Diner Delight - Erotica (Sexy Secrets Book 1)

  Sexy Secrets:

  Diner Delight

  by

  April Fire

  Copyright

  Copyright © 2016 by Author April Fire. All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the author, except in the brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions or locales is completely coincidental.

  Cover Artwork – © 20XX L.J. Anderson of Mayhem Cover Creations

  Cover Photo by prometeus

  This is a work of fiction intended for mature audiences only. All sexually active characters depicted in this publication are 18 years of age or older. Please do not buy if strong sexual situations or explicit language offends you.

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  A Note from April

  Chapter 1

  I was at work when I first met him…

  I waitressed a couple of days a week at the restaurant my husband, Mike, managed. We were both part-timers, working on getting our Master’s Degrees at the university nearby. The place was nothing fancy, just a simple little diner close to the beach, where waitresses wore those old-fashioned uniforms that make them look like a cross between a maid and a stripper. Mine was pink, and short as hell, but I didn’t mind; I liked showing off my legs and ass in that tight little outfit. It definitely boosted my tips, and the big, buff guys from the gym next-door certainly loved it.

  They would come in hungry right after their heavy workouts, covered in sweat and showing off their muscles in barely-there shirts. I watched from a distance as they devoured whatever large, meaty plate was in front of them. They tore into their food with such savage masculinity — it was mesmerizing. I couldn’t take my eyes off them. I didn’t trust myself around them, and stayed far away from their tables. What if I jumped on one of them simply because I couldn’t hold myself back any longer? The sight of all those rippling muscles really got my juices flowing, and I feared the impulse to rip off my clothes and crawl across their table like some horny animal might become too much for me.

  That’s when I would disappear into the ladies room for a few minutes, to relieve myself. No, not to pee, just to take the edge off. On days like today I practically ran to the bathroom. Fortunately, it was empty. I locked the door and tugged on the handle, making sure that it wouldn’t budge.

  I gave the fingers of my right hand a quick lick and reached under my skirt. I was wearing thigh-highs under my uniform, which gave me easy access to my panties. With one swift move of my left hand, I pulled the thin, moist fabric aside. I cupped myself with my right hand and felt the heat oozing out of me. I carefully parted my lips and rubbed my clit for a few seconds, before pushing a finger inside. It slid in easily. I was always pretty wet by this point — I only ran to the ladies room when I was about to burst, at which point I was already dripping wet. The knuckles of my non-probing fingers pressed against the bottom of my ass, stopping me from pushing deeper.

  I fingered myself for a few minutes, exploring and feeling myself from the inside. Eventually, I pulled my finger out. I had to — it was the only way I could taste myself. My pussy ached with emptiness, but the need to taste myself was too strong to ignore. I loved it. Whether it was on my fingers or my husband’s cock, my taste and scent drove me crazy. An old girlfriend from my ‘experimental’ college days introduced me to this wonderful sensation. She would go down on me, shove her fingers inside of me and then put them in my mouth. It was strange at first, but I quickly grew to crave it. The best part was at the end when she’d kiss me, rubbing her wet lips on mine, letting my own juices flow into my mouth. Long story short, I loved it - I loved how I tasted when I was so completely turned on.

  I leaned over the sink and looked at myself in the mirror. I liked what I saw: a horny woman with crazed excitement in her eyes. I opened my mouth and, ever so gently, licked the tip of my finger. I started slowly, savoring every drop of my own juice, but after that short, innocent lick I took my whole middle finger into my mouth. My pace became more urgent, and pretty soon I was licking and sucking my entire right hand. I imagined myself sucking on a big, beautiful cock. It didn’t even have a man attached to it, it was just a piece of deliciously gorgeous meat — irresistible. I couldn’t hold myself back any longer. I wet the fingers of my left hand and shoved them inside myself, while my right hand gently started playing with my clit. I gradually began to increase the pressure on my button as my fingers started sliding across it more vigorously.

  I turned around and put my ass on the sink, the cold porcelain sending shivers through the meat of my cheeks. I put my whole weight on the sink as I spread my legs wide and kept pleasuring myself with both hands. My legs tensed as I braced myself for an oncoming climax. There was a long mirror across from the sink, allowing me a full-access view as an unstoppable drive toward release took over my whole being. I watched myself in the mirror as my muscles flexed and my legs trembled. A tidal wave of bliss washed over me. I loved watching myself cum, but then again, there wasn’t anything that had to do with sex that I didn’t love.

  Chapter 2

  Saturday afternoon found me, as usual, busy at the diner taking care of a handful of tables. Nothing exciting had happened all day, and none of my regular, sexy meat-heads had been in yet to keep me entertained. It looked like a particularly boring day until a handsome stranger walked through the door and grabbed my attention.

  I was in the middle of taking orders from a party of six, but I still managed to get a good look at him in between scribbling orders for chili-cheese fries and bacon burgers. I’d never seen him before, but that didn’t mean much, given that we always had a lot of tourists stopping in for lunch on their way to the beach. Something about this guy really captured my attention. He didn’t have striking good looks or the rippling muscles of my usual eye-candy — he was more on the cute side, but he did have a nice, athletic build.

  He stood about 5 inches taller than me, had playful, gray eyes and full lips that I desperately wanted to bite. He didn’t look like a tourist; instead of their typical attire of flip-flops, baggy shorts and a faded t-shirt, he wore dark jeans and a button-down shirt. His light brown hair was a curly, tussled mass, slightly damp along the hairline, like he’d just gotten out of the shower. I guessed that he had just come from the gym, but unlike my usual customers, he had the decency to wash the sweat off of himself before coming to a place where people eat.

  He walked past me and headed straight to the back of the restaurant. That was Christie’s section, my waifish, blond co-worker. I inhaled his scent as he passed — soap! He had definitely just gotten out of the shower. Even if this guy was only going to play the lead in my erotic fantasy, it was nice that he smelled good. I had been needing a change of scenery, I was starting to get tired of getting myself off with thoughts of the same, sweaty, muscle-bound numbskulls.

  As a married woman, one might ask why did I need all this fantasy? Yes, I had a husband, a loving, perfectly amazing husband, but between working at the restaurant and going to Graduate School, he was under a lot of stress, and was rarely in the mood to play
with me. On top of that, we had been fighting recently, about that very thing.

  I had been trying my best for months now to seduce him but, so far, I’d failed. It didn’t make any sense; other men wanted me, my professors at the university wanted me. Hell, even some women wanted me. But the one person who I really wanted to feel between my legs, the one who had put a ring on my finger a few years back, the one I promised to spend the rest of my life with — I couldn’t get him naked to save my life. I wasn’t used to rejection and this sexual dry-patch hurt my pride immensely.

  I finished up with the table of six and eagerly headed toward the stranger, but Christie was already at his table and had just started writing down his order. Damn, I thought, too late to ask her to let me have him. I watched his tasty lips move as he ordered his meal, and imagined what they would feel like pressed against mine. I started to get hot and rushed back to my station and poured myself a glass of ice water. I had to chug half a glass down just to get my head straight, and I sipped on the rest every time I glanced at the sexy stranger. I had to find a way to manage my restlessness — I couldn’t keep disappearing into the bathroom every time a hot guy walked through the front door.

  My head was racing with thoughts of naked flesh and moist lips. I started making mistakes at my tables: taking the wrong food out, forgetting to refill drinks. I even spilled an order of hot fries on an old man’s lap. I couldn’t stop thinking about sex, and was lost in fantasy when Christie plunked down a large glass of freshly poured iced tea in front of me.

  “Can you take this refill to table four?” she asked, “I need to step out and take a call.” I nodded, grabbed the glass, and headed for table four, which was in the back. It didn’t hit me immediately, but I soon realized I was headed straight for my tempting stranger.

  I did my best to walk as casually as I could, and fought every urge to act seductively. My husband was busy in the kitchen, but the last thing I wanted was for him to come out and see me drooling all over a customer — that would be more than a bit awkward. Embarrassing for him, too, if anyone else noticed.

  “Hi. Here’s your iced tea, sir,” I said as I placed the glass on the table. He reached for it before I could let go, and his hand brushed against mine. As soon as our skin touched, I felt a cold jolt of electricity shoot through me. I quickly withdrew my hand and looked away, hoping he didn’t see the excitement in my eyes.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am.”

  “It’s no problem; I’m just a bit… jumpy,” I replied. “Always been this way.” I certainly wasn’t going to tell him the truth about what his touch did to me. One thing was for sure, it was definitely time for me to run to the bathroom for a bit.

  I turned around and walked away, shaking my hips just a little. I knew his eyes were on my ass — guys always stared at my ass; it just had that effect on them. The only guy who didn’t stare at my it was my husband, the person whose attention I really craved. He used to always joke that my ass was the first thing he noticed about me when we first met.

  I looked toward the kitchen and saw Christie come back on the floor. I waved and pointed toward the bathroom. She knew it meant to cover for me, since we always helped each other out like that.

  I practically ran, slamming the bathroom door shut behind me. I stared at myself in the mirror. My eyes were wild and filled with lust. My hand had already reached up my skirt. I can get off once, real quick, I thought. That should lessen the tension, at least until I could get home and finally get my husband to take off his damn clothes and give me what I’ve been craving.

  My fingers wiggled deep inside of me, moving in and out at a furious pace as I imagined the stranger kissing me, sucking on my nipples, and pressing his hard cock against my ass. I put my fingers in my mouth and sucked on them as hard as I could. I turned around to look at myself in the full-length mirror, but instead of my reflection, I saw the handsome stranger standing in the doorway. How long had he been there?

  In my urgency to get off I had forgotten to lock the damn door. What the fuck was he doing coming into the ladies room? I looked around, one hand still under my skirt, and saw a dirty urinal. “Oh shit,” I gasped, “this is the men’s room!”

  He must think I’m some kind of nymphomaniac, I thought as I slowly pulled my hand out from between my legs.

  “May I come in?” he asked with a glint in his eyes. I said nothing, and he took a step toward me, letting the door close behind him. He looked calm, not the slightest bit fazed by my lurid behavior.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, “but this is all your fault. I couldn’t help myself after your hand…”

  “Touched mine?” He finished my sentence, stepping closer to me. “So, how can we fix this… predicament?” he asked, moving still closer. “Any thoughts?” he whispered as he leaned in, his lips floating only inches from mine.

  “Let me see…” I uttered as he gently kissed the delicate skin below my jaw. His hand rubbed across my nipple through my uniform’s thin material. The heat from his hand flowed into my breast.

  “May I… get a taste?” He looked at me with eyes full of hunger. It was the same look that my famished, muscle-born meat-heads had in their eyes when I plopped a juicy steak in front of them. He knew where my hands had just been and knew what they tasted of.

  I took two of my fingers and brought them up to his face. He ran his tongue along their length, licking off all of my juice, before taking them both into his mouth. He wrapped his lips around them and sucked hard, desperate for more of my essence. I couldn’t let him have all of it, I had to get some for myself, so I kissed him while he was still sucking on my hand.

  I reached my free hand around him and grabbed his ass, squeezing as hard as I could. It felt nice, round and firm. I kept squeezing and pulled him into me. He thrust toward me, pressing his, still-cloaked cock against me. I rubbed myself on his hard shaft, gently circling my hips and moving up and down in a slow, sensual rhythm. I turned around to get a view of the two of us in the sink mirror. I arched my back and bent my knees, pressing myself into him harder as I kept rubbing my ass in circles against his cock. I could feel him growing harder, which didn’t seem possible. How big was he going to get?

  He bent forward, leaning into me and biting my neck hard. I didn’t give a damn if he left marks. Mike had been warned; I’d told him that if he didn’t give it to me, then I would find someone else who would. Maybe he thought I was joking, but still, he should know better than to ignore my needs. What else could he expect from me? I was too young and too full of life to let myself wither away because he wasn’t in the mood to have sex. If he found out — hell, he had it coming. And right now, nothing was going to stop me from satisfying my hunger.

  The stranger’s bite stung. It felt so good, sending ripples of pleasure through my entire body. I reached back and tugged on his belt buckle, working to free his cock from its denim confines. I kept grinding myself against him as his hand reached down and guided mine in its effort to release his pulsing rod. My fingers brushed against the delicate skin of his shaft, causing both of us to shudder in delight.

  I turned around and dropped to my knees, silently begging for a taste of his cock. I felt like a crazed animal ready to devour its prey. My heartbeat shook my body with excitement as I gazed at his manhood. It wasn’t the biggest I’d ever seen, but it must have been the hardest. It was solid as a rock and engorged with blood. It was hot, seeping heat into my hand as I began to stroke it up and down with a firm grip. I ran my tongue along his length, from base to tip and was rewarded with a delicious drop of pre-cum that sat glistening on the head of his cock, waiting to be collected. I licked my delicious reward from his swollen head and savored it for a moment before taking him into my mouth.

  I wrapped my lips around his shaft and did my best to gobble him whole. I got his cock good and wet, making it easier to slide down my throat. He grasped the back of my head with both hands, guiding me into swallowing his entire length. I pressed my face into him, feeling him hit t
he back of my throat each time I bottomed out. His grip on my head became a gentle squeeze as he thrust himself into my face, sending his length deep into my throat. His grip grew stronger as his pace quickened, driving us both into a sweaty frenzy.

  Suddenly, he stopped, grabbed my upper arms and pulled me up from the ground. “I want to feel you,” he said, roughly pushing my skirt up and out of the way. I took a step back and spread my legs slightly, allowing him more access. His hand guided the head of his cock to my moist opening. He entered, spreading me completely. I felt a slight tinge of pain mixed with pleasure. He let out a groan as he eased himself into me, my smooth, wet skin stretching around his entire length. He pushed himself in fully, balls deep, and cupped my butt cheeks with his hands. He lifted me and placed me on the sink. I prayed it was strong enough to hold our combined weight. He started pounding into me, fiercely — nothing would stop us from achieving release. The tension had built so quickly, so steeply, that it felt like I was on a runaway train. The only thing I could do was brace for impact.

  It felt amazing to be so completely filled up by a total stranger. I didn’t know his name — and I didn’t want to. It didn’t matter; nothing mattered to me anymore, except the feeling of his granite-hard cock fucking the sense out of me. He pounded away, harder and harder. We were both lost in each other; two sweaty animals writhing together in a filthy diner bathroom. I began to feel that distant familiar build-up of pleasure forming in my core. His cock grew even harder and began throbbing rhythmically until he blew his load deep inside me. He let out a low, guttural grunt in my ear and bit my neck hard, sending me over the edge. My body trembled as a pulsing pleasure rolled over me. I pulled the handsome stranger closer in, devouring his mouth.