Unlocking My Private Locker: The Day I Sucked Off Dad’s Friend and Sealed the Job with My Boss
Deep in my private locker, that mental vault where I stash the filthiest secrets, I finally crack it open. Heart pounding. This one’s too hot to keep buried anymore. The thrill of spilling it raw, just for you.
It started with teasing Dad’s colleague, Philippe. Mid-50s, fit, fresh divorce. I’d heard the rumors—legendary lover, beds every woman he wants. Curiosity burned. Week one: foot play under the dinner table. Week two: same. Today, no panties under my skirt, flashing my bare ass. Stupid? Yeah. But I craved it. When he suggested grabbing bottles from the basement, I knew. No rebellion against parents. Pure hunger.
The Breaking Point in the Basement
Downstairs, fridge humming. Ears strained for footsteps. He grabs my hand, presses it to his jeans. Rock hard. ‘Three weeks I’ve come here just to fuck you,’ he growls. I squeeze tighter. He groans. ‘Shh. No time to fuck, but let me handle this.’ Belt unbuckled. Zipper down. On my knees. His cock springs out—thick, veiny, tip already salty wet. I swallow him whole. Saliva floods my mouth. Hand at the base, pumping. His fingers tangle in my hair, thrusting deeper. Gland hits my throat. He whispers, ‘Gonna cum… swallow it all.’ Hot spurts fill me. I gulp every drop, tongue swirling.
Then—Dad’s voice. ‘What the fuck?!’ Panic. Philippe zips up. I stand, hair wrecked, lips slick. Dad glares. ‘You, out. Never come back.’ Philippe bolts. To me: ‘You’re moving back home. Or no more tuition.’ Deal sealed. Fucked my freedom for a thrill. But then, that ad: ‘Waitress wanted.’ Game on.
Sealing the Deal on My Knees
Pushing into Stéphane’s empty Paris bistro. Bell jingles. Cute brunette—me—bold stare. Hand him my thin CV. Little experience. He eyes it. ‘Motivated?’ Hell yes. Parents cut me off. Coffee interview after last customers. Door locked, curtain half-down. Couch. Steaming mugs. ‘Why you?’ I lean in. ‘Bag of tricks. Need cash.’ He probes: ‘Parents issue?’ I grin. ‘Sucked off Dad’s colleague. Swallowed.’ His eyes widen. bulge grows. I see it. ‘Excellent cocksucker. Not on CV, but colleague perk?’
He challenges. I kneel. Table shoved aside. Belt, zipper. Grip his shaft—nice girth. Tongue traces vein to tip. Swirl. Deep throat. Wet, sloppy. No hands. Just mouth velvet glove. He grabs hair. Fucks my face. Saliva drips. I finger my soaked pussy, clit throbbing. He growls, ‘Lie back. Finger yourself.’ On couch, legs spread wide. Two fingers plunge in. Juices everywhere. He teases my clit. Legs shake. I near edge. He jerks over my open mouth. ‘Swallow.’ Ropes hit tongue, face. I scoop, lick clean. Orgasm crashes—body arches, pussy clenching. Clean his cock with laps.
Hired on spot. ‘Extra skills required?’ My demand. Best waitress too. Vault snaps shut. Lighter now. Secret shared. Adrenaline fades to glow. That rush—yours now.
