The bell above the diner door jingled, but no one looked up—until she walked in. The stale scent of coffee and grease hung thick in the air, but it was nothing compared to the sudden charge that crackled through the room the moment Tess stepped inside. Her red stiletto boots—sharp, polished, and wicked—clicked against the linoleum with deliberate precision, each step a promise. The crimson mini-dress clung to her like a second skin, the hem riding so high it barely covered the curve of her ass, the lace of her garter belt peeking out with every sway of her hips. Her breasts, full and heavy, strained against the white silk corset, the deep cleavage an open invitation. The pink nylons sheathed her long legs in a glossy sheen, the seams running straight up the back, disappearing beneath the dress’s dangerously short flare. Her hair, a waterfall of crimson, spilled over her shoulders in perfect waves, framing a face painted with sin—dark lashes, flushed cheeks, and lips so red they looked freshly kissed.
The diner’s usual hum of conversation faltered. A fork clattered against a plate. Someone coughed, throat suddenly dry. But Tess didn’t notice—or if she did, she didn’t care. Her gaze swept the room, landing on the back booth where two men sat, their broad shoulders nearly blocking out the flickering neon EAT sign behind them. Rick, his dark beard rough, his arms crossed over a chest that stretched his flannel shirt tight, was already staring. His eyes burned with something raw, something hungry. Beside him, Alex—taller, quieter, but no less intense—leaned back, his long fingers tapping against the chipped Formica tabletop. His gaze was slower, more assessing, but no less predatory.
Tess didn’t hesitate. She sauntered toward them, her hips rolling with practiced ease, the dress riding up just enough to flash the lace edge of her panties. The air between the tables thickened, the scent of diesel and fried food giving way to something darker, something muskier. She stopped at their booth, one hand resting on the back of the empty seat across from them, her fingers curling slightly, nails painted the same deep red as her lips. “Mind if I join you, boys?” Her voice was a purr, low and smoky, the kind of sound that wrapped around a man’s spine and tugged.
Rick didn’t answer with words. His gaze dropped to her chest, lingering on the swell of her cleavage before dragging lower, over the taut fabric of her dress, the way it hugged the curve of her cock—still hidden, but there, the outline just visible if a man knew what to look for. His lips curled into a smirk, slow and knowing. “Ain’t no seats left, doll.” He reached out, his calloused fingers brushing against the inside of her thigh, just above the knee. The heat of his touch burned through the nylon. “But I reckon you didn’t come here to sit anyway.”
Tess exhaled, a soft sound that might’ve been a laugh, might’ve been a whimper. She didn’t pull away. Instead, she let her legs part just an inch, giving him better access. His fingers slid higher, tracing the lace trim of her garter belt before dipping beneath the hem of her dress. The diner’s ambient noise—the clink of dishes, the murmur of the radio—faded into a dull roar in her ears. All she could focus on was the way Rick’s thumb pressed against the damp fabric of her panties, the way his knuckles grazed the inside of her thigh. “No,” she murmured, her voice dropping to a husky whisper. “I didn’t.”
Alex finally moved. His hand shot out, fast and sure, gripping the back of her neck—not hard enough to hurt, but firm enough to own. He pulled her down, not onto the seat, but onto her knees between them. The linoleum was cold against her stockings, the pressure of Alex’s grip sending a shiver down her spine. She went willingly, her hands landing on Rick’s thighs for balance. The denim was rough beneath her palms, but the heat radiating from him was undeniable. His cock was already hard, the thick outline straining against his zipper, the fabric tented obscenely. Tess licked her lips, her tongue darting out to wet the red paint. She could smell him—leather, sweat, and the sharp, musky scent of arousal.
“Go on,” Rick growled, his voice rough as gravel. He didn’t need to say more. His free hand went to his belt, the buckle clinking as he undid it, the sound loud in the sudden quiet of the booth. Tess’s fingers trembled—just slightly—as she reached for his fly, her nails scraping against the metal teeth of his zipper. The first inch was the hardest, the denim tight around his girth, but then it gave, and his cock sprang free, thick and heavy, the head already glistening with precum. She wrapped her fingers around the base, her thumb brushing over the pulsing vein that ran along the underside. God, he was big. At least ten inches, maybe more, the shaft flushed dark with blood, the tip swollen and wet.
She didn’t tease. She didn’t play. Tess leaned in and kissed the crown, her lips parting just enough to taste him—salty, bitter, male. A shudder ran through Rick’s body, his abs tightening beneath his shirt. His hand found the back of her head, fingers tangling in her hair, not guiding, not yet, but warning. She took the hint. Her mouth opened wider, her tongue swirling around the ridge of his cockhead before she sank down, her lips stretching to take him in. The first few inches were easy, but then her throat protested, her gag reflex flaring. Rick didn’t let her stop. His grip tightened, his hips lifting off the seat just enough to push deeper, his cock hitting the back of her throat with a wet, obscene sound.
“Fuck yeah,” he groaned, his voice rough. “Just like that, girl. Take it.”
Tess hollowed her cheeks, her lips sealing tight around his shaft as she pulled back, then plunged down again, her nose brushing against the coarse hair at the base of his cock. Spit dribbled down her chin, her mascara already smudging from the effort, but she didn’t care. All that mattered was the way Rick’s thighs tensed beneath her hands, the way his breath hitched every time she swallowed around him. Behind her, Alex’s hands were busy. She felt his fingers first—thick, calloused—sliding up the back of her thighs, hooking beneath the lace of her panties. He didn’t pull them down. He tore them, the fabric giving way with a sharp rip that made her whimper around Rick’s cock.
“Look at you,” Alex murmured, his voice a dark chuckle. His fingers probed higher, slipping between her cheeks, finding her hole already slick with lube—always prepared. “All wet and ready for us.” One finger pressed inside, just the tip, testing. Tess moaned, the sound vibrating around Rick’s shaft. Alex didn’t waste time. She heard the clink of his belt, the rustle of his jeans, and then the thick, heavy press of his cockhead against her entrance. He wasn’t gentle. He didn’t ask. He just pushed, his hips rolling forward in one smooth motion, his cock stretching her open with a burn that had her eyes watering.
“Nngh—!” The sound was muffled, her mouth still stuffed full of Rick’s dick, but Alex heard her. He gripped her hips, his fingers digging into the soft flesh above her stockings, and slammed home. Tess’s body jerked forward, her throat convulsing around Rick’s cock as Alex bottomed out inside her, his balls pressing against her ass. The stretch was intense, his girth wider than anything she’d taken in a while, the burn of it making her vision spot. But she loved it. She loved the way they used her, the way Rick’s hand fisted in her hair, controlling her movements, the way Alex’s hips snapped against her, his cock pistoning in and out of her ass with wet, slapping sounds.
The diner had ceased to exist. There was no clatter of dishes, no hum of conversation, no stale coffee or greasy fries—just the three of them, a tangle of limbs and sweat and desperate, filthy sounds. Rick’s cock throbbed against her tongue, his precum coating her throat, his hips bucking up to meet her every time she pulled back. Alex’s grip on her hips was bruising, his thrusts growing harder, deeper, his grunts low and guttural in her ear.
“Such a good little slut,” he growled, his breath hot against her neck. “Taking both our cocks like you were made for it.”
Tess’s body was on fire. Her own cock, trapped beneath the tight fabric of her dress, ached, the lace of her ruined panties rubbing against the sensitive head with every movement. She was close, her balls drawing up, her ass clenching around Alex’s shaft every time he bottomed out. Rick must’ve felt it—the way her throat fluttered, the way her moans grew more desperate. His hand tightened in her hair, yanking her head back just enough to force her to meet his gaze. His eyes were dark, nearly black, his lips pulled back in a snarl.
“Cum for us, girl,” he ordered, his voice a whip-crack. “Now.”
That was all it took. The command, the permission, sent her crashing over the edge. Her body locked up, her back arching as her orgasm tore through her, her cock pulsing helplessly against the confines of her dress. Her ass clenched around Alex’s cock, milking him, her throat convulsing around Rick’s shaft. A broken, keening sound tore from her lips, her vision whiting out as pleasure consumed her. Behind her, Alex groaned, his hips stuttering as he buried himself to the hilt, his cock twitching as he emptied himself inside her. Rick followed a second later, his grip on her hair punishing as he thrust up once, twice, and then came with a guttural curse, his cum flooding her mouth, thick and salty and endless.
For a long moment, there was nothing but the sound of their ragged breathing, the slick, obscene noises of their bodies separating. Tess sagged between them, her lips swollen, her ass throbbing, her own cock softening in the aftermath. The diner’s noise slowly crept back in—the clatter of a dropped tray, the murmur of the cook swearing in the kitchen—but none of it mattered. Rick’s cock slipped from her mouth with a wet pop, a string of cum dripping from her lower lip to splatter against her chest. Alex pulled out slowly, his softening cock dragging against her sensitive hole, making her whimper. She stayed on her knees, trembling, as Rick reached down and wiped his thumb across her lips, smearing the cum there before pushing it past her teeth. “Good girl,” he murmured, his voice rough with satisfaction.
Tess licked her lips, tasting him, tasting them. Her body ached in the best way, her skin buzzing, her mind pleasantly blank. She’d gotten exactly what she came for. And if the way both men were looking at her was any indication—like they weren’t nearly done with her yet—she’d be getting a whole lot more before the night was over.
