Ruler Roulette: My Wild Under-Table Fuck in Lyon

Sun blasts the grande place in Lyon. My heart hammers. Roc waits at the terrace, sipping juice. Days of filthy app chats—pics of my tits, his cock promises. Work gigs here aligned like fate. No dinner bullshit. Straight to sex. I wave my jacket, wind flips my white skirt, silver thong flashes. His eyes lock on my legs, high-heeled sandals lacing calves. Bustier hugs tits, nipples poke through. No bra. I sway closer, thighs rubbing, pussy already wet from anticipation.

“Finally,” he grins, pulling me for a kiss. Tongue dives deep. Tastes like fruit juice and hunger. “Your vendors buzz like bees?” I tease, feeling his hard-on press. Banter flies—jealousy jokes, branding fesses. Laughter hides the throb between my legs. Phone vibrates in purse—his last chat pic reminder. I ignore it. Server seats us in dim alcove booth, high back hides us. Salade ardéchoise, saucisse, no wine. Tarte Tatin shared, spoon play, cream on my lips. He smears it, I lick slow, eyes locked. Heat builds.

The Approach

Talk turns dirty. Positions? Doggy. Bet: can he bottom out? “Measure now,” he whispers, pulls aluminum ruler from case. Eyes widen. “Here?” Thrill spikes. He washes it in toilets. Back, grins like devil. “Under table. Quick.” I nod, pulse racing. No turning back.

He dives under. Skirt up. Nails graze thong over slit. Fabric soaks fast. I smile at passing clients, thighs quake. He yanks thong aside. Pussy bare, trimmed bush. Breath hot on folds. Tongue laps thighs, then lips. I spread, fingers pull lips wide. Clit throbs, hard. He sucks it, gentle pull. Hands grip head, grind face in. Waves crash. Servers clang plates. Urgency bites.

The Explosion

“Hurry,” I hiss. He spreads me, slides ruler in. Cold metal warms in juice. “Too cold?” No words—I’m vibrating. Twists it like drill. Fire ignites. Hips buck, shoulders pinned. Cum hits brutal—legs clamp, squirt soaks seat. Gasp muffled. “Seventeen cm,” he announces soft. Kick ribs lightly. “Idiot. Surface.”

My turn. I snatch ruler, slip under. Zipper down, cock springs free. Thick, veined. Balls cupped, shaft stroked. Lick length, salty pre-cum. Gulp head, tongue frets frenulum. Knees bang table—glasses rattle. Client passes; I slow, tease nipples with tip. Bustier down, rub slit on his meat. Suck deep, milk balls. He tenses. “Slow.” No. Hands pump, mouth seals. He grabs cloth, erupts. Thick ropes flood throat. Swallow every drop. Ruler along shaft: “Fifteen cm.”

Surface. Kiss fierce, cum taste shared. Laughs erupt—bets settled, banter savage. “Short cock, huh?” “You sucked it soft.” Bill paid. Quick hug. “Work calls.” Walk away separate. Phone buzzes—his goodbye ping. Block. Stranger again. Adrenaline fades, pussy aches sweet. Next click awaits.