Sue’s Chef

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It was warm, it was stiff and it made her feel silly to be focusing on those two aspects when she had a damn kitchen to run. Chef Sue Ng’s grip tightened around the fevered-feeling sauce bottle while her mind drifted longingly to images of herself in a lavish bubblebath, being scrubbed and fucked by two hunky rugby players with English accents as thick as their cocks. Maybe one of their wives would join in and-

“Chef! Taste this.”

Mrs. English Rugby Player’s entrance into the spacious tub was interrupted by the concerns of her sous chef Erin, currently in the form of a cauliflower soup steaming off a spoon.

“Blend it for a touch longer next time. Still a bit denser than I’d like but it’ll be fine. The salt is perfect.”

“Thank you, Chef.”

Her second-in-command then returned to his station to begin working on the next round of prep work for the upcoming dinner service.

This would be their 15th consecutive night in the trenches together here at ‘the anticipated five-star fusion-cuisine dining experience’ Lilyblossom. She had brought her young squire of a sous chef with her from their previous employ after it tanked like so many. That was the lifestyle though. Work and cook your heart out until management couldn’t pay you anymore.

Getting this place off the ground had been quite the task. The kitchen staff had all walked out under the obnoxious French drunk that ran it since it first opened a month ago. It meant long-long-long hours and hard-hard-hard work. Lucky for the Lilyblossom, Chef Sue had work ethic etched into her DNA. Besides seeing oven timers when she closed her eyes and an intense soreness beginning to form in the back of her shins, the only problem was her critically underfed carnal appetite.

Usually days off were spent on top of shuffled sheets while she hammered climax after climax out of herself with the help of a toy chest more packed than her knife drawer. After this recent run of a week plus with no reprieve, that bed of hers was beginning to fell like a half-remembered dream.

Sue was wet.

Service didn’t start gaziantep rus escort for another twenty. That was more than enough time to duck back to her office, lock the door and rub one-maybe two out.

But why have junk food when you could have a real meal…

Sue glanced back over to Erin.

He had the kinda face you just couldn’t wait to sit on. Somehow she had avoided it so far. Professionalism perhaps, but mostly just lack of opportunity. Their time together so far had been a hard sprint off of trainwreck and now finally she a moment to recognize how nice he would look with her neglected black patch of pubis smothering his adorably wholesome features. The kid looked like a composite photo of every boy band ever. Well-kept sandy blonde… soulful handsome blue eyes… cute little butt…


He immediately gave her his full attention, putting down his whisk and turning to her.

Fuck she had him trained so well!

“Come help check stock in the freezer while we go over tonight’s menu one more time.”

“Yes Chef.”

She lead him to the large metal door.

“They still haven’t flipped the lock on this thing right?”

“No Chef. I think they’re supposed be doing that when they bring in the new ovens on Tuesday.”

“Good. Wouldn’t want us getting locked inside.” She commented, pushing the door shut behind them and grinning as the latch snapped into place, keeping anyone else from walking in.

The muggy heat of the kitchen that lingered as sweat across her began to chill immediately. More so when she undid the front of her chef coat and allowed her bare chest to breath in the refrigerated air.

Erin hadn’t noticed yet, diligently going through and tap-counting each box on the shelves. Sue didn’t bother warning him.

She just gripped him by the hair and lead his face to her toffee-colored bosom. Considering how often Sue had caught him stealing glances of her burnt crimson nipples through perspiration-soaked tanktops almost every morning, she figured this was a dream-come-true for her dutiful ‘kitchen squire’. This was confirmed when his only response was huffy-puffy mouthing across her cleavage.

“G-o-o-d” She cooed slow and sultry, petting through his hair affectionately before gripping it again, “Very good.”

By this time, he had found her right nipple with his lips. It was treated to some kissing, then an interrupted suckle as she directed him lower. As usual, he appeared to catch on quick. Her ever-intuitive sous chef was peeling down the waistband of her slacks by the time his chin passed her navel.

Erin was rewarded with a fantastically erotic sight. Sue’s index and middle split and spread and framed her pinkest parts between the shaggy tufts of silken damp black. Now that it had come to his turn to taste, Erin reduced himself to nothing more than a writhing tongue on her behalf and lower half. Sloshing slippery strokes were sure to make more of a mess of her already sopping sloppy slit, only allowed for now as his enthusiastic slurping blanketed her sex with wet heat. The combination of cool and hot was making her senses flare up, everything becoming sharp, vivid contrasts to each other.

Red wild heat was pouring from his lips while a world of cool blue kissed over her labor-dampened figure.

In a perfect world, she could have just enjoyed this for another few hours before riding him on the floor for another few after. Instead, this sadly was a world where she going to be expected to feed a few dozen of the snobbiest pricks in about fifteen minutes.

“You better know how to fuck,” Sue began threaten, yanking him back up by his hair, “Or its dish duty all weekend.”

Sue turned, gripping the shelves and spreading to make it crystal clear what her right-hand man was expected to do now.

“A fucking month, Erin. Get to it!” She barked back at him again at even just the second of hesitation he made(obviously awe-struck by the sight of his boss and mentor’s lewd demand and presentation). Luckily he didn’t take much longer than that.

Before you could say ‘Order’s up’, Erin had his pants around his ankles and was pumping into the tongue-prepped pussy he had just been frenching.

Turned out he fucked like he chopped- fast, consistent and he knew where to keep his hands. In this case, the right was on her hip to keep her steadied while delivering a flurry of thick-cocked plunges deep to her core. The left meanwhile cradled along her front, keeping her even more secure as she ruthlessly hammered her hips back to pin his thrusting tool right against her sweetspot.

“Mmfff YESS YESS THERE! OMMF RIGHT FUCKING THERE KID! NNFffGGG POUND IT!” Sue hissed through clenched teeth.

Again Sue would find no better pleasure in the world than a boy who could follow direction.

Erin slammed away, spanking her ass with his lap each time he rutted hard and that delicious way she had instructed. Her body rewarded his service by gripping and squeezing his hardness when it massaged into her tender nook just right. The rapid accumulation of direct hits had her precious pink walls in a spasming fit of pleasure too.


From there it was a string of expletives and prayers within her native tongue, pouring out nonstop steamy from her gaped O’ing lips. Her ass punched him in the gut before her cunny locked down around his entire shaft. Her much-needed orgasm was wrung out in waves, using his stiff length as a pornographic stress ball of sorts.

Through the dense fog of her climax she could feel Eric still flexing and jutting his hips, poorly attempting to thrust through her vice-like state.

“Okay… okay… you can stop now,” She huffed, slightly charmed by what she assumed was him dutifully persisting per her command, “and get your pants back on. We’re cutting it close as it is.”

As if on cue, her wristwatch chimed a short series of notes to remind her that they had exactly two minutes left.

Chef Sue managed to compose herself fairly quickly, buttoning back up her front as she eyed Erin trying to stuff himself back into his briefs. A moment later they emerged, a reinvigorated Sue delivering a cascade of orders while Erin slunk back to his station with a boner-shielding stack of boxes.

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