6’2″, hungrier eyes. He intro’d us. I jumped Josh. Legs wrapped hips. Kissed hard. Felt… nothing. Game buzz.
“Hey Ben.” Blush hit. “Kiss for me?” He grinned.
“Snacks, babe?” Josh eyed beer case. I sashayed kitchenette. Skirt hugged ass. Blouse knotted navel. Tanned belly flashed.
Conference room setup. Sofa faced TV. Frosted doors to breakroom. Bets piled with chips. Mouse clicks echoed open space.
“Volume down!” I yelled. Doors shut. Clicked locked. Frustrated. Bent serving nachos. Tits swung. Josh glued screen. Ben ogled nipples thru blouse. Heat pooled.
Sat between. Leaned Ben for magazine. Cleavage dive. Eye fuck. Smiled wicked. Back arched. Navel ring glinted. Breath heaved tits.
“Dinner prep.” Wink Ben. He froze.
Kitchenette. Mixer whirred empty. Coffee-perfume haze. Ben entered. “Game loud!”
“Help me, Benji.” Ice pop out. Tongue swirled slow. Licked tip. Eyes locked. Pushed deep throat. Saliva trailed. Fed him melt.
Acosta counter. Kiss crushed. Tongues battled. Legs hooked. Ground bulge. “Big equipment.”
“Surprise.” Cock throbbed. Bit neck. Hands mauled tits thru blouse. Rough. Switched mixer off. Humped harder.
The Wild Explosion
Zipper rasped. Kneeled. Yanked pants. Huge cock sprang. Bigger Josh. Hands stroked. Licked shaft long. Balls swirled. “Suck it.”
“Taste good.” Lips stretched gland. Jaw wide. Veins pulsed.
“Open frosted doors. Josh close. Excites me.”
“Crazy!” But obeyed. Slid quiet. “Ben helps dinner, babe!”
“Cool,” Josh yelled. Touchdown roar.
Doors ajar. Ben’s cock inches throat. Deep throated. Gagged soft. Slurped loud. Printer whirred cover. Heart hammered.
Stood. Skirt hiked. No panties. Bent counter. “Fuck me. Hard. Now.”
Cock slammed pussy. Wet grip. Stretched full. “Bigger than boss cock. Pound slut hole.”
Thrusts brutal. Counter banged. Tits bounced free. Nipples pinched. Coffee smell, sweat, perfume choked air. Frosted silhouette—Josh feet away. “Gonna cum?”
“Fill me.” Clit rubbed. Orgasms crashed. Walls milked. He grunted, flooded deep.
Pulled out. Cum dripped thighs. Fixed skirt. Blouse tucked. Wiped counter. Smiled mirror. Grabbed tray.
“Food’s up, boys.” Sauntered conference. Sat Josh lap. Ben smirked. Game blared. Pulse raced. Secret burned. Back to work Monday. Ambitious. Untouched.