Raw Fuck with My Hired Hunk: Art, Dinner, Then Total Surrender in Aix

Tuesday, 8 PM sharp. Rotonde, by the Tourist Office. I’m in my beige jacket, heart hammering. Phone buzzes in my pocket—another work email, ignored. Days of flirty chats with this Maxime guy from the agency have me soaked already. No time for games. I need cock, now.

Nervous glances around. There he is, striding confident. Tall, sharp eyes. ‘Bonsoir, Madame Carrielle?’ His voice smooth. I hand over the envelope—payment first, business. ‘Maxime? Let’s go. Cours Sextius gallery.’ We chat on the walk. I spill about my real estate empire, lonely nights. He’s vague, mysterious. Perfect.

The Approach: Tension Builds at the Rotonde

Petite brunette in her forties, that’s me. Classy suit hiding average tits, ass, face. But tonight, I’m starving. Gallery’s meh—contemporary crap. I fake interest, but my mind’s on what’s next. Aix’s fancy vibe, Cours Mirabeau buzzing. Pigeons shitting on perfect facades. We bail quick.

‘Bastide du Cours for dinner.’ I lead. Luxe spot, tiny portions, huge bill. I pay, obvs. He plays cool, laughs off personal probes. Fred’s advice? He’s a myth, one-night fantasy. Wine flows. My perfume hits him finally—spicy vanilla, mixing with my wet pussy scent under the table. Phone vibrates again. Fuck it. ‘Negre-Coste’s close. Room’s booked.’ Keys in hand. ‘Got condoms?’ ‘Always.’

Elevator tension. His assurance flips my nerves to fire. Room’s plush—big bed, muted TV glow. ‘Shower first.’ I bolt in, soap up fast. Out in towel. He kisses soft. Tongue dives in. We hit the sheets. Breath ragged. Waiting for him to own it.

The Explosion: Unleashing the Beast in Negre-Coste

Neck kisses. Hand on tit. Gentle at first—meh. Then grip hard, suck nipple fierce. I arch. ‘Fuck yes.’ Wet flood between legs. Fingers graze clit—zap. ‘Finger me!’ Two plunge in, slick as butter. I grab his wrist, ram deeper. ‘Harder!’ Third finger. Legs up, wide open. His cock throbs.

The Explosion rips. Towel off. He mounts, huge dick splits me. ‘Holy shit, you’re hung like a donkey! Fuck me!’ Head sinks in pillows, eyes roll. I’m his bitch, slut, cum garage, whore. Irony? I’m paying. Love it. Minutes of pounding. Pull out—eyes beg. Flip doggy. Hair yank, ass slap. Crack! Like riding wild stallion. Fesses spread, watch cock devour pussy. I rub clit frantic.

Cum builds. His grunts animal. We explode—scream together. Collapse. He peels condom, tosses. I crawl, suck cock clean. Taste us mixed. Salty bliss.

La Disparition hits calm. Shower quick. Dress silent. ‘Great night.’ Envelope’s gone, he’s paid. Handshake at door. Back to boss lady. Phone buzzes—work. Stride out, stranger again. Adrenaline fades. Till next itch.