Construction Workers Sexy Lunch Break Turns Into First Anal Fisting

DJ's been swinging hammers with a crew of thick-necked hard-hats all morning, their sweat-dark tank tops clinging to every slab of muscle. Each time one of them bends over, his mind flashes to a fat cock slamming the back of his throat. He smothers the thought, barks another line about breaking bitches in half, then feels the urge crawl right back under his skin like an itch he can’t scratch. Midday he books a quick fuck just to prove he’s still a man, pays upfront, and walks straight into Aiden’s trap. She clocks his loud posturing in two seconds flat, yanks his filthy secret into the daylight—those little pink panties stretched around his tiny cage—and starts beating the truth out of him. The cane snaps across biceps, pecs, ass, leaving welts that throb in time with his racing pulse. When he’s shaking and stripped of every boast, she feeds him twelve inches of strap-on: shoves it down his throat till he gags, then drives it straight up his ass until he’s nothing but a drooling hole. Once he’s loose and open she sinks her fist inside, knuckles popping past his ring, pressing his prostate until he writhes like he’s coming—only the cage keeps him from spilling a drop. Satisfied, Aiden plants her ass on his tongue, rides the vibrator to her own orgasm, then seals him inside a coffin she keeps under the bed. Lunch break’s over. DJ isn’t going anywhere.