Sex stories

Tonight I was about to take the metro when I spotted a kebab shop across the street. I was hungry, sure, but let’s be honest: I also know hot guys often work the counter. I walked in and greeted them, feminizing my voice just a little. The youngest guy answered. Not very tall, maybe 5’7”, slim, but damn—handsome, with a nice beard and a lover smile.

He took my order, asked what sauces I wanted. Of course, I said white sauce and Algerian—while giving him a cheeky smile. I said I’d eat in, and he told me to take a seat. Halfway through my plate, he walked past me toward the kitchen. I looked at him, he looked back. When he returned, we locked eyes again—I winked. He went back behind the counter, and we kept exchanging glances.

On his next pass, he muttered something I couldn’t catch, but his look wasn’t angry—more like intrigued. Then, he walked right into the restroom just behind my table. I waited a few moments, faked spilling some sauce on my sweater, and headed toward the bathroom.

“Hey babe,” he whispered the moment I arrived. We talked briefly—he said he finishes work at 2AM (and it was barely 10PM). He asked if I lived alone. I said no. He hesitated, maybe not ready to do anything while on the clock. But the tension was real.

I reached for his bulge through his pants. “You want a blowjob?” I asked. He grinned. “Don’t you wanna get fucked instead?” Oh yes. Yes, I do.

We slipped into a stall. I sat on the toilet and pulled out his thick, already-hard cock. I started sucking it slowly, but he didn’t wait long before pushing it deep into my throat, nose to pubes. I enjoyed every inch, running my hands across his chest, abs, arms.

I asked if he wanted to fuck me. He nodded. I turned around and bent over the toilet. He started fucking me hard, but something felt off. He stopped, told me to wait a few minutes and meet him in the disabled toilet stall. I went back to my seat like nothing happened. He came out moments later.

I finished my food quickly, grabbed my stuff, and headed to the other toilet. I didn’t lock the door. Within seconds, he entered—still in his work apron. He laid it down like a blanket and told me to lie on it.

This time was different: he laid fully on top of me, alternating between rough thrusts and sweet kisses on my neck, caressing my face, making me feel like his. His thick cock was sliding in and out perfectly. As his breathing sped up, I gripped his hands tightly. His whole body pressed down as he came deep inside me, filling me with his “white sauce.”

We stayed there a moment, then got dressed. We exchanged numbers. I left the restroom, rewarded for my kebab, and headed out—with the other server eyeing me curiously.

I’ll definitely come back. Maybe next time I’ll taste his sauce too.