The Diamond Club (14 page)

“Why don’t I clean off your paintbrush?”

I grabbed him with both hands, then slowly wrapped my lips around his dick. Circling the head with my tongue, I could hear moans and groans of pleasure begging me to keep going, music to my ears. I started to move my head back and forth. Slowly at first, but gaining in speed.

“Yes. Yes. Oh fuck yes.”

I could feel him getting close to orgasm, I pushed him as far back as I could, letting my lips touch the base of his manhood, then pulled him completely out; Almost sending him over the edge.

“Wha, What happened?”

“If you want more, you’ll have to return the favor.”

I walked over to the bed, pulling him behind me. I turned around, laid back on the bed, and spread my legs open.

“Let’s see if you’re as good with a pussy as you are with a pencil.”
He knelt down off the edge of the bed, put his arms underneath my legs, and pulled me closer.

As punishment for not letting him finish, he decided to tease me, beginning at my navel, slowly kissing his way down. Just as he gets there, he and his mouth decide to take a detour and starts nibbling, kissing, and sucking on my inner thigh.

Oh god, you’re killing me.

After he decided I’d had enough, he starts licking my entire pussy, up and down. Then, he decides to focus on my clit, licking away with the fervor of a telegraph operator. He switches between licking and sucking multiple times. He’s sending waves of pleasure through me and I just couldn’t take it any more. I guided his head up toward mine, forcing him into some passionate kissing, as though our tongues were wolves fighting over a kill. Yum, I can taste my pussy in his mouth.

I spin him around onto his back and climb on top of him, guiding myself onto his throbbing shaft. Slowly… Slowly… Yes, this is what I’ve needed.

I start grinding, slowly at first, but gaining in pace. I started with My body pressed against his, but soon i couldn’t help myself from riding him hard like a mechanical bull.

At the frenetic pace we were going at, I was just about to orgasm, but Hugo had an idea.

“How kinky are you willing to get?”

I gave him a sinful smile.

“Hold on, I’ve got a surprise.”

He got up from the bed and walked over to his paint supplies. I could tell he had something pretty fun in mind based off of his mischievous smile. With the flash of recognition, I could see he found what he was looking for: A long and thick paintbrush.

Hugo got back on the bed, then gestured for me to get on my hands and knees. He took the paintbrush and slowly entered my ass with it, but it wasn’t enough. I told him I wanted him to fuck me in both holes.

There he was, thrusting into me with two poles: one of flesh, one of wood. As his cock would retract from my pussy, he would push the paintbrush further into my ass, and vice-versa. It was almost too much to bear. I was building to an incredible climax. Oh, The idea of us intertwined got me so horny, and before I knew it, I found myself in an earthquake of orgasm, followed by aftershocks of total satisfaction. Hugo was holding back, but he couldn’t for very much longer.

“I’m gonna cum!”

I turned around and I gestured to my breasts.

“I want it all right here.”

He erupted in a burst of creamy goodness all over me.

He fell beside me in what looked and sounded like a nirvanic state.

“What did you think?”, he asks.

“Well,”I said as I ran a finger through the pool of cum on my chest, “I think it’s a masterpiece.”

Bratwurst for Wear

Walking down Mission Street is a bitch in heels, especially in a rain-soaked San Francisco morning. It had been raining for the last three days and I was tired of wearing galoshes. The raindrops tapped on my umbrella the red umbrella the same shade as my lipstick. I flipped the collar of my trenchcoat up to shield my face from the gusting wind and rain. My heels clicked in a pulsating rhythm, like an old friend I haven’t heard from in a while.

I decided to take Dia’s invitation to teach me more about mixing the business world with the social world. I looked at my watch, it read 11:50 AM. I was exactly on time. I’d never been to The Diamond Club this early before. It look different in the daylight. It’s Marquis that usually shined bright white, was now a mature color of yellow in the daylight. Cracks in the concrete like wrinkles on it’s aging façade was a reminder of passing of time. The brass trim on the doors now looked unpolished under the unfiltered natural light. The door handle, usually warm under the lights, felt cold as I pushed it open. My eyes had to adjust to the sharp contrast of the dimly lit club. Ignoring me, the bartender was cleaning glasses at the mini-sink and the busboy vacuumed the carpet.

The as usual elegant Dia, entered the lounge in a blue sequined dress but instead of her usual long hair she had it done up in a bun. She quickly walked with her arms up towards me and greeted me.

“I apologize,” she said with a slight hint of anxiety in her voice. “It’s been that kind of morning. I would offer you something but our cook is missing.”

The usually graceful and poised Dia, was struggling.

“Let this be lesson number one, it isn’t always glamour, flashbulbs, and champagne. Please have a seat. I’ll be right with you,” she said and returned to the back office.

I took a seat at the bar and the bartender, now stocking beer bottles, said, “I hate it when the cook is a no-show, the worst part is the we don’t get any lunch. When this happens, all of us get together and order from the deli down the street. I’ll cut you in if you want.”

I give him my order and he calls it in.
Dia pokes her head out for the back and said, “I’m so short handed today, it’ll be a few more minutes. Can you be a dear and pick up lunch for the guys? Look for the rooster on the door.”

Sure enough there was a rooster on the door of the Mission Delicatessen. As I walked, my heels clicked and reverberated off the linoleum floor. An array of sausages and cured meats hung from racks off the ceiling. A refrigerated display case extended from the front of the store to the back, blocking my view of what was behind the counter. I heard someone operating a meat slicer, rocking back and forth, just outside of my view.

“Excuse me,” I asked for service “I’m here to pick up…”

I didn’t finish my sentence. As I peaked around the display case. I was presented with a fine specimen of a man. His buttocks tight in his cut-off jeans, arms as thick as some of the bologna hanging from the ceiling. He turned to looked at me over his broad shoulder, flashing his name tag, which read, “Claus Dominik”.

“Ya? You’re from The Diamond Club, ya?” He said with a German accent.

“Um… yeah,” I said.

With a few more strokes of the meat cutter, he finished off the last sandwich. I tilted my head forward and shot him a yearning stare. He smiled back at me and nudged his square chin in my direction. With skillful hands he wrapped up the last sandwich, grabbed the ones that he had already prepared and placed them in a shopping bag. When he handed me the bag and our hands touched with electric passion. His warm leathery hands felt rough. Our eyes connected.

Still holding my hand, and staring in my eyes he said, “I almost forgot. Dia always gets the special bratwurst when she orders.”

He gently rubbed his thick thumb over the back of my hand, up and down. This sent a jolt of sensation, like electric shocks down to my nethers.

“I need to get it from the back.”

He left the bag and took my hand. I followed him into the walk-in refrigerator. One incandescent light shined dimly on the shelves of meat, poultry, and produce. He closed the door behind him and undid his apron. I took my trench coat off and tossed it to the side. He tossed his apron to reveal the bulge of his cargo shorts.

“Ready for the special sausage?” He asked.

I responded by kneeling down and unzipped his cargo shorts. He flipped his erect stout member out. A shiny helmet of a head peeked out from under the scabbard of his foreskin. I grabbed the base of his cock and unwrapped the head. I licked the veiny shaft, starting from its base to its grayish-purple mushroomed tip. My lipstick left a crown of red after I kissed his swollen head. I took his love-pole down my throat, in and out. His tightly packed savory sausage throbbed with each pass. With his thumbs he tugged at the shoulder straps of my dress. I lifted my arms and the top of my dress fell to my waist, exposing my full breasts. He took a step back to take a gaze. With his brawny hands he cupped my right breast, then my left. As he did this, I took in a deep breath. As I exhaled my breath stuttered and my lower lip quivered in anticipation.

He guided me with powerful arms down onto some supply boxes. Laying on my back I slid my damp underwear down. They hung on my left ankle for a brief moment and then dropped to the floor. He pulled the bottom of my dress up to join the top around my waist and kneeled down to access my pussy. He pressed his thumb on my clitoris and I let out a low moan. His thumb moved up and down, and then in circles. His fingers danced in my womanhood and I dripped on them, making them slick to glide rhythmically. He turned his hand face-up and made a “come-hither” motion with his index and middle fingers and rubbed my g-spot and clitoris simultaneously. Now yelling in excitement, I was ready to receive his manhood.

He tossed me over onto my hands and knees. I looked over my shoulder, and with my eyes, I beckoned his love to enter me. He grabbed my hips and inserted rock-hard penis into my wet vagina. As he entered me, I screamed. I was breathing harder now. He filled my honey-hole up with his bratwurst and like a piston he thrust his hips forward and back. With every thrust my heart beat faster. The pleasure stirred in my belly and radiated out to my toes and fingertips.

When I had my fill, I leaned forward. I rolled over and quickly stood. I grabbed his shoulder and nudged him down, onto the boxes. Laying that way, his hard penis cast a shadow over his six-pack abs. I squatted over and lowered myself onto him. With him in my love mitt, I bounced up and down. Waves of pleasure hit me and intensified with each trip down. At this point, I felt my stamina waning. I leaned forward to grab his chiseled chest with my hands. Sensing my fatigue, he wrapped his hands around my waist. With strong commanding hands he guided my hips where they needed to be.

The pressure built in my loins until I felt it give. When I came, my back arched and my pussy convulsive on his dick in waves of pleasure. I let out a guttural yell as I showered his member with my juice. I stopped and let the pleasure wash over me. Loosing control, I fell back onto my knees, releasing myself from his touch, and sat there resting on my legs. While I was half dazed from my powerful orgasm, he sat up. My eyes fixed on his still-erect penis. With me watching, he wrapped his hand around the shaft of his cock. With each stroke, he manipulated his foreskin to wrapped and unwrapped his swollen head. Mesmerized by the rhythm, I looked at it and I couldn’t resist. I crawled back to him on my hands and knees, grabbed his hand and tossed it away. I greedily took him into my mouth and sucked him off until he gave me his savory gift. I swallowed his load and the warmth dripped down my throat, radiated from the center of my belly and out to my fingers and toes. I was satisfied.

When I got back to The Diamond Club I handed out all the lunches I had, except for one. There was a platter left labeled “Dia”. I walked down the back ways of the club towards Dia’s office. As I approached the door to her office, a man with a tall white hat and a ruffled apron, who I presumed was the cook, darted out and passed me. I looked back towards Dia’s office and there she was, hair out of place, lipstick smudged, and dress crumpled from the waist down.

“I trust Claus treated you well,” she said.

And it suddenly dawned on me.

“Lesson number two: never pass up a good opportunity.”

Bang!

“Let’s kick it up a bit!”

I looked up at the television behind the bar of the Diamond Club to see a familiar face. Alfeo Mediati was cooking up another brilliant creation on his cooking show, “A2A”. I’ve always enjoyed watching him. I don’t know if its the food or his hot, italian physique, but after I watch I always feel a bit…hungry.

“Bang!”, he shouted after adding his finishing touches. Bang is right, I thought. I was still feeling pretty horny after my recent Russian encounter, and as I watched each bead of sweat form on his brow, I felt my panties dampen. Feeling secure that I would be unseen under the bar, I let my hand wander up my thigh toward the source of that familiar growing heat, and just as my fingertips reached their goal I heard a whisper in my ear.

“You like that?”

I turned in shock to see the face of Alfeo Mediati staring back at me with a huge grin on his face. I began to speak but he put a finger to my lips.

“Shhh,” he said, “why don’t you come with me back to my restaurant and I’ll show you some of my techniques first hand? It’s always nice to meet a fan”.

Saying nothing, I followed him. His private driver drove us to “Alfeo’s”, his restaurant on the pier. I’ve always wanted to eat there but Roman would never take me. Now, it appeared that Alfeo would be taking me, in more ways than one. The restaurant was dark; it was closed for the night. We made our way back to the kitchen, and rather than turn on the light, Alfeo lit the burners on the stove, lighting the room with flickering flames that reflected on the stainless steel of the counter tops.

He turned to me and lifted me up onto the counter. Instinctively, I wrapped my legs around him, eager to pull him toward me. “Bang,” he said, smiling. Never had his catchphrase been so damn sexy. Suddenly, his mouth was on mine, kissing me deep. As he moved to my neck, I couldn’t help but moan, the sounds of my pleasure echoing in the empty kitchen. One by one, he unbuttoned the front of my shirt and pulled down my bra, exposing my swollen nipples. He took each of them in his mouth, pausing to bite a little each time and I jumped with delicious excitement.

As he hungrily sucked my tits, his hands slid up my tight skirt. He pulled my panties to the side, and I felt the cool air hit my wet pussy. Abandoning my chest, he turned his sucking to another target. He began to lick and suck my clit as his skilled chef’s fingers probed my wet hole. I gripped the edge of the counter as he brought me closer and closer to orgasm. He rubbed my G-Spot with his finger as his he relentlessly tongued my clit. The pleasure continued to build and build until it exploded. He continued to lick me as I shuddered. As I began to come down from the peak, he stopped and stood to kiss me again. I could taste myself on his lips as he began to undo the front of his pants. I reached down and grabbed his swollen cock.