My First Time with the Hulking Technician: Breaking Free in the Restaurant Backroom
In the back office of my new restaurant, heart racing, I knew I wouldn’t turn back. Dominique loomed there, his thick fingers on my sketches, eyes devouring my half-open dress. No bra, no panties—just thin fabric clinging to my flushed skin. I’d teased him all morning, flashing thighs from my chair, feeling his stare burn between my legs. Now, alone behind the closed glass door, my pulse thundered in my ears. Fear twisted with hunger. What if someone walked in? Pierre’s son Yann due any minute? But that massive bulge in his work blues called me. His hand slid into my cleavage, cupping my bare breast. I gasped, nipples hardening instantly. His lips crashed onto mine, tongue invading rough and hot. No more games. My body betrayed me, pussy slick and aching. I tugged his zipper down, unleashing a monster cock—thick as my wrist, veined, throbbing. First time seeing something so primal. My hands trembled wrapping around it, skin velvet over steel. Innocence cracking right there.
He spun my chair, ripped open my dress. Fingers plunged into my soaked folds, thumb circling my clit. I moaned into his mouth, fumbling his shaft, stroking clumsily from excitement. Dropped to my knees, heart slamming. That huge purple head stared back. Lips stretched wide, barely fitting it in. Tongue swirled the salty tip, veins pulsing against my cheeks. Gagged as it hit my throat, but swallowed deeper, greedy. His groans fueled me—hands kneading my tits, pinching nipples till they stung sweet. Fingers dipped to his heavy balls, then slicked back, probing his tight ass. He bucked, roaring as I fingered him deep. Cum erupted—first hot jet flooding my mouth, choking me. Swallowed what I could, rest splattering face and breasts in thick ropes. Wiped it, grinning wicked. But he wasn’t done. Pushed me onto the desk, legs splayed. That beast nudged my entrance, stretching me wide. Inch by burning inch, splitting me open. Never felt so full, walls clenching in shock and bliss. He thrust slow at first, building, then hammered home—pubes grinding my clit. Waves crashed; I screamed, nails in his hairy back. He flooded me, cum jetting deep, triggering my shattering orgasm.
The Approach
Showered quick, sticky seed trickling down thighs. Dressed, calm on surface, but inside—changed. That clumsy rush, the raw stretch of my first massive invasion, shattered some wall. No more just teasing fantasies with Pierre or poolside glances. Real flesh, sweat, grunts—opened floodgates. Alain would love hearing this later, our swinging bond stronger. But me? Innocence gone, replaced by hungry confidence. Watching Dominique finish the sign outside, cock twitching at the thought of more. Yann coming? Pierre? A sly smile crept. Provocation my new game. Ready for whatever wild horizon next.
