Saucy Nurse

A burger joint after midnight, a threesome, a body fest,

It was super late when I finished my rostered shift at St Martha's Hospital.

God, I was tired.

I had completed ten days straight duty and was looking forward to a well-earned four days off.

Stuff it being Valentine's Day — the event would pass me by.

I'd sleep through the swooning and the gushy mush.

After the patron Saint of Love's Day, some clubbing and a hot guy — screw romance — just give me realistic hardcore sex.

A girl can hope!

Yeah, real stiff cock tomorrow night.

My last black coffee at 2300 barely kept me awake.

I will never know where I got the hankering for a burger with the frickin lot from, but I got the craving. Juicy meat tastes swirled in my mouth.

It was after 2:00 a.m. as I turned off the highway into an unfamiliar shopping precinct, looking for one of those 24/7 burger joints.

The retail zone strip was dead; it was technically Tuesday morning, February 14th. The 24/7 fitness franchise was open, but it was a stomach-yearning workout, not my body, that needed immediate attention.

I nearly missed a burger joint; it was so dimly lit.

I backed up fifty metres illegally but was the only vehicle moving. I parked opposite The Burger Place, and my mind was constructing my feast as I locked my car.

I was going to have the lot—the entire saliva-drooling beefcake. Not one of those franchise pre-made ones where the wrapper tastes better.

No: a locally made-to-order superior burger with the big bun, a whopper of a quality beef patty, cheese, grilled onion, beetroot, pineapple, fried egg with a soft yoke, bacon, a slice of tomato, lettuce, some pickles, and mustard for a bit of zing.

I was constructing my order as I entered the vacant joint.

Oh, the best pleasures are the guiltily constructed ones. I was having the lot.

The first thing I saw was the order board behind and above the counter. There were the standard burgers and the option to construct your own with all the sides.

Oh, I didn't give a toss about the calories.

Screw the World Health Organisation scares on excessive bacon and beef in your diet. The juices were going to dribble, and I was having an indulgence moment.

Beef, beefcake, the guy behind the counter, was buff and rugged.

Two days of stubble and badass grey eyes.

Yeah, I realised suddenly I needed a pussy meal as much as a burger deal.

Maybe the bugger treat!

And screw the first hours of Valentine's Day.

The beefcake dude's fingers were tapping the counter. My eyes tried to stay on the board above his head, but I regularly took in his chest, biceps and chiselled jaw.

Food or sex, seriously, I thought, the choice, a no-brainer.

I realised I still had my white uniform and name tag on. He was checking me out and, no doubt, doing hopeful guy calculations based on wild porn nurse stereotypes.

Damn it, he knew I was Sister Rose Valentine.

I just knew he was Hunk Guy.

Screw life and my parents too.

Yeah, I was born on Valentine's Day and got the fuckin' roses in my name too. 

"The lot," I said.

I was hot guy distracted, and I knew my inner double meaning.

"Oh, the lot," he shot back, "Really, the cook and me."

"Pardon," I replied, but not in a shocked way.

I had heard him.

I saw the sexual intent in his eyes. I knew I had mentally stripped him as he stood behind the counter.

In a fraction of a second, I pictured myself on the bench.

"Get on the bench," he said as if he were a mind reader, "Stop playing games. You are one saucy chick, nurse Rose."

If he had said,  Ms Valentine — I was prepared to slap the fucker and walk out!

Mmm: Yeah, I clambered up on the bench from a counter stool, thinking, male sauce.

"Love your blue eyes, and let's get that long dark hair free from your ponytail," and he did.

My ripped dude was on the counter bench. His meat stick was hanging out of his pants, hot and ready for a workout, and boy was my mouth organised.

I took his cock in my hand. He was kneeling, and I was lying under him on my back. His cock came into my mouth from above and behind, filling my gob from an unexpected and exciting angle.

Raw meat never tasted so good.

He made me feel extra horny and a dirty tramp. I had the delicious, so good, so bad girl moment combined.

He was shoving his pecker into my mouth. Packing it in. I was sucking, licking and massaging his balls. Tactile and gummy wet. A spit-drenched, groaning male shaft and one gob happily filled.

"Ugh, ugh," from a guy who could have been a caveman.

Continuous sucking and licking of his cock head brought a smear of precum to my lips.

He groaned, "Orrgh, that's good! Orrgh, so good! But let's save the gravy for your arse!"

Yeah, the action was heating up.

He was gorgeously hard now, and I knew he was enjoying his cock piston thrusting through my big O puckered lips.

He was a clairvoyant as he dragged his knees over my body, obviously going on a pussy hunt.

He knew our double need. His body hovered over mine, with his cock dangling hard between his legs. So easy to grab and work with my hands, mouth and tongue. I sucked him off back between his legs.

I chowed on his meat while he noshed on my pulpy wet flaps.

Oh God, he was good where it counted between my already wet thighs.

He had yanked my panties to the side and was exploring my pussy and butthole together with his fingers and tongue.

It was a genuinely intense, rapid sixty-niner.

He found my clitty and knew how to appreciate it. So I lay back, rubbing and gobbling his balls, and cooed in fem-delight as my pussy was tongued deep and my arsehole nicely fingered.

"Ooh, yeah, ooh, yeah!"

But I wanted the lot.

I squeezed out from under him and urged him to lay down while I sat over his face. I had the pleasure of watching his tongue tease my already over-excited, nicely-trimmed pussy flaps.

He basted my girly parts like munching on a delicate, delicious lunch.

He got to smell everything that was energised in me. My musky aroma was released in abundance.

I was arching up as he raised his head, somehow targeting my clitty with his tongue tip and digging a finger into my butthole at the same time.

I would have hit the low-hanging lights over the counter if another cock hadn't suddenly entered my mouth.

It was the cook emerging from the kitchen.

My pelvis was rocking. My pussy was expecting an orgasm and a hard dick. When suddenly, my mouth was full of stiff pecker.

Oh, we want it all, and sometimes we get it.

The two pricks' hands were all over me. My shoes were off. My uniform was next, along with my titties released from my bra. Then my panties were yanked off.

They made of meal of me. A total body chow-down.

The two guys had me on the counter stool now. The hunk was between my legs, which were raised over his shoulders, and the cook remained content to get his dick back in my mouth.

I sucked his sausage like a whore. I felt great because, at the same time, my pussy was being vacuum syphoned. My clitty pursed between the big dude's lips. Drawn out from my body, my little nub of joy gave me a real girly treat.

He clamped his lips over my flaps and ate me out as I had never been eaten out before. I was instantly intent on dining out more. It was thigh quivering.

He suckled, slurped and lapped my privates.

I threw my head back and moaned.

"Orrgh, that is heaven! Orrgh, orrgh, orrgh!"

The cook's cock was God knows where, but his hands and mouth had found my breasts and sensitive nipples. He was roughish but brazenly good.

My hunk, his tongue was skilfully working first my butt furrow, tongue fucking it, the randy bastard and then his pink tip reverberated against my exposed erect girly pinky pearl.

While two of his fingers were crooked and hooking in my butt crack.

I sprang a cum leakage. My thighs bathed in girly jus.

Uncontained and unrestrained.

My girly juices smeared my slit, and he spread my girly gel over my perineum to my tight back door. He enjoyed a tasty treat as my inner wetness was released and shared.

"You taste like honey and vanilla," he quipped.

We had started on the bench on a high. The stool was a step-down, but the action had escalated.

As the two cock addicted blokes now took me to the floor, I was on the stairway to girly bliss before I had time to process it was happening.

Don't get me wrong; I was in the action—the unexpected occurring.

Nothing planned. So, as the debauch occurred, I accepted the deed.

The hunk was under me, easing his cock into my vice-like balloon knot using power prods.

Oh God, it was good.

All I could do was girly coo.

"Mmm, mmm, mmm."

The softest murmurs of pleading satisfaction and absolute bodily thanks as his cock anchored deep in my crack.

I felt full.

How the hell did I know I was only half full? 

It wasn't until I saw the cook's cock approaching my vulnerable, exposed pussy slit with my arse in complete hard satisfaction that I genuinely took on what was happening — as it happened.

"Oh my God," I exclaimed as I took a double beef stack for the first time.

The pleasure escalated better and more intensely than my vibrator in my butt and my fingers delving into my coochie moisture at home. This was a pleasure like no other. So frickin startling!

I groaned. Softly to start. A quiet beseeching cooing. 

"Uhh, uhh, uhh."

Followed by frickin guttural ungirly yelps!

"Orrgh, ahhh, urgh, oh fuck!"

The prick beneath me filled my butt with a steady expanding pulse, and the pecker above me was stiffly grinding into my pussy. The layered, wavy, joyous buzz of delight was twofold.

I could feel the duo pecker spread and the counterbalancing constraining of my content womanly openings, giving yet tightly holding, and now packed and crammed — pecker jammed.

Yeah, I was the chick with the lot.

Cock digging. My butthole squeezed.

Pecker plunging. My pussy sopping.

Cock burrowing. My arse clutched in happiness.

Sausage pummelling. My slit savoured the best of life.

The unbelievable pleasure spasms expanded my known bodily limits. The intensity of basically too much cock was exquisite.

My arse contracted in a series of spasms. A natural stretching combined with a grippy pulsation.

An anal-gasm!

" Holy Hell! Uugghh!"

Then my pussy joined the celebration. My cunt walls tightened as I double-gasmed!

"Orrgh! Orrghh!"

Addicted!

Once tasted like forbidden fruit, I would sin and double sin again because my body didn't stop.

It entered a continua-gasm.

"Hnnghnngg!"

There is no other way to describe it. No lull in the bodily rush of complete pleasure definition.

My arse was ablaze in delight. My pussy heated in rippling climaxes. My body flamed through with undulating pleasure flares. My skin flushed redder than a dozen Valentine's roses.

No guilt in this pleasure either. Hell, it was a calorie burner.

I was sweating. The guys were lathered in perspiration.

Their bodily liquids were mixing with mine as they were very close together, a twofold jizz filling me.

Double-teamed and double-creamed — no dessert needed.

The cook was off me, the hunk was out from under me, but the big bastard scooped the combination of my girly juices and their cum onto his fingers and offered it to me; "Enjoy the sauce, Rose."

Of course, I licked his fingers, bringing to a strange halt — surreal Valentine's Day — meaty, meaty sex.

As I tidied myself, the hunk whispered in the cook's ear.

Jesus, only then did he introduce himself as Stefan and the cook at Sean.

I shared a cold beer with Stefan while the cook said he would create a super deluxe burger — for us all.

Funny how bawdy, racy sex makes you hungry and thirsty.

Stefan turned on the jukebox.

"Dance, pretty Rose," he said, and we did.

Every Breath You Take.

Sean returned with three plates.

"Well," and I blushed —the first time in ages.

Sean had made Valentine's burgers. Heart-shaped buns and hamburgers stuffed to the brim, with a side serving of fried potato hearts.

And Stefan said it, and it was strangely okay, "For Ms Valentine on Valentine's Day, and you're expected for the sweetest and kinkiest of lunches — in a few hours!"

Oh, I was cumming for sure.

The way to a saucy girl's heart is through her hoe holes!