Link to original with image in the comments.
Customs officer Sorina Vasile leans back on the cold hard rock and puts her arms above her head, the sea gently spraying over her slender bikini body. Her breasts are firm and upright, pushing out against her black and gold bra, ready to pop out any minute. Her long legs support her from sliding down the rock. She waits for me to take control.
I’m in Romania on a mission, staying in the beautiful Venus beach resort. But things aren’t going to plan. I’m supposed to keep tabs on a known human trafficker who’s sending people to the UK on the promise of work and money. But instead these people end up as slaves or forced into prostitution. They’re young people with hopes and dreams, which Dragomir Sala ruthlessly and deceptively takes away. So far he’s made hundreds of thousands of pounds exporting illegal immigrants into the UK, hiding them in freezing cold trucks or storage units. I’m here to simply track him for now, nothing else.
But that goes wrong. I’m spotted following Mr Sala between bars in Venus resort as he conducts business meetings, making preparations for his next shipment. Before I can finish my drink, I’m being chased through the backstreets by Sala and two of his henchmen. I lose the henchmen quite quickly; their bloated frames are no match for my fitness. But Sala keeps the pace, all the way up to a hotel rooftop where he draws a knife and forces me closer to the edge.
Now I’ve had enough of this human trafficker. I was supposed to simply follow him, but he’s turned it violent. So it’s time to return aggression on this sicko. He lunges towards me several times, lashing out with his knife, until I’m standing on the edge of the roof. Then, as he makes a final audacious stab at me, I sidestep the blade, grab his wrist, swing him round to the rooftop edge, and, with a wink, push him off. He plummets to the ground, screaming like a coward, until all that’s left of him is a crumpled mess in the dirt. My only problem now is explaining this to MI6.
After Dragomir Sala’s death, I use the evidence picked up while eavesdropping to locate his next shipment, a truck full of young girls bound for the UK. With the help of a local customs officer named Sorina Vasile, we free the girls and return them to their families. Sorina is impressed with my work. Killing Sala makes her life easier. I also get the impression she’s impressed with my physique; I worked out hard in the hotel gym earlier in the day. And, giving her the once over, I can tell she’s concealing a hot body under that formal customs uniform. Her ass is tight against her dark blue trousers; I can see the outline of a thong as she walks back to the car.
She invites me to a quiet spot just off Venus beach the next evening, full of little rock pools. I agree.
We drink a bottle of chilled Champagne I brought from my hotel, gazing out to sea. Sitting on the slippery wet rocks, we get a little tipsy as gentle waves roll in.
Two hours later Sorina is stripped down to her little black and gold bikini, leaning back on the cold wet rocks, her flat stomach taut, her breasts about to burst out of her bra. The red flowery skirt she was wearing lies crumpled to the side. Her legs are up against a rock, holding her in place. I’m sure her fellow colleagues at the customs office haven’t seen her like this. She’s all mine.
I take the chilled Champagne bottle we’ve been drinking from and slide it down her tiny bikini bottoms, letting whatever’s left pour out over her private area. She tenses up as the cold fizzy liquid covers her sensitive spot.
With the heavy bottle wedged into her panties between her legs, I tug down on the top of each bikini bra cup, and her pert breasts pop out above, revealing rock hard nipples. The Champagne bottle between her legs is causing discomfort, but she’s getting pleasure from it nonetheless. At one point she tries to remove it, but I take her hand away and put it back behind her head.
With the cold Champagne bottle still under her little bikini bottoms, covering her private area, I turn Sorina over, holding the bottle in place. Now she’s bent over the cold wet rock facing the sea, her slender body pressed up hard against the stone, the bottle still between her legs.
Slowly, I pull down her little black and gold panties, just enough to expose her pert ass while keeping the Champagne bottle wedged into her bottoms. Her breasts, bursting out of their cups, are squashed hard against the slimy wet rock.
Reaching between her slim navel and the rock, grabbing hold of the bottle and keeping it in place, I force her long legs wide apart and enter from behind.
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/2sib6u/the_customs_girl_caught_between_a_rock_and_a_hard
Original with image: http://agentsandstorm.com/customs-girl-rock-hard-place/