The lights are low in the restaurant now.
All the people have left, the tables have been cleared, and the kitchen cleaned. She can still smell the beautiful food they created tonight and still see the smiles and looks of contentment on the faces of their customers.
She feels tired, but exhilarated. The satisfaction after every dinner service never seems to diminish and she knows this is her place – just where she’s supposed to be.
Cataloguing each aching muscle in her body, looking forward to a hot bath at home, she moves behind the polished oak bar to open the fridge, grabbing a cold beer. Her eyes are closed, the cold bottle heaven against her flushed cheeks, when she feels soft lips on her neck.
She smiles as they nibble their way up to her ear. Once there, a warm tongue flicks her earlobe, making her shiver and moan softly as she tilts her head to the side to give it better access.
“Oh…” she whispers, as he brings his hands up to cup her breasts. Her head falls back onto his shoulder, pushing her breasts out, needing more.
She feels him move to press himself against her – feels him push and rub against her ass – and she knows he is hungry. His hands are firm on her body. He knows what she wants – knows just how she likes to be touched.
She leans forward as he brings her t-shirt up and over her head. He throws it onto the bar and immediately unfastens her bra, which then flies in the same direction. She yelps when his hands return to squeeze her breasts and slap the heavy underside. She feels them sway on her chest and groans out her appreciation, loving the little bite of pain.
“Bend over the bar, baby.” His hand presses on her back impatiently.
He kneels at her feet to take off her shoes and then makes quick work of her jeans and panties. She watches the clothes pile grow on the bar as his shirt lands there, clenching her thighs tight at the sound of his belt buckle jingling.
Breasts pressed against the hard surface, her skin feels tight and hot as she begins to pant. She needs his hands on her – needs to feel him everywhere.
He moves to stand close behind her, rubbing his cock on her ass, leaving a cool wet trail on her burning skin.
“You hot, baby?” His words stroke her body and make her shiver despite the heat.
She manages a small acknowledgement, hoping he doesn’t decide to go slow now.
Then every synapse in her brain sparks as his big hand lands on the curve of her ass with a heavy smack! He kicks her legs wide, his hand continuing to land all over her soft flesh, creating an almost instant stinging heat.
“Oh God, yes!” Her head falls down onto her forearms as she moans the words. So good! She can feel her slippery response between her legs, and she knows he can too when he strokes two thick fingers along her folds.
“Just look at that.” He sinks his fingers inside her: a hard, fast thrust that takes her up onto her toes. “So wet – so fucking hot.”
He works his fingers inside her, setting a demanding rhythm that has her clit throbbing and hard. She is desperate to touch it, to make herself come. But not now – she has to trust him to do that – so she digs her nails into the palms of her hands and braces herself against the cold, slightly sticky bar.
This is the hardest part – giving the responsibility of her pleasure over to someone else. She has been in control of it for so long. He is the only one who has ever taken that from her – the only one who has ever been able to do so. She breathes deeply and relaxes her muscles. Open and ready now, wanting whatever he decides to give her.
The lewd, wet sounds of him working her body make her clench tight around them and thrust her ass out.
“Yeah, that’s right. Take it, girl. Such a gorgeous ass.”
She gasps as he withdraws his fingers, then screams as he slaps her pussy hard. Again and then once more: nice and high – right where she needs it the most. He steps in quickly to keep her legs open as she instinctively tries to close them.
“Fuck!” A ragged groan torn from her lips.
His hand comes around her body as he spanks her ass one last time, rubbing and circling her burning clit.
She feels the sweat run down the side of her face, knowing she can’t take much more. Every muscle is tight now, her body braced and ready while she strains for every ounce of pleasure that he is giving her.
“Come on now, honey. Let go for me.”
His words wash over her. She closes her eyes and lets herself get lost in this. She revels in it, every thrust and bounce, every grunt and whimper, every drop of sweat all coalesce until it takes over her body and mind.
Nothing exists except this, except him. When her orgasm sweeps through her she doesn’t hold back: with every cry and moan – every twist and shudder – she lets him know that he is the only one.
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