In the dim, neon-flickered glow of a late-night diner on the fringes of campus town, where the coffee burned bitter and the tips barely covered textbooks, Eliz Benson moved like a ghost in a dream—twenty-one and breathtakingly shy, her porcelain skin flushed under the harsh fluorescents, auburn waves pinned in a loose bun that begged to be unraveled. By day, she was the diligent student, nose buried in sociology tomes; by night, the waitress in a starched uniform that did little to hide her lithe, 5'5" frame—pert C-cup breasts pressing against the apron strings, hips swaying with unintentional grace in her sensible skirt, hazel eyes downcast behind wire-rimmed glasses that couldn't quite mask the quiet fire simmering beneath her reserved smiles. Shyness was her armor, a veil she'd worn since freshman orientation, but tonight, as the clock ticked toward closing and her shift dragged like an unanswered prayer, Eliz craved something reckless—a spark to shatter the monotony, to prove the legends she'd whispered to herself in the dark.The bell above the door jingled like fate's cruel joke, admitting two figures who eclipsed the room: towering black men in tailored suits that strained against broad shoulders and chiseled frames, their presence a magnetic pull that made the air hum. Darius, with his smooth mahogany skin, close-cropped fade, and eyes like polished obsidian, slid into a booth; beside him, Khalil, darker still, with a shaved head gleaming under the lights and a smile that curved like a blade, his massive hands dwarfing the menu. They were businessmen from the city—finance wolves, or so they claimed—but Eliz's gaze snagged on the bulge in Darius's slacks, the way Khalil's thighs filled the vinyl seat, stirring that forbidden curiosity she'd buried under study notes. The legend... is it true? The thought bloomed hot in her core, her pussy clenching against the growing dampness in her panties as she approached, notepad trembling slightly in her grip."Evening, fellas. What can I get you?" Her voice was soft, almost a whisper, but they looked up with twin grins that stripped her bare—Darius's deep rumble ordering burgers, Khalil's teasing lilt adding, "And whatever the pretty waitress recommends... for dessert." Heat flooded her cheeks, but she didn't look away, her hazel eyes flicking between them, the shy student warring with the woman who ached to know. The shift crawled by in stolen glances—refills that lingered too long, a napkin "accidentally" brushing Khalil's thigh—but as the diner emptied, the last customer shuffling out into the rain, Eliz found herself alone with them, the fluorescent buzz her only witness."You closing up?" Darius asked, rising with predatory grace, his six-foot-four frame towering over her as Khalil flanked him, the booth suddenly feeling like a trap sprung. Eliz's heart hammered, shyness cracking like thin ice under their heat, but she nodded, her fingers toying with the top button of her uniform blouse. "Yeah... just us now." The words hung heavy, laced with invitation she hadn't meant to voice, but Khalil caught it—his hand grazing her wrist as he stood, thumb tracing her pulse. "Shy type, huh? But those eyes say different. Ever wonder if the rumors are true? About us... big boys?"The legend crashed over her like a wave—whispers from dorm-room gossip, the myths of size and stamina that made her wet in secret. Eliz's breath hitched, her free hand unbuttoning her blouse without conscious thought—the fabric parting to bare her lacy white bra, the swell of her natural tits rising with each shallow pant. "I... yeah. I want to know." Shyness shattered; she was all fire now, hazel eyes locking on theirs as Darius's hand cupped her breast through lace, thumb circling the nipple until it pebbled hard, drawing a gasp that echoed off the Formica counters. Khalil's fingers traced her jaw, tilting her face up for a kiss that devoured—tongues tangling deep and demanding, his free hand yanking her skirt up to delve her thong, fingers parting slick folds to tease her throbbing clit.They migrated to the diner's back booth like conspirators in a heist—the vinyl cool against her heated skin as Darius shoved her blouse open fully, bra following in a whisper of lace, her beautiful natural tits spilling free: full and firm, pale globes tipped with rosy buds that begged for mouths. "Fuck, look at these," he growled, latching on with voracious hunger—suckling one peak with teeth and tongue, the wet pull drawing moans from her throat as Khalil claimed the other, his dark hand kneading the soft flesh while his mouth descended, nipping the sensitive underside. Eliz arched, head falling back against the booth, her hands fisting their shirts as pleasure coiled low—shy no more, her pussy dripping against Khalil's probing fingers, two digits plunging her velvet heat in curling thrusts that grazed her G-spot.But the legends demanded tribute; she slid to her knees on the gritty floor, the uniform rumpled around her waist like a discarded vow, hands making quick work of their belts—Darius's cock springing free first, thick and ebony-veined, a monster that bobbed heavy and eager, the head flushed and weeping pre-cum like a crown of promise; Khalil's following, longer and curved just so, pulsing with urgent need. "Show me," she breathed, voice husky with command, lips parting to take Darius deep—stretching her mouth around his girth, cheeks hollowing as she sucked with exquisite suction, tongue cradling the underside in swirling laps that had him groaning, fingers tangling in her auburn locks. She deepthroated him whole—the throb against her throat a symphony of salt and stretch, gagging softly yet pushing on, saliva blooming in glossy trails down his shaft.Khalil stepped closer, his length nudging her cheek, and Eliz multitasked like a devotee to excess—her free hand pumping him in fervent twists, thumb circling the head to smear the slick bead, while her mouth alternated: deep-throating Darius until tears pricked her hazel eyes, then switching to lavish Khalil with wet, sloppy pulls, throat working in harmony to take both at once—lips stretching wide around one head while her tongue lashed the other's tip, hands never faltering, the booth a haze of slurps and muffled groans. The diner echoed with her gags and their curses—"Fuck... suck it deeper, baby—take us both"—her natural tits heaving with each bob, nipples grazing their thighs like electric sparks.The trio spilled into the back room then—a storage nook of stacked chairs and forgotten menus, the door clicking shut like a vow sealed. Darius bent her over a prep table, skirt hiked to her waist, thong a soaked scrap ripped away to bare her shaved pussy—lips swollen and dripping like honeyed invitation. "Time to find out," he growled, surging into her slick heat from behind—the stretch sublime, filling her to the hilt with friction that blurred agony and ecstasy, her walls clenching around his ebony girth like silken flames. He pounded deep and deliberate in doggystyle's primal arch, each thrust grinding against her G-spot, his hands gripping her hips to pull her back onto him, palm cracking her ass to bloom rose-pink. Khalil claimed her mouth fully now, facefucking her with controlled bucks that bulged her cheek, saliva cascading down her chin as she gagged and sucked with voracious hunger, her cries muffled into wet gurgles.They rotated like a fever dream: missionary on a makeshift pallet of linens, her legs hooked over Darius's shoulders for soul-deep plunges, Khalil straddling her chest to feed her his length, her tongue swirling the head mid-thrust; reverse cowgirl where she rode Khalil on a stack of crates, ass flexing hypnotic as she ground down, Darius's fingers delving her clit in slick circles. Anal came next, the legend's promise fulfilled—Darius lubing his massive cock before nudging her tight rosebud, the ring yielding inch by searing inch to his girth, stretching her asshole wide in a burn that had her sobbing ecstasy, Khalil's cock plunging her pussy in tandem DP, the dual fullness overwhelming as they thrust in counterpoint—one delving deep as the other withdrew, her body a vessel of overstuffed bliss, screams echoing off the walls like a profane aria.Climaxes cascaded: Eliz shattering first in the DP frenzy, body quaking, holes spasming in milky clutches around their cocks, juices squirting in hot arcs that soaked their balls; Darius erupting in her ass with a roar, flooding her depths with thick ropes that spilled out in creamy rivulets; Khalil following, pulling out to paint her natural tits in pulsing jets, streaking the pale globes like liquid sin. But the finale beckoned—both men fisting their slick lengths as she knelt before them, mouth agape and tongue extended like a landing strip, blue eyes gleaming through tears of rapture. They unleashed together: two facials in hot, generous floods—Darius's cum splattering her cheeks and forehead, Khalil's flooding her mouth and chin, pearlescent ropes dripping from her lashes and lips as she savored it, swallowing the salty bounty with a greedy hum, rubbing the remnants into her tits like sacred oil.In the hushed aftermath, tangled amid the storage nook's chaos—uniform rumpled, body marked in red handprints and bite marks—Darius and Khalil flanked her on the linens, breaths syncing in sated silence, hands roaming possessive over her curves. "Legend true enough?" Darius murmured, nipping her earlobe. Eliz laughed, throaty and triumphant, her hazel eyes gleaming through the glaze. "More than. But next shift... bring friends." On www.private.com, Eliz Benson's interracial trio wasn't just curiosity satisfied—it was a symphony of stretch and surrender, one gaping thrust at a time.
