This story was automatically created with AI assistance. All characters are adults. 18+.
The city of Milan pulsed beneath me, a sea of lights and hot summer nights. I, the chef, felt the air grow heavy with desire as I walked down the long hallway to the hotel suite. My colleague, the sommelier, and I hadn’t seen each other in months – not since that crazy night in Barcelona where we almost kissed. This time was different. The occasion: an exclusive art exhibition for a collector, a mutual friend. But I knew it was about more than art. It was about what hung in the air, that electric tension that made me tingle between my legs.
When I opened the heavy wooden door to the suite, I saw him immediately. He stood by the window, a glass of Barolo in his hand, the red light of the setting sun playing around his silhouette. He turned when he heard me, and our eyes met. In that moment, I knew: Tonight I would fuck him. Not just kiss him, not just touch him – I would feel him inside me, deep and hard. My heart raced, my cunt grew wet at the thought of what was to come.
The collector, a man in his late forties with silver-gray temples and piercing eyes, stepped toward us. “Welcome, you two,” he said with a smile, kissing my hand. His lips burned on my skin. “I’ve missed you. Both of you.” The sommelier set down his glass and came closer, his gaze wandering over my body, the tight red dress that emphasized my curves. I felt his eyes linger on my breasts, firm beneath the fabric.
“Me too,” I whispered, my voice rough with desire.
The evening dragged on. We talked about art, about wines, about everything and nothing. But under the table, I felt the sommelier’s foot slowly stroking up my leg. The collector watched us, a knowing smile on his lips. “You’re so tense,” he said suddenly, standing up and taking off his jacket. “Let’s change that.”
He came around the table, knelt between us, and placed one hand on my thigh, the other on the sommelier’s. “I’ve seen how you look at each other. How your bodies scream for touch. I want to see it. I want to be part of it.” His gaze was firm, demanding. The sommelier looked at me, his eyes dark with lust. I nodded slowly, my heart hammering against my chest.
“Show me what you want,” the sommelier whispered, and his hand slid under my dress, straight between my legs. I felt his fingers glide over the damp fabric of my panties, and a moan escaped me. The collector watched us, his hand unzipping my dress. The fabric fell from my shoulders, and my breasts came into view, firm with hard nipples that craved his tongue.
“Lick them,” the sommelier commanded, and the collector obeyed without hesitation. His tongue circled my right nipple while his fingers pushed my panties aside. I felt his fingers slide into my wet cunt – first one, then two. “So wet,” he murmured, kneading my breast further. “You’ve been waiting so long to get fucked, haven’t you?”
“Yes,” I gasped, as the sommelier stood behind me and pushed my hair aside to kiss my neck. His hands gripped my hips, pressing me against his hard cock, which I could feel through his pants. “I want you both. Now.”
The collector stood up, pulled off his shirt, and opened his pants. His cock sprang out – long, thick, with a swollen glistening head. “Turn around,” he said, and I obeyed, bending over the table so my ass was in the air. The sommelier behind me pulled my dress off completely, until I was naked. The collector stepped in front of me, his cock right before my face.
“Open your mouth,” he said, and I did, letting his glans slide over my lips before taking him deep into my throat. I felt him press against my palate, and I swallowed to take him even deeper. His moan was deep as he began to move in my mouth. At the same time, I felt the sommelier’s hands on my ass, his fingers spreading my cheeks, and then his tongue pressing into my wet pussy.
“Fuck, yes,” I groaned around the collector’s cock, as the sommelier’s tongue thrust deep inside me. He licked me until I trembled, and then I felt his finger in my asshole, probing and slow. The collector took my head in both hands and fucked my mouth deeper and deeper. “Take it all,” he whispered. “You can do it.” I took him until my nose pressed against his pubic bone, and I felt his cock throbbing in my throat.
Suddenly, I heard the sommelier stand up. “I want to fuck you,” he said, his voice hoarse. He pulled me up, away from the table, and pressed me against the wall. The collector turned me around so I faced the wall. I felt the sommelier take his cock, pressing the wet tip against my cunt. “Are you ready?”
“Yes, fuck me hard,” I moaned, and he rammed his cock into me in one single, deep thrust. I screamed – a scream of pleasure and pain. He was so thick, so long, that I felt him in my stomach. He began to fuck me, hard and fast, each thrust driving me against the wall. His hands gripped my hips, his fingers digging into my skin.
The collector came in front of me, his cock still wet from my saliva. “Open your mouth,” he said, and I did, while the sommelier kept thrusting into me. I took the collector’s cock back into my mouth, this time deeper, wilder. I felt my body torn between the two men – one fucking my cunt, the other my mouth. The sound of their thrusts, the squelch of my wet pussy under the sommelier’s cock, their moans, and my choked gasps filled the room.
“I’m about to come,” the sommelier gasped, and I felt his cock pulse inside me. His thrusts became more uncontrolled, deeper. He thrust one last time, and I felt hot cum shoot into my cunt as he moaned loudly. But he didn’t pull out – he stayed inside me, hard, while the collector pulled his cock from my mouth.
“Now you,” the sommelier said to me, and he slowly withdrew, motioning the collector over. “Lie down,” he said to me, and I sank to the floor, onto the soft carpet. I spread my legs wide, my cunt was
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