Elena Tjob

Elena trudges through the streets of Venice, her heart heavy and her eyes scanning the endless rows of shops and offices. Her once confident stride has now been replaced by a tired, shuffling gait. The weight of unemployment hung on her neck like an anchor, pulling her down day after day. Her flowing brown hair was tied in a messy bun, and her round cheeks were flushed both by the summer heat and the frustration of rejection after rejection. She clutched a crumpled newspaper tightly in her hands, the job section fluttering in the wind. Ink smudged across her fingertips, leaving a trail of desperation.

She finally finds the courage to cross the threshold of an elegant building near Rialto, where a freshly placed sign announced the search for a "maid for evening cleaning service." Hope flashes in her mind: perhaps here fortune will smile on her. Marco, the employer, a young and attractive man, welcomes her with a smile that does not hide his desire. He looks at her from head to toe, lingering for a long time on her generous breasts that rise and fall slightly with Elena's labored breathing. She feels uncomfortable but does not have the luxury of being able to refuse a job offer.

"Good, Elena," Marco begins, his voice warm and soothing. "I'm glad you're here. The job I'm offering you isn't just cleaning. There will be... conditions." He gazed at her intently, his pupils dilated. "You should know that I have a weakness for beautiful ladies like you. Especially for your... particular qualities." Elena, despite having understood the double meaning, forces herself to remain impassive. "What conditions?" he asks, his voice trembling.

Marco approaches slowly, his hands resting on Elena's hips. "I see that I don't scare you," he smiles, showing perfect white teeth. "Then I guess you'll accept the conditions. You have to come to work here, dressed in a certain way. Without a bra, and in clothes that show off your... wealth." He gives her an appreciative look. "If you accept a little 'extra' work," stressing the word extra rather ambiguously, "it will pay off." The silence thickens, as if the room has filled with embarrassment.

Elena takes a deep breath, her chest heaving and her breasts swaying slightly. She thinks of all the rejections she's received, of the money she doesn't have to pay the rent, of the outstanding bills. She wonders if she's willing to go along with an arrangement like this. Her breath catches, but determination pushes her to speak. "What...what are you asking me to do as extra work?"

Marco, licking his lips, leans in even closer. "Nothing you haven't already experienced," he replies ambiguously. "Thanks to your 'endowment'," Marco's eyes fix on Elena's breasts as he says this, "If you allow me to call them that. And in exchange, I'll pay you double the normal amount in cash." He looks at her sideways, as if expecting a violent response. But Elena, with some newfound courage, nods cautiously, "Just those?" he asks, clarifying the terms of the agreement.

"Of course," he whispers in her ear, his voice heavy with desire. "Whenever I need a little... relief, I can use them. I'm sure they're worth their weight in gold." Elena feels goosebumps, but she can't afford to refuse. She accepts, and Marco's face lights up. She knows she's making a difficult choice, but necessity pushes her to endure the humiliation for the sake of her future.

They start right away, and the tension between them is thick. Elena tries to ignore Marco's hands that constantly move around her breasts, but the feel of those forbidden touches gives her goosebumps. He gives her instructions on how to clean the offices, the desks soaked in male perfume, the leather chairs, the dim lights that create shadows that stretch across the marble floors.

Marco points out an office down the hall, the master's personal room. "There," he says, pointing to the closed door. "You need to do some... special cleaning." Elena approaches, her heart pounding in her chest, her hands sweaty as she grips the broom. She hears Marco's footsteps behind her, the soft sound of fabric caressing the floor. Fear creeps up her spine but she knows there's no escape and asks, "For this extra service, will you give me something right away?"

Marco smiles and approaches, his hands sliding around her shoulders and settling on her breasts. "Let's see how you do," he whispers, "and I'll decide how much you'll pay." He pushes her gently but firmly inside, closing the door behind her. The room is dark, lit only by a soft glow from a lamp on the table. Elena turns, her heavy breathing filling the space between them.

"Take it," Marco orders, gesturing to the cowboy hat that adorns the desk. Elena obeys, her heart pounding. The dark leather of the hat slips between her fingers, warm to the touch. He looks at her, his pupils glowing with excitement. "Now," he continues, "put it on and act like you're going to push me away."

Elena forces herself to remain calm, to not show the fear that is eating her. She lifts her hat, resting it on her head, her lashes shadowing her eyes. The sensation of the leather cylinder on her head makes her feel alien, as if she is wearing someone else's mask. She pulls her shoulders back and lifts her chin, mimicking determination. Then, with a decisive movement, she pretends to push Marco away.

But Marco doesn't move. Instead, he unbuttons the light blouse she is wearing, with a quick, decisive gesture. His warm hands slide over Elena's chest, sliding the fabric over those breasts that her bra can barely contain. The sensation of the fabric opening and her bare skin exposing itself to the cool air makes Elena jump. Her breasts, supported by a sturdy but low-cut bra, rise and fall with labored breathing. Marco watches her, his eyes shining like diamonds, his breathing becoming heavy.

Elena feels like she's falling into an abyss of forbidden desires, but desperation gives her the strength to continue. She leans against the desk, the cold wood contrasting with the heat that's spreading throughout the room. The dim light highlights the white skin of her breasts, the hard nipples that can be glimpsed under her bra. Marco's hands rise, as if attracted by a magnetic force, and begin to delicately massage her breasts, sliding over the hard nipples like pearls. A moan escapes her, and for the first time she realizes that a man's touch hasn't excited her in a long time.

Marco's fingers become insistent, as if they want to free the treasures that the fabric hides. Elena closes her eyes, breathing heavily. Embarrassment mixes with pleasure, and her legs begin to tremble. Then, with a decisive gesture, Marco grabs the hooks of her bra, opening it. The weight of her breasts pours forward, freeing her breasts to rise and fall like waves of the sea. The soft, warm skin of her chest is exposed to the air, and the feeling of vulnerability invades her, but at the same time gives her an unexpected sense of power.

Marco wastes no time in moving closer, his mouth moist and his lips parting in a satisfied smile. Elena's hands tighten around her cowboy hat, trying to resist the urge to cover herself. Instead, she lets go, feeling her employer's hands slide down her chest and curl around her nipples. The touch is rough, but pain and pleasure blend together, creating a sensation that makes her skin crawl. It's been a long time since she's felt anything like this, and yet, fear and disgust give way to a warm desire.

Marco's eyes lock onto Elena's breasts, his pupils dilated with desire. Despite the situation, Elena feels desired and, in a way, satisfied. He continues to manipulate them, touching and pressing, and Elena's breathing becomes even more labored. His fingers move down, seeking the boundary between skin and fabric, to feel their softness and heat. Elena's shirt rises, revealing her pale skin and the mark left by her sturdy bra. Marco bends over and slides his tongue over a nipple, licking it delicately. Elena makes a muffled sound, a mixture of pleasure and humiliation.

With a quick gesture, Marco grabs her shirt, taking it off. Elena's big tits swell and rise, as if they were breathing deeply. While her nipples become more turgid and her dark areolas wrinkle, as if they have been waiting for these kisses for a long time. Elena feels Marco's wet mouth licking her, licking her and biting lightly. Marco's lips move from one nipple to the other, making her tremble with pleasure. His hands grab her breasts, squeezing and pressing hard, as if he wants to absorb all the sensuality they exude.

Elena lets herself go, her head falling back. Marco's lips move to kiss her neck, nibbling the soft skin. Marco's teeth press lightly on her nipples, making her jump. The sensitivity of Elena's breasts lights up like a flame, and the sensation runs down her back, making her feel alive like she hasn't felt in a long time. Marco's breathing, hot and wet, mixes with the sound of his heart beating wildly.

Marco's hands move behind Elena's back, pulling her closer to him to better feel these large, soft objects of his desire. Elena's breasts rise and fall with her labored breathing, as if they were trying to escape from something. Marco watches them with eyes full of lust as his tapered fingers slide over Elena's chest, caressing the skin damp with sweat.

"Are you ready to make me have fun?" he asks, his voice hoarse. Elena doesn't answer, but the tremor that runs through her body says enough. Marco's hands tighten around Elena's breasts, as if they are trying to contain them. He begins to squeeze them, delicately at first, as if he were testing the consistency of a ripe fruit. Then, with a firm gesture, he pushes the nipples between his thumb and forefinger, making them swell as if they are about to burst. Elena lets out a muffled moan, her mouth open in an expression of pain mixed with pleasure.

Marco doesn't stop. His hands move quickly over Elena's soft tits, as if he were kneading bread. Elena's skin turns red, responding to the insistent touch. Her breasts rise and fall to the rhythm of the pleasure that invades them, the soft flesh adapting perfectly to Marco's hands. Her nipples elongate, hard as little marble balls, and respond to every caress, every touch.

Marco's fingers tighten around Elena's breasts as if they were about to suffocate them. Squeezing them hard, he makes Elena make a sound of pleasure that mixes with the sound of the fabric deforming in his hands. Elena feels the pressure growing, the desire consuming her. She hasn't felt anything like this in too long, but the sensation of pleasure that spreads through every pore of her body makes her forget her dignity.

Marco pushes her breasts forward, as if he were trying to control them, to possess them. His hands move quickly, as if they were playing a piano of flesh and skin. Elena abandons herself to these sensations, her knees bend slightly, her breathing becomes labored. Her breasts pushed up and down by Marco's hands as he abandons himself to an almost sadistic enjoyment. Elena's hands cling to his cowboy hat, the only source of comfort in a sea of ​​humiliation.

Marco approaches, his lips parting in a perverse smile. His hands continue to squeeze, pinch, mistreat Elena's breasts, which emit muffled sounds. He looks at her, his eyes shining like stars in a dark night. Marco's hands don't stop, his touch becomes more decisive, pleasure mixes with pain. Elena feels as if she is about to explode, to dissolve in the clutches of this man. And yet, she doesn't rebel.

Elena's big tits rise and fall, as if they were dancing a macabre ballet, to the rhythm of the pleasure that pervades her. Marco takes them in his mouth, one at a time, licking and nibbling as if he were eating a forbidden dessert. Marco's tongue circles around her nipples, making them swell and harden. Elena doesn't know whether to scream or cry, but the sensuality of the moment makes her lose control.

Marco pulls away from Elena, looking at her with lustful eyes. She sees his erection pushing against his pants, the tip peeking out like a snake ready to strike. "Now," he says, his voice raspy and breathless, "sit here." He pushes her gently into a black leather chair.

Elena obeys, her legs shaking and her knees touching in nervousness. Marco comes closer, his breathing heavy as if he's about to explode. He kneels in front of her, his hands coming up to cup her breasts. His fingers clenching the skin that slides between them. Then, with a brusque gesture, he unzips his pants and Marco's cock pops out like a weapon ready for battle. It's hard and hot, the drops of lube glistening like pearls in the sun.

Elena looks down, her eyes locking onto Marco's member. It's large, the glans swollen and red, and it reminds her of forbidden fruit. Fear mixes with desire, but desperation and the need for money silence her. Marco takes it in his hand, moving it to prepare it for his own arousal. Then, he pushes it between Elena's tits, which open as if they were about to swallow something enormous.

The skin of Marco's cock twists, slipping between the soft, warm flesh of Elena's breasts. She sighs, her face red with embarrassment. Marco's hands tighten around her breasts, pushing her tits together forcefully. Elena's breathing becomes labored, her lips opening and closing as if she's about to speak but can't find the words. Marco's cock moves back and forth between her big tits, his balls slapping lightly against Elena's soft belly.

Marco, panting, squeezes Elena's tits around his member as if she's trying to suffocate him. Elena feels her skin tight and warm, her nipples rubbing against Marco's belly with the movement. The pleasure she feels only grows, her breathing becoming more labored, her hands gripping his cowboy hat as if she's about to strangle him.

Every movement of Marco makes his cock slide between Elena's tits, his fingers writhing against her breasts, seeking some relief. The sensation of humiliation and pleasure mix in an explosive cocktail, and the woman realizes with horror that her desire is awakening. She hasn't had a man in a long time, and Marco's touch, however rough and violent, triggers something primal in her.

Elena's hands rest weakly on her boss's arms, her cowboy hat falling to the floor with a silent thud. The leather chair creaks slightly, the sound mixing with the labored breathing of both of them. Marco squeezes her breasts tightly, as if he's trying to extract the pleasure from those swollen breasts. Elena closes her eyes, her mouth half open, her breathing becoming labored.

Marco grunts like an animal in heat, his words becoming dirty and vulgar, talking about how Elena's tits drive him crazy, how the desire to possess them is consuming him. His fingers move quickly, pressing, squeezing, twisting and pulling the soft flesh. Elena feels the heat rising to her face, a mix of embarrassment and pleasure that almost makes her faint.

"These big tits of yours are the size of watermelons," Marco grunts, "and they look like they were made to be fucked!" Elena's hands tighten around the boss's arms, her mouth half open in an expression of mixed horror and pleasure. She feels her breasts rise and fall violently, as if they were responding to those vulgar comments. Marco's desire is felt throughout the room, as if he were about to explode at any moment.

"My cock is having fun between your big tits like it's never had before!" Marco continues, his breathing becoming even heavier. Elena closes her eyes, trying not to think about the words that slide off her like mistletoe. Marco's desire for her breasts makes her feel uncomfortable, but she can't deny the sensuality that spreads throughout the room, like an air full of static ready to unleash a storm.

The muscles in Marco's arms contract, his skin damp from the effort. The pressure on Elena's breasts becomes unbearable, but at the same time exciting as Marco's cock throbs spasmodically. Marco's desire penetrates her, the desire he emanates makes a shiver run down her spine. "I'm going to come in here," Marco growls, "and I'm going to cum like a horse would!"

Elena feels her knees shaking, the knowledge of what is about to happen pervades her. She has no choice but to accept the treatment, for the money, for the hope of a future. With a final effort, Marco pulls away, his cock rising like a flag wet with desire. Then, with a bestial cry, he erupts his hot, thick seed, flooding Elena's chest.

The jets of cum hit Elena's tits as if they were about to be painted with a viscous brush. The warm, wet sensation makes her shiver, but the desire that drove him to that gesture makes her feel alive in a way she hasn't felt in a long time. Marco's load covers Elena's breasts, the drops sliding down like tears of sin.

Marco stands up with difficulty, his hands tightening around his legs to keep from falling. His labored breathing mixes with the awkward silence that fills the room. Elena opens her eyes, the skin of her breasts glistening from the copious ejaculation. It almost looks like she's wearing a white pearl top.

"Wow," Marco murmurs, looking at his masterpiece. "I didn't think you were this good," and he hands her a wad of bills. "Here, with your big tits you've earned as much as a week's work," he says with a lewd smile. "And if you keep entertaining me like this, you'll get a lot of 'extras'."

Elena picks up the money, her hands shaking with tension and disgust. She knows she has just agreed to continue in a dangerous game, but she needs the money. "Marco," she begins to tell him in a shaking voice, "you... promised me that..."

Marco raises a hand, interrupting her. "Shh," he whispers, "don't worry. We've agreed on our deal. I'll pay you double if you let me use your wares in... special ways." Marco's tone of voice was soft, but the request that came with it was anything but gentle. "And next time," he continues, "let's think of something fun. A little role-play, to make things... intriguing."

Elena feels her throat go dry, her hands moving mechanically to clean her breasts. She nods, her face impassive. "What are you asking me to do?" she asks, her voice sounding like it's coming from far away.

Marco smiles at her, his face lit up with a perverse light. "I want next time, we play 'thief and housewife.' You'll be the innocent housewife and I'll be the thief hungry for... tits," he says, his words becoming soft and caressing like silk. "And don't forget, Elena, you must continue to dress appropriately for my... entertainment."

Elena, her breasts still wet with cum, looks up at him with sad but determined eyes. She nods slowly, her face impassive. She has accepted the game, and now she is paying the price. "Alright, next time," she says, her voice cracking.

Marco, the boss, nods appreciatively. "Great," he replies, his face lighting up with pleasure. "I like your cooperation. Next time, think of something special. Dress like a real housewife, but without a bra. Here are the keys to the building and the room; tomorrow you arrive here around 9 pm and I will join you, in the meantime you start cleaning this room."

Elena nods, her face impassive. Disgust mixes with gratitude for the money. Taking the keys, she feels as if she is holding the double-edged knife of her own destiny. She knows that the path she has taken will lead her to dark places, but the hope of an economic solution pushes her forward. "Okay," she says, "I'll do as you said."

That night Elena can't sleep. Her thoughts race through her head like murky waters, unable to chase away the images of Marco and the pleasure he has so cruelly torn from her. Her hands tremble at the thought of having to do it again, but the need for money binds her to that humiliation. Suddenly, she finds herself thinking about how desired she felt, how the breasts, the size of which she had felt guilty for years, were now giving her an unexpected power.