Cindel’s Overflow – Kuya Binata
By Cindel3435
After that burst of heat with Kuya by the laundry area — short, reckless, but enough to leave my thighs tingling — I took the narrow path home, still catching my breath. The scent of soap barely masked the scent of what we did. I adjusted my clothes, but the dampness between my legs kept reminding me I wasn’t done.
As I passed the dimly lit tindahan near the corner, a sound pulled me out of my thoughts. A soft moan. Barely a whisper — but unmistakably full of need.
I slowed down.
Peeking past the wooden post, I saw him. A boy, maybe 19. Shirtless. Watching something on his phone. And when I moved closer, it hit me — porn.
I smirked.
So ikaw nga pala ‘yon…
I remembered him now — the quiet one from the other day, always teased by his barkada. They’d point, laugh, saying he always hung out there watching bold clips. He’d just keep his head down while the others glanced at me, giggling like schoolboys. I ignored it then. I was still full.
But tonight?
Tonight, I was starving.
He was so lost in his own world, he didn’t even notice me creeping up. I saw his hand stroking himself beneath his shorts, slow and desperate. His back was turned, vulnerable, unaware.
I could’ve scared him. Could’ve ended it.
But I didn’t.
I watched.
Closer.
Slower.
And just as I took another step — he turned. Panic in his eyes. He yanked his shorts up in a flash, but it was too late. I’d already seen how hard he was.
“Dito ka pa talaga sa gilid tindahan ah?” I said, arching my brow, lips curling. “Kanina pa kita pinapanood. Galaw ka nang galaw, parang kang may tinataguan.”
His lips parted, but no words came out. Just shame. And something else.
Need.
He looked like he was about to run. I didn’t let him.
“Aalis ka na ba? Sayang naman…” I stepped forward, pressing one finger to his chest. “Baka gusto mo… ako na lang tumapos sa sinimulan mo.”
He blinked. Swallowed. Nodded like a boy who had no clue what he just agreed to.
I took his hand and led him behind the tindahan, into their little tambayan — a small wooden bench, surrounded by shadows. Just enough privacy for sin.
“Sit,” I commanded. He obeyed.
I sank to my knees between his legs. He was already trembling when I pulled down his shorts again. There it was — twitching, dripping, eager. I didn’t touch it at first. I just blew warm air over the tip, watching him squirm.
“You’ve been bad,” I whispered. “But lucky for you… I’m in the mood to reward that.”
Then I took him.
All of him.
Slow and wet, my mouth working like a rhythm he couldn’t escape. He whimpered, hands clenched, toes curling in his slippers. But I didn’t stop. I let him fall apart on my tongue, controlling every twitch, every gasp.
And I was still soaked. Still hungry.
So I stood, turned around, and slid my shorts down. I let him see how wet I was — glistening under the moonlight. I bent over the bench, spread myself open, and looked back.
“No condom,” I said, “but if you want… you can try me raw.”
He didn’t even answer.
He just moved.
And when he entered me, I gasped — not from pain, but from surprise. He filled me instantly, stretching me open like he belonged there. Like he was made for this.
He started slow, unsure. But I gripped the edge of the bench and pushed back, teaching his hips how to move.
“Harder,” I moaned. “Right there. Don’t stop until I say so.”
And he didn’t.
He slammed into me over and over, the sound of skin on skin echoing in the night. The bench creaked. My breath hitched. My legs shook.
But I held on.
Until he hit that perfect, aching spot inside me.
Again.
And again.
I bit my lip, eyes rolling back.
Then I came — hard — the kind that made my legs give out and my nails scratch the wood. He came with me, moaning into my back, filling me, flooding me.
We both stayed there, panting, sweating, trembling in the dark.
When I finally stood up and looked back at him, he looked ruined.
Satisfied.
And completely mine.
—–
After couple of days passed.
It was just past midnight.
The air was thick. The streetlights flickered like they didn’t want to stay awake. Silence wrapped the neighborhood, except for the soft hum of crickets and the occasional stray dog barking in the distance.
But I was wide awake.
Still aching.
Still wet.
Still thinking about what happened that night.
And I knew — without question — that he’d be back.
So I went out. No bra. Just a loose shirt that barely kissed my thighs, and shorts so thin they clung to every curve. I walked past the tindahan casually, pretending like I wasn’t hunting.
But there he was.
Same spot. Same boy. Same hunger in his eyes when he saw me.
He stood there, frozen, like he was unsure if what happened was real.
I stopped in front of him and leaned in close, whispering, “Naghihintay ka ba? Nagustuhan mo ba talaga?”
He nodded slowly, eyes locked on my lips.
I smirked and took his hand. “Come.”
I led him behind the tindahan — where the shadows swallowed everything. No lights. Just a low bench, some empty crates, and the dark.
As soon as we were out of sight, I pushed him against the wall and kissed him — hard, rough, claiming. He kissed back like he was drowning, hands desperate on my waist.
But I wasn’t letting him lead.
I pulled back, looked him in the eyes, and whispered, “Hands behind your back.”
He obeyed.
I dropped to my knees again, but this time, slower. My fingers pulled down his shorts in one smooth motion. He was already hard. Throbbing.
“You missed this?” I teased, stroking him lightly. “Or you missed me?”
He whimpered. I didn’t give him a chance to answer.
I swallowed him whole, letting my tongue swirl around the head, tasting his salt and precum. He trembled, struggling to stay silent. But the thrill of being outside, hidden but exposed — it made everything hotter.
He tried to move. I slapped his thigh gently. “Stay still.”
When I was done, I stood up and turned around, facing the cold wall. I bent over, slowly pulling my shorts aside, exposing my soaked slit glistening under the faint moonlight.
“You want it again?” I whispered, looking back at him. “Then do it right this time.”
He moved fast — desperate, rough. I felt him slide in raw and hard, stretching me again. But this time, I was wetter. Ready. Hungry.
He thrust into me with reckless abandon, his grip tight on my hips. I bit my lip, holding back the moans threatening to escape.
Behind a tindahan.
At midnight.
The thrill of being caught only made it better.
I grabbed his hand and guided it to my throat. “Harder,” I growled. “Make me regret coming back.”
And he did.
He slammed into me so deep I saw stars, his free hand squeezing my ass, his breath ragged behind me. I clawed the wall, arching back against him, meeting every thrust with my own.
The crates shook.
The bench groaned.
But I didn’t stop.
Not until he was begging to release.
“Not yet,” I whispered, breathless. “You finish when I say so.”
He whimpered. I clenched tighter.
And when I finally allowed him, we exploded together — my moan swallowed by the dark, his warmth flooding me again.
We both collapsed, panting against the wall, skin sweaty and shaking.
I turned to him, kissed his neck.
But just as he reached for me, he paused.
“Uhm… Ate,” he said, voice a little shaky. “May… may isa pang gustong sumubok.”
I tilted my head, amused. “Isa pa?”
He looked toward the shadows.
That’s when I saw him.
His friend.
Stepping forward from the dark.
Tall, lean, wearing nothing but boxers and nerves. His lips parted like he wanted to speak, but his eyes were stuck between my thighs.
“Kanina pa siya nakasilip,” the first boy whispered.
I smiled, licking my bottom lip.
“Come here,” I said to his friend. “Don’t be shy. Gusto mong tikman kung anong nalasahan niya, ‘di ba?”
He swallowed hard, nodding.
I walked backward slowly, sitting on one of the crates with legs spread, my thin shirt hanging open, breasts peeking beneath. “Both of you… dito.”
They came closer.
I grabbed the first boy’s shorts and tugged them down. He was already hard, twitching with need.
Then I turned to his friend and whispered, “Tingnan natin kung kaya mong sabayan siya.”
I pulled him in, slid my fingers under his waistband, and smiled when I felt the weight of him. Big. Heavy. Pulsing. I let it out, stroking him once, twice, watching their eyes flicker with disbelief and desire.
Then I sank to my knees between them.
One in each hand.
My mouth switching from one to the other, tasting them, teasing, licking their tips with slow, hungry circles. I made them both throb. Made them whimper. Made them mine.
“Relax,” I whispered. “Ako bahala sa inyo.”
Their breaths grew louder, their bodies twitching every time my tongue slid over their sensitive skin. I watched their faces — eyes half-lidded, lips parted, bodies betraying all control.
Then I stood up and turned around, leaning on the wall once more, exposing the wet heat between my thighs.
“Unahan n’yo,” I said.
The first boy came forward, slipping inside me with a gasp — familiar, fast, desperate. I groaned, biting my lip, holding onto the wall as he filled me again.
But this time… I reached behind and stroked his friend’s cock as his friend watched me get taken.
“Next ka,” I whispered, glancing back. “But don’t just watch. Get ready.”
When the first finished, I didn’t even rest — I pulled the second forward, spread my legs wider, and let him take over.
This one was different.
Rougher.
Hungrier.
He gripped my hips like he wanted to own me, thrusting deep, deep enough to make me cry out. I arched, pushed back against him, moaning as his young stamina slammed into every spot inside me.
And just when I was close — so close — I turned around, dropped to my knees again, and took them both in my hands.
My mouth. My tongue. My lips.
Both boys.
Both dripping.
Both desperate.
I looked up at them, sweat on my brow, eyes wild with lust, and whispered:
“Next time… sabay.”
- Cindel’s Overflow – Kuya Mangingisda - April 14, 2025
- Cindel’s Overflow – Kuya Binata - April 14, 2025
- Cindel’s Overflow – Kuya Laundry - April 14, 2025