I’m Martine, 38, married, no kids. Executive assistant in our small firm on the village edge. 5’6″, 143 lbs, curvy hips, 95D tits that snag stares. Husband travels, leaves me bored. Sex rare, vanilla. Then renovation hit. Company courtyard pool project. Francesco, chubby short guy. Momo, cuter. Unskilled, but hot. I bossed them hard. Rain delayed.
Morning. Shower in office bathroom. Light robe clings, too small for my curves. Peek out conference room window. Printer whirs outside. Mouse clicks staccato. Coffee aroma mixes with my perfume, thick tension. There. Bushes by courtyard. Momo pisses. Hand strokes slow. His cock. Massive. Even soft, fills his palm. Bigger than husband’s tiny prick. Stunned. Hypnotized. Stroke stops. He turns. Grins. Devours me.
Tension Builds in the Open Space
Blush burns. Hide. Door creaks open. ‘Madame?’ Momo’s voice. Heart pounds. Ten minutes. No go. Fix robe. Step out. Glass walls everywhere. Voice firm, shaky. ‘What?’
‘Electric issue. Francesco at depot. And… you liked what you saw.’ Shock. He smirks. I flush, eyes down. He pushes. ‘Don’t play coy. No hubby, no boss.’ Shorts drop. Cock swings. Huge. I stare. ‘Touch it.’ Hypnotized. Hand reaches. Soft skin. Electric. ‘Go on.’ I stroke. Grows monstrous. He rips robe. Tits spill. Grabs one. Tongue invades.
‘Fuck me.’ Words escape. Insane. He spins me. Against glass wall. Slams in. Pussy soaked, no pain. Fills me huge. ‘Oh fuck yes!’ Thrusts brutal. Tits swing. Eyes shut. Hand on right tit. Eyes snap. Francesco back. Grins. ‘Told ya, slut. Big tits. Share.’ Pulls thick stubby cock. Yanks hair. Shove in mouth. Sweaty, musky. Gag. Then suck pro. They pound. Switch. Positions blur.
Knees finally. Suck frantic. Cum floods. Swallow some. Rest coats tits. They knead rough. Sanity hits. Dash to shower. Peek. They work casual. I hide. Dread hubby. Silence him.
Explosive Fuck in the Conference Room
Next day. Guilt chews. Head to his downtown office. Door. Voices. His. Her. Associate slut. ‘Fuck me harder!’ Rage boils. He cheats rampant. My slip? Nothing. Revenge brews.
Home. Strip. Raid closet. Tight white blouse, thin straps strain tits. Black mini, side slit. Back to office. Courtyard inspect. Printer hums. Door clicks locked behind. Coffee-perfume haze. New faces: young Polish brute, older thug. Eyes meat-hungry. Francesco stares. Tits nearly pop. Thighs flash.
‘Progress?’ Voices low. Sweat beads. I crouch wide. Shaved pussy bare. Tits flop out. Francesco grabs. ‘Need service?’ Eyes lock. Cocks out. Three. Gobble greedy. Stripped fast. One lays courtyard concrete. Straddle. Cock spears ass. Pain jolts. Another pussy. Third mouth. Pound savage. Switch endless. Delivery guy arrives. Joins. Blasts load.
Orgasms crash. Cum-drenched. Rise. Stroll naked past glass. Eyes burn. Shower. Desk. Emails click. Mask on. Normal.
Relief sweet. Cook his fave. Vengeance done. Weeks pass. Mail drops. Photos. Me railed in conference room. Gangbanged courtyard. Heart stops.