Hi, I’m Keila. I work as a sales manager at a pretty well-known software company here in Alphaville. I weigh 58 kilos nicely distributed over 1.67 meters, with natural blonde hair and blue eyes.
Look, even at 28, I’ve still got it all going on, you know? Back in high school and college, they handed me the Miss Beauty trophy every time–guys were literally dying of fear to even approach me. Never, and I mean never, has anyone rejected me.
It was right here in Alphaville that I met my love (my husband). We fell hard and got married. But the future is uncertain and treacherous. The guy who handles maintenance at work–Raimundo–started throwing charm my way, you know? He asked me out to lunch. Of course, I turned him down as much as I could, but I always felt uncomfortable.
Even when I mentioned it to my husband, he just laughed it off, didn’t give a damn. To him, Raimundo was just some chill older guy, out of shape, past sixty, already said goodbye to his teeth.
But guess what? One fine day, Raimundo corners me in an empty hallway and drops:
“So, girl, you gonna keep saying no to lunch forever?”
“Look, Mr. Raimundo, I’m married, that would be wrong,” I started, tripping over my own words. “Like… I mean… it wouldn’t be appropriate…”
The more I tried to dodge, the more turned on he seemed to get by the whole idea.
“Come on, sweetheart,” he said, with that smooth talk of someone who’s been around the block more than a few times. “Let me take you out for a little bite to eat.” And he pulled that sad puppy-dog face. “You wouldn’t want to break this old man’s heart, right?” He tossed the words out casually, but there was that sharp edge of boldness underneath.
“I’m really sorry… I just can’t…”
“Just once!” he insisted, like he wasn’t taking no for an answer. I tried to kick my brain into overdrive to find an escape, but all I managed was:
“Look, Raimundo, are you aware that…”
That’s when I realized his eyes were glued to my chest while I spoke. And out of nowhere–without even understanding how–it happened: my nipples started to harden, betraying me completely.
My brain screamed:
“Fuck.”
“Please don’t let him notice.”
But even from a little distance, it was obvious. They were poking right through the thin fabric of my blouse.
I felt dizzy, lost… and I could see him staring straight at my stiff nipples.
He gave me this filthy, knowing smirk, clearly clocking my confusing arousal, and said in a mocking tone:
“Come on, darling, you can’t keep saying no to life forever.”
I caved. I had no fight left, no more arguments.
“Fine… just this one time, okay? And be very clear… just as coworkers, alright?”
Raimundo flashed a huge grin:
“Relax, my dear, I know this is a one-time thing.”
“Jesus, this is NOT a date!” screamed inside my head, but I bit my tongue. Still, something inside me was screaming to get out. The words from this wrinkled-skinned, story-eyed older man had gotten under my skin, and there I was, giving him a weak, yellow smile, a mix of irritation and total confusion at how easily I’d fallen for such blatant bullshit.
I took a step back, already turning to leave, when my eyes landed on the bulge forming in his pants. Was that his cock? No way…
For a second, I had to stare harder just to make sure my eyes weren’t playing tricks on me.
His cock swelled obscenely against the front of his pants. While he watched me intently, he just smiled.
“I really, really want this, Keila,” he said, grabbing my hand firmly. “And I know you want it too.”
Somehow, my hand moved on its own, squeezing his back in a sudden reflex while I desperately searched for words to calm things down and get us both out of this mess. But all that came out was a stammered mess:
“Y-yeah… Yes, Mr. Raimundo… I… I think I want it too…”
I couldn’t stop staring. It was huge. No way that could be real. For a split second, reality hit me, and I tried to pull away. But he kept my hand locked in his grip without even trying hard.
In a quick, instinctive jerk, I managed to yank both my hands free.
He stopped. Took one step back. His almost primal face broke into a wide, triumphant grin. As he turned to walk away, he tossed over his shoulder:
“So I’ll see you tomorrow, gorgeous.”
“Ah… okay…” I blurted out.
Walking back toward the door that led to the next corridor, I felt completely confused and a little dazed.
As I moved down the hallway, I caught his reflection in the glass door–he was still standing there, watching me. My knees were trembling, my heart hammering in my chest, but I couldn’t figure out why my body was reacting like this.
On pure instinct, without thinking, I started swaying my hips, rolling my perfect, perky ass a little more… What the hell was I doing? I had no idea.
While I walked, I glanced back at the glass door reflection. Shamelessly, he was running his hand over that massive bulge, stroking the outline of his enormous cock right through his pants.
I felt like I was about to faint. I pushed through the doors and headed straight for the women’s bathroom, slipping quickly into a stall.
“My God, I feel like I need to pee,” I thought.
But I wasn’t. I was soaked–but it wasn’t urine. It was my own slick arousal dripping from my pussy. I couldn’t believe it. How could this old maintenance guy have gotten me this worked up? Just from flirting? Had I really become this sexually drawn to him?
I couldn’t fight it anymore.
I leaned my back against the wall, spread my legs, and shoved my small, delicate fingers between my thighs, hunting for my clit. I started rubbing it furiously. Eyes squeezed shut, I replayed the scene from minutes ago in my mind: the giant outline of that filthy black janitor’s cock straining and throbbing against his pants.
Oh God, what a rush. My little fingers moved with furious speed and intensity. I started moaning, desperately trying to keep my voice down–after all, I was in the company bathroom.
I began imagining Raimundo pulling that massive thing out of his pants… I sped up even more and couldn’t hold back. I had to muffle my own scream as I came hard, really hard. My fingers were coated in thick, slippery pussy juices–the kind no one else had ever managed to draw out of me.
When it was over, I sat there on the toilet seat, stunned and dazed. “What the hell just happened to me? How did he do that?” I asked myself, feeling ridiculous and completely confused by the whole thing.
Why was that old black man turning me on so much?
I forced myself to wipe my throbbing pussy dry, still pulsing with that sweet ache, trying to pull myself together and get back to my desk like I was in some kind of trance.
But the shock of having actually accepted Raimundo’s invitation kept me distracted the entire day. And the lingering heat in my body didn’t help either. What had scared me so badly?
What would my husband do if he ever found out?
I tried to focus on work all day long, but my tits kept aching, my pussy lips stayed swollen and sensitive–constant, shameless proof of the arousal still burning inside me. I couldn’t concentrate on anything with those persistent, sexual sensations screaming through my body.
That night when I got home, André asked how my day had been and why I seemed so quiet. I was still dazed, disoriented by everything that had happened.
Later, he walked into the bedroom completely naked while I lay on the bed waiting for him. He strode straight toward the bed, eyes locked on me with that confident smile on his face.
God, all I could think about was how funny and ridiculous he looked. He was a grown man, but his dick looked like it belonged to a boy just hitting puberty.
We started making love. As usual, I had to help guide him inside me. His naked body felt so strange against mine–bland, cold, distant. That’s when I realized my subconscious was already comparing him to the raw masculinity of black Raimundo.
He slipped out mid-thrust while buried in me. “How is this possible? He’s so fucking small,” I thought.
I helped him slide back in. He started moaning loudly, and after a pathetic two minutes, he came inside me. Honestly, if he hadn’t said anything, I wouldn’t have even felt it.
I was irritated. Unsatisfied.
All that noise and drama for what I already knew was barely a drop of cum. Back when I used to give him blowjobs, half the time I didn’t even realize he’d finished–his load was so weak I barely tasted anything in my mouth.
After that, he rolled over to his side of the bed and passed out in seconds. Pathetic.
While he slept, I relaxed, closed my eyes, and pictured Raimundo staring at me, rubbing that gigantic cock of his over his pants–almost tearing the fabric from how thick and hard it looked just from watching me.
Fuck, there I was under the blanket, frantically working my clit in pure agony. The desperation was pounding at the door because my little button was already begging for mercy.
Legs spread as wide as they could go, my hands going up and down like crazy while André snored like a goddamn tractor. I was so close, right on the edge of exploding into another world.
My pussy was flooded, more like an aquarium, and my fingers were the fish swimming wildly inside her.
Then it hit. A whirlwind of raw emotion and burning carnal passion!
“OOOhhh!!” I screamed as wave after wave of overwhelming orgasms crashed through me.
When it finally ended, I lay there panting, sweaty, trying to catch my breath. I collapsed into a deep sleep while André kept right on snoring.
CONTINUES…
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