A professional? Sunday brunch made me hungry and he filled me up [FM]

*I have a strict ‘no sex at work’ rule, but I guess some rules are meant to be broken a couple of times. I’m not proud, but this month’s contest submissions got my body reminiscing of them and I figured I’d share the first one today. What are -your- strict sex rules worth breaking a couple of times?*

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Do you ever go on trips where you feel insatiable all the time? Does air travel mess up your hormones? My visit to my BFF in a different city was full of all the fun things and wholesome catch-up, but the vibrator I brought was just not cutting it. I remember hours I spent on my friend’s bed, naked, finding angles to take nudes for the Redditor I’d fuck on the second leg of my trip (story for another day).

I was staying at my friend’s shared house, so I didn’t expect any action in that town of mostly young professionals. My poor pussy was dying. I never would have expected relief to come during a particularly horny Sunday, when a professional brunch was my lucky break. Networking Sunday brunch. Yes.

I tagged along with my friend to what felt like an awkward social event. A group of young professionals gathered every Sunday over brunch at different restaurants, sharing their insights into the specific sector where they all worked. They weren’t friends, really, but it’s not like they had solid friendships in that town. Everyone had moved there recently from other faraway places.

The spark was ignited when we arrived at the restaurant while some of the group waited to be seated at a different table. One of them, David, stood up to greet us. My friend shook his hand, but David and I froze for a moment in front of each other. I looked up at him, smiling, and he introduced himself. Just as I was shaking his hand, another group squeezed through to their table in that crowded area, pushing me a bit too hard and making me lose balance for a second. He held my hand up and moved his hand to my hips by instinct. I recovered fast, but we all laughed. We soon made our way to the table.

David and I ended up sitting across each other and we got to talk a lot. He had been in this city for a couple of years and we shared insights over the area we managed at our respective jobs. In this brunch, talk was barely personal; it felt a lot more like networking over mimosas. But David and I exchanged constant looks and my already high hormonal baseline started to rise more.

It was my friend’s professional brunch, and sometimes I just don’t have it in me to be assertive, so I didn’t force a way to exchange contact information. Towards the end, one of the girls there gave me her business card and asked for mine because I was a useful contact for her area of work. I took out two. David immediately opened his wallet and we exchanged cards without saying anything.

My friend had plans to go to a museum I had already visited, so we agreed to meet up later. However, David had left, and I did not want to be the one calling a business contact to get laid. After all, he knew my name and my affiliation, which has always been enough to deter me — I may be a slut but I believe firmly in not shitting where you eat.

David saw things differently, though; he had no qualms in texting the mobile number on my business card.

“Hey, this is David. Do you have any plans right now?”

“No. What do you propose?”

“I live near [the restaurant where we ate]. Also happy to show you around town this afternoon.”

“What’s your address?”

And that’s how I violated one of my most rigid sex boundaries, sort of. My friend’s brunch, the different city, the different industry created the moral buffer that I used to justify my actions. But let’s be honest: had it not been for my wild hormones and cum thirst that day, even gorgeous David would have been turned away.

When I arrived, he was waiting for me at the entrance to the apartment complex. His place was thankfully tidy and I would describe it as welcoming for a single man’s space. His couch was comfortable, the wine he gave me was of good quality and served in appropriate glasses, and he had legitimate insights about the art on his walls. I started to get the feeling that David might be a wonderful sub for this switch on the perpetual quest for femdom.

Once again, I had read him completely wrong. David’s assertiveness had been foreshadowed by his holding me up when I got pushed in the restaurant, by his texting me first after brunch. When we started to make out, my hands were over him first; but that was just the green signal he had needed to start running this show.

Before we knew it, he had taken off my dress and bra, I had taken off his shirt and pants, and we were making out practically naked on his couch. He pulled me to straddle him in between kisses and his hand moved under my panties, feeling the pool of juices I had already generated. He looked at me in surprise and I giggled.

“Woah, all of this over mimosas and work talk? Your employer must be so proud of you.”

Oh God, he was already humiliating me. I was going to cum so hard.

“What can I say, I am just a loyal employee who likes to do a good job. I pour my soul into it…”

My hands rested on his bulge, flirtatious. Of course gorgeous David had a huge dick ready to burst through the fabric of his boxers. In the meantime, he started fingering me on his lap, muttering how he couldn’t wait to see me do a good job. It felt good and just the right amount of kinky to get me going. I could tell he and I had compatible depraved minds, and it was time to make my preferences clear.

I stood up from the couch and knelt down in front of him, pulling off his boxers. I wanted him to know that I was a slut and wanted to be treated like one. I let out my tongue as his flesh was freed, letting him bounce against it, against my face. He moaned quietly in understanding, moving his hand to play with my hair. My hands ran all over his dick and balls, preparing him. I took the tip of his cock into my mouth for a brief moment, flicking it with my tongue.

Still, I wanted to leave no room for misinterpretation. I started to inch in slowly, my lips covering my teeth, but I did not stop at the point where he would expect me to. Slower but determined I continued taking more of him in, my eyes fixed on his. “Oh fuck,” he said as he watched his thick cock challenge my jaw, and as I reached the last inch of his flesh that would bring his tip to my throat. I moved his hand to my head.

He hesitated at first, but he eventually did it. He forced the last of his cock inside me, making me gag. I couldn’t see him well through the tears building up in my eyes, but his “oh my fucking God” was all the confirmation I needed.

David enjoyed my deepthroating so thoroughly that I was certain he’d give me a throatpie. I would have loved a couple of slaps and name-calling moments thrown in, but it was a professional connection and we needed to save face. He just did a great job holding my head down on him for long enough but not too long, choking me hard with his cock before he let me breathe in exchange for messing up my face and my tits with his precum and my spit.

But he had different plans for his orgasm, so he eventually pulled me off. “As much as I am loving this, I am ready for the main dish and I think you are too.” He held my hand to guide me to his bedroom. A bedframe! Bed made! No clothing piles! If this had all happened in my city, and not through a professional brunch, David would have earned facefucking dates #2 and #3.

I sat down on the edge of the bed as he put on a condom, and I spread my legs, inviting, when he approached me. The moment when it goes in tends to be one of hot pleasure, but when you’re with a larger guy it can also be one of expectation: is it going to hurt? Is my G-spot going to go crazy? In this case, he was slow but firm, and his girth started building pleasure in me easily starting at stroke 3.

The perfect session for me would involve copious amounts of dirty talk and a good dose of slut-shaming, but, again, this was practically a work setting. We moaned and grunted as he fucked me missionary, his hands over my tits and mine running over his back. He slipped behind me, holding my leg up — one of my favorite positions in porn, but unfortunately one ruined by my really big ass. I apologized.

His response to my apology? He slapped my ass. I just about came when he did that. He told me to get on all fours and he said he was about to fulfill a dream — fucking a girl on all fours while on all fours himself — all thanks to my large ass and to the rare perfect hip alignment our bodies created. Very tall guys deserve the pleasure of all fours, too, and I am glad my inseam and my ass provided that for him.

The feel of his back brushing against mine and his hands reaching mine on all fours, especially after his confession, drove me into sexual frenzy. I spread my legs for him and he started fucking my pussy, effortlessly finding the perfect angle for me. “Oh, fuck, you’re going to make me cum like that,” I told him. “I know. I can already feel it.” The confidence of men at work.

He supported himself on one hand while leaving a free one to fondle my jiggling tits and tensing abdomen. He squeezed in a few spankings, and I could tell right away that he was experienced. He never hesitated, and his hand hit me with enough force to make my ass jiggle, always ready to grope that jiggle to its end. I was practically creaming his dick, and his fingers moved to circle my exposed clit. The build up of pleasure was fast and efficient and insane. The relief I had been seeking all trip was coming, and he was going to feel it on every inch of his thick cock. “I want you to cum for me; my cock is going to feel so good when you do it.”

Unable to take it much longer, I lowered my face to the mattress, my hips still in the air and taking each of his hard poundings. His other hand grasped and pulled my hair as he rose to kneeling, revealing the full extent of his assertiveness. He announced he was going to explode inside me too. The firm tug, the bounce of his balls against my flesh, the image of myself being used in this handsome work stranger’s bed… It all pushed me over the edge and I came hard around his cock, successfully squeezing a strong orgasm out of him too.

For an encounter so taboo (for me), the after chat flowed great. In different circumstances, this really would have been continuous mating and dating material. But it was time for me to go find my friend for the last few hours before the second leg of my trip. The facefucking and ass-slapping work alpha mellowed into a caring gentlemanly figure that walked and waited with me at the public transit stop near him, giving me a deep kiss before I parted.

“I will contact you if my trips take me to your city, and I sure hope you’ll contact me again if you come back here. I think we have some pending business.”

I melted again.

To date, I feel I got very lucky. I got relief, I was spared negative professional repercussions, and David and I did stay in touch. But I’m not gonna lie: seeing the name “David” pop into my work email inbox still gets me at times. Other times, like this month, it mostly gives me an excuse to bring out my vibrator and reminisce about the good job we both did that day.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/vfwx5z/a_professional_sunday_brunch_made_me_hungry_and