bun in the oven special

Xiangling spun away from the stalls with another cheerful wave and pushed through the swinging kitchen door. She never locked it. She never even closed it all the way. From every table in the front you could watch her bare ass and glistening pussy sway and bounce as she moved between the stove and the cutting board, the short apron flipping uselessly with every step.

A pair of rough-looking sailors decided the view was invitation enough. They followed her straight in, already pulling their cocks free. Xiangling glanced over her shoulder, eyes wide, voice rising in that familiar high protest.

“Ah—hey! I’m in the middle of the lunch rush, you can’t just—mmph!”

The first sailor bent her over the counter, yanked the apron aside, and buried himself to the hilt in one hard thrust. Xiangling’s hands flew out to brace against the cutting board; a knife clattered to the floor. She kept protesting in short, breathless bursts—“Wait, the soup’s going to boil over—! At least let me finish the garnishes—!”—but her hips pushed back to meet every slam and her cunt made wet, filthy sounds around the thick cock stretching her open. The second sailor simply waited his turn, stroking himself while she was fucked through three more orders.

(https://im.ge/i/QMpFOaG)
(artist: miyu)

When the first one came, he did it deep, flooding her with a heavy creampie that immediately started leaking down her thighs. Xiangling whimpered, still stirring a pot with one shaky hand.

“You’re going to make the broth cloudy… at least pull out next time…”

He pulled out. The second sailor took his place without a word and started railing her just as hard. She never stopped them. She never truly tried.

On the wall above the pass-through hung a small chalkboard menu of “extra services,” written in Xiangling’s own cheerful handwriting:

Throat special – 80 Mora

Cunt on the side – 100 Mora

Put a bun in the oven – 150 Mora

She took open pride in keeping everything affordable for the little guy. Even the breeding surcharge was cheaper than a decent bottle of wine. “A full belly and a full womb shouldn’t bankrupt anyone,” she had once explained with a bright smile, as though the logic were obvious.

A new customer at the counter raised a hand and pointed at the board.

“Throat on the side, then a bun in the oven. two thirty total, yeah?”

Xiangling beamed, cheeks still flushed from the kitchen creampie, and wiped a smear of cum from her inner thigh with the corner of her apron.

“Coming right up!”

She dropped to her knees right there at the pass-through, opened her mouth, and took him to the root in one smooth motion. The customer groaned, grabbed her twin-tails, and started fucking her throat with short, merciless strokes. Spit ran down her chin and onto her proper top; she kept her eyes up and her hands politely on her own thighs, only gagging when he pushed especially deep.

(https://im.ge/i/QMpF2pa)
(artist: miyu)

When he decided he was finished with her mouth he hauled her up, spun her around, and shoved her onto her back across the nearest prep table. Ingredients scattered. Xiangling’s short apron was flipped completely up onto her stomach. He locked her legs over his shoulders, lined up, and drove into her still-creampied cunt in one brutal thrust.

“Ah—! Easy, the dough for the buns is right there—!”

(https://im.ge/i/QMpF1Ax)
(artist: miyu)

He ignored her, pinning her wrists above her head and fucking her into the table hard enough that the wood creaked. Xiangling’s protests dissolved into high, happy moans. She still tried to keep talking about the food—“Don’t knock the chili oil over, it’s expensive—!”—but every word was broken by the force of his hips. When he finally buried himself to the hilt and came, flooding her with a second thick load, she only arched and clenched around him, taking every drop like it was just another special of the day.

(https://im.ge/i/QMpFY6m)
(artist: miyu)