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[This is a work of fiction. It is a sequel to Kathe’s Customer. The story is an unadulterated and unabashed attempt to tickle male fantasies and perhaps some female fantasies as well. As such, the story may or may not totally conform to reality. All locations, events, and characters are entirely fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.]
Jesus, six-forty-five and the cab just pulled up. Christ, I’m going to be late. But I guess that is just fashionable today, but I still don’t like it. I was waiting in the lobby of my apartment building for the cab to get me to the Rogue Restaurant for my date with Joe and Jasmine.
If you remember, earlier today in the upscale lingerie store where I work, I had a more than passionate lick and suck with a special customer, Pam, in changing room three. If that weren’t enough, just before closing, I had an even more passionate encounter with Joe, a fucking mind boggling session. If you know what I mean. [Kathe’s Customer]
It was the first time I’d ever laid eyes on Joe, but he sure laid more than eyes on me! I must’ve made the right impression on him, ’cause as I rang up his purchases, he invited me on his Christmas Eve dinner date with his main squeeze, Jasmine, at the classy Rogue Restaurant at seven. “Jasmine is bi,” he had said and more, “We often have a threesome, sometimes another woman and sometimes another man. She will be delighted.”
“Sounds good. I’ve never been to the Rogue.”
“You’re in for a treat, then, Kathe.”
I dashed out the lobby door and piled into the cab. “Rogue Restaurant and as quickly as you can, man.”
“Yes, Ma’am, we aim to please.”
And off we roared with a howling engine and screeching tires. Traffic was a lot heavier than I’d of thought for Christmas Eve, so the hurry didn’t last long. As we were reduced to a tortoise like crawl, I let my mind wander back over the last several hours I spent getting ready.
As I stepped through the door of my apartment after arriving home from my shortened holiday schedule at the lingerie store, I tossed the sack of two cum soaked wicked-weasel panty thongs from my morning exertions in the direction of the bathroom hamper.
Once in my bedroom, I quickly stripped out of my work outfit and stood naked in front of my bedroom full length mirror. I slowly pirouetted a full circle as I observed my naked assets. Not bad girl, for an old lady of twenty-eight. Your thirty-eight Cs are still perky, they still will not hold a pencil under their bottoms. Good! Those big aureole are just what a lot of guys want.
Your cheekbones are a little too high though and your nose a bit long. Awfully good looking eyes however. Green. Go with the flaming red hair quite well, don’t they.
Butt’s not bad either, Kath, no fat yet. Nice, round, and tight. Flat tummy too. And at twenty-eight inches, not a bad waist either.
Shaved snatch with just a touch of hair right above the mons.
My fingers drifted onto the area.
Nice. And those pussy lips!
My fingers slowly moved over my labia in languid strokes.
Fat and saucy with a big clit hidden just within at the top of the slit. Yum!
Two fingers slid into my pussy channel, creating electric sparks in spades.
“Uhh, uhhh, God.”
Long slender and well toned legs with thirty-six inch thighs and perfectly shaped feet and toes at the bottom. Yes, old girl, I think you’ll still do!
Panting and sucking on my wet fingers, I walked to the bathroom and turned on the shower. When the temp was just where I like it, I stepped in and luxuriated in the caress of the cascading water. With a truck load of dried come left from my session with Pam and Joe smeared all over me, I badly needed this soak. I stayed in so long, it’s a wonder I didn’t drain the hot water tank.
Before I shut off the water, I managed to use my fingers to bring myself to the brink of orgasm. Grabbing the big dildo from its resting place on a shower shelf, I rubbed its huge helmet back and forth on my slit, front to back and back to front. Sinking ever deeper with each stroke, I barely got it shoved all the way in before I climaxed in a spasm of liquid sex.
Rinsing off for a last time, I finally stepped out and luxuriated in the caresses of my velvety soft, oversize bath towel. I especially relished the touch on my boobs and pussy.
My long, flowing red hair took a while with the dryer. Now, my face. I sat before my vanity mirror and stared into it.
My right hand moved, seemingly all on its own, to my boobs and began to rub. The fingers tweaked on first one nipple and then the other. Damn, I just couldn’t keep my hands off myself.
Shit! I’m getting myself hot again, but fuck, I’m so damned horny.
My left hand dropped to my crotch. The middle finger, after buzzing over my clit, found my crevice, sending electric zings to my brain. The other fingers slid onto the velvet surface of my pussy lips. The whole hand moved slowly bahçelievler escort down, down, down, my legs parting in advance of the descending hand.
“Oh my God. Oh my God.”
The hand began its trip back up. Before I knew it, that hand was a near blur as it moved up and down, until–“Oh my God,” and I began shivering in yet another climax of liquid pussy.
“Shit, now I have to take time to wash up again,” I muttered to myself.
I went back to the bathroom and did just that. I slapped one hand and then the other. You naughty girl you, now get back in there and put your face on. It’s getting later’n hell.
My face finally on but still naked, I turned to the drawer chest to decide what to wear. I looked at several thongs but ended up shoving the drawer closed without one.
No panties, they’ll just get in the way anyhow if things go where I think they will. No bra either, for the same reason. Unbound and unfettered. Way to go girl! So, What then? Got to wear something, he he he.
I looked into the closet, ruminating over my choices. Jeans, tee, and sweater? Not in that high class restaurant. Skirt and blouse? Maybe. Hmmm, slinky, tube type dress? Nah. Something slutty? Mmmm, maybe.
Then I found what I was looking for. I carried the outfit over to the full length mirror and began to get into it. The bottom portion was a pair of culottrs–with a difference. There was no crotch!
The legs and body of the thing were loose and ruffled in an overlapping fashion. If I was careful and kept my legs together, it looked okay. But, standing, walking, or sitting, if I moved my legs too much, the open crotch showed, quite clearly. I got that much of it on,one leg at a time, with the attached top dangling in front of me.
The top consisted of two strips of narrow material, very narrow, attached at the bottom on either side of my tummy. These left a bare midriff and more on the way up to my neck. The strip of cloth continued up, narrowing even more as it went. The cloth barely covered the nipple and a tiny bit of the front center of my tit.
The other side was the same. The two strips went up and, by the time they went around my neck like a sling, it was just string. They were all one piece. The two strips were also attached by a tiny, almost invisible string from nipple to nipple. This string could be detached, if desired. Before the night ended, I would likely desire. The outfit had no back at all.
So, the top half of my body, except for the narrow strips, was essentially naked. That should be an eye opener. More than ninety-five per cent of each tit was on display if I just stood still. If I moved much at all, the whole damned tit was exposed.
Color? Sinful, bright red, of course. Red Velvet.
My shoes, six inch spikes, were red, paten leather.
Jewelry? Real pearls. A pair of tear drop earrings, single strand necklace, and a single strand bracelet.
I think my outfit will get attention.
It was late December, but still quite mild, no snow yet at all. I would, however, need a wrap. The evening was cool, and if nothing else, I needed it to cover up until I chose otherwise. I gave myself one last check, put on my knee length, silver fox fur coat, an expensive real one, and headed for the lobby. I ignore political correctness, in dress or anything else. But you probably already figured that.
I had changed my mind and decided to go by cab rather than drive my own car as I had indicated to Joe earlier this morning. If things went right, I would not be driving home and I did not want my vintage 1941 caddy rag top sitting on the street. I just hoped he drove something larger that a two-seater!
All this flashed through my mind fairly quickly. A very loud truck air horn blast snapped me back to the present. I was momentarily shocked to find the driver staring at me in his rear view mirror. My coat was fully open, my legs splayed open. Both tits were totally exposed. My left hand was in my bare pussy, friggin’ myself with determination. My other hand was giving my totally bare tits a workout equal to that going on down below.
Jesus, what a show I’m giving this guy. Oh Well, what the hell.
I gave the driver wicked leer and said, “In this traffic, you’d better keep your eyes on the road, fella.”
“Uh huh,” was his embarrassed and mumbled reply.
I knew he wouldn’t, at least not more than he absolutely had to, but that didn’t stop what I was doing. Just as the cab pulled up to the front of the restaurant, I climaxed, BIG. Obvious shudders, loud groans, and squirted pussy juice onto the partition in front of me.
The doorman of the ritzy eatery opened the cab door and, got an eyeful and a half. I was dabbing up my cunt with tissue, my top still wide open and exposed. He and the cabbie both watched until I finished and covered up again. Of course, the doorman got a second long eyeful of my nether regions as I levered myself out of the cab.
I paid the cabbie his fare and balgat escort added, “You already got your tip on the way over here,” and walked through the door.
As I said earlier, I had never been in the place before. Hell, I had barely even heard of it. So I wondered about the name. I was about to find out about that.
I gave the Matre d my name and said, “I’ll keep my coat.”
He escorted me to table near a large round stage that occupied the center of the huge room, guest tables arranged in concentric circles around it. Wonder what that’s all about. Joe and Jasmine were already there, of course. I was nearly half an hour late. “Traffic,” I said to them as the Matre d seated me and then, “Thank you,” as he pushed me into place. I kept the coat on to start with.
“Aren’t you hot in that coat?” asked Joe as I looked up.
“No, not really, but I’ll get rid of it shortly. when I get used to the temperature in here.”
“Well, Kathe, meet Jasmine and Jasmine, meet Kathe.”
After the appropriate, “Glad to meet you’s,” we got better acquainted with each other with small talk. We chatted on as the first item on our menu for the night was served, a shrimp cocktail.
I didn’t pay attention as I was served first. But as the waitress moved from behind me to serve the other two, I did a double take. She was naked, bare-ass naked! And, she was drop dead gorgeous. I nearly knocked my cocktail over. Looking around, I saw that other waitresses were serving other tables. They were similarly dressed. Or should I say, undressed. And all of them were equally as gorgeous as our waitress.
How did I miss all this until just now?
Apparently the waitresses had just appeared on the floor.
“That’s the first of the surprises of the evening,” Joe said.
“You mean there are more surprises to come?”
“Oh, indeed there are. If you only knew.”
“Well, I’m more than intrigued now. Have you been here before, Jasmine?”
“Oh, yes, Joe and I come here several times a year.”
“Hmmmmm.” was my only reply.
“The second surprise,” Joe continued, “is, all the patrons always get the same menu. It’s a different menu each night for a week but it’s all part of the whole evening package. By the way, this is not Dutch tonight. I have already paid your ticket, so just enjoy.”
This last was said with an “I know something more, a lot more, that you don’t” kind of smile. Just short of a smirk. Smart ass.
The waitress was back. Chilled asparagus was the course his time. Delicious. During our conversation, I glanced around the room occasionally and I noticed everyone of the tables were occupied. Some were couples only, others seated a group of couples. One sitting I could see was a party of six couples.
“Full house tonight, I see.”
“Yes,” Jasmine replied, “It usually is. One absolutely has to have reservations here. There are no walk ins.
I decided it was time to shed my coat. Joe rose and helped me out of it and placed it around the back of my chair. Jasmine arched her eyebrows and then smiled in approval. I heard Joe gulp some behind me and observed the unmistakable arousal of his cock as he returned to his seat on my left.
“That’s quite an outfit,” he exclaimed.
“I guess it’s more appropriate for this place than I’d imagined, Joe.”
I probably should have described their costume sooner. Joe was dressed in a conservative business suit, shirt, and tie. Jasmine was in a not quite see-through ensemble of skin tight blouse and pants. Now you see, now you don’t kind of thing. But she proffered a highly visible, extreme cameltoe. It was quite obvious she was sans panties as well as bra.
Her crotch was visibly getting damp. The diaphanous material disappeared as it got wet, leaving the impression of a naked set of pussy lips, glistening in their wetness under the lighting of the moment. I had, as I already declared, certainly but unknowingly dressed more than appropriately for the evening than I knew.
Our emptied dishes were deftly removed by our naked waitress and a lemon sorbet set before us. Almost in the blink of an eye, or so it seemed, a citrus and walnut salad with parmesan peppercorn and haricot verts appeared.
“What do you do, Jasmine, do you have a job, go to school, or what?”
“Oh, it’s ‘or what.’ I’m an exotic dancer at the Exotic-Erotic Club, the biggest, most expensive one in town.”
She was well into her telling of this when the main course arrived. Duchess potato was accompanied by Filet of sole with pink peppercorn sauce as well as classic breast of lobster ragout. Whipped butter, rolls, and croissants were also served.
Conversation at our table never lagged as we worked our way through this king’s table of food. At length, dessert arrived. There was a strawberry parfait, a dish of strawberry ice cream floating in a mixture of cream and fresh strawberries, and a large piece of strawberry pie.
I really don’t know where I am going to put this, went through batıkent escort my mind just as a drum roll and trumpet fanfare blared over the sound system. The house lights went down and the stage lights went to very bright, illuminating a brilliant circle in a sea of near darkness. An announcement followed.
“Ladies and gentlemen. If you will turn your attention to the stage in the center of the room, the evening entertainment will commence.”
More drums and trumpets. As I looked at the stage, a large circular piece in the center had dropped. I gazed on with rapt attention. Two heads suddenly rose from the hole, one female and one male. As the center elevator section continued to rise, the glistening, naked bodies of the couple were slowly and tantalizingly revealed.
My God they’re beautiful. He’s an adonis to end all and the men probably think she’s the Goddess to end all. We slid our chairs around together, facing the stage, Joe in the middle, me on his right, and Jasmine on his left.
The music changed to soft romantic love songs, beautiful instrumental versions, as the elevator stopped and locked into position. The naked couple clinched together to dance a sensuous, slow dance of barely restrained passion. Their hands never stopped moving in loving caresses.
My nipples exploded erect. My pussy let me know it was definitely interested. Apparently the same was true of Jasmine. Her erect nipples were quite obvious. When she said, “God, am I getting wet, actually, wetter than wet” the interest of her pussy was also made known.
The music suddenly changed to classical Spanish with heavy emphasis on guitar. The naked young couple began an intense and erotically charged mating dance, unhindered by boots or any other restrictive clothing.
My God, that is the sexiest thing I have seen in a long time.
Suddenly, I felt a hand on my left thigh. I sighed and parted my legs some. The hand slowly caressed down to the inner side and then slowly moved upward. My eyes never left the action on the stage. My right hand went to my boobs and got busy. My legs opened wider.
A later quick glance told me Joe’s other hand was busy on Jasmines thigh. She had her top completely down and was giving her naked boobs as good a work out as I was mine. By the time his hand got to my pussy, Joe found it already wet and sloppy. I don’t imagine he found hers dry.
Before turning back to the stage, I looked around. Other couples, most of them in fact, were getting ito the action as well. Tits were getting laving affection. Pussies were diddled with finger and/or tongue. Soft groans and more could be heard throughout the room. The air sang with the aroma of sexual arousal.
I finally looked back to the stage as the music changed back to the romantic instrumentals and found the circular elevator had risen a foot or so and the couple laid out on its padded surface. She was on her back, knees flexed and spread. He was between them, face in her pussy, licking and sucking with abandon. She moaned her pleasure. Their sounds, voice, slurps, or whatever, were amplified by hidden microphones. Very, very erotic.
I moaned my own sounds as Joe’s fingers found my G-Spot and played their erotic tune. In short order, I thrust my pussy into that finger with gusto. Jasmine was matching my moves. Her free hand and mine found their objective simultaneously, Joe’s near-to-exploding cock. She pulled the zipper down and I dug out the prize. That missile oozed a heavy stream of precum and more as we both grabbed on.
Moving in tandem, we began to jack that handle. Between his actions and ours, Joe’s eyes abandoned the stage as they glazed over with sexual heat and passion. We slicked his shaft up pretty good with his leaking fluid.
I glanced back to the stage just in time to see the young stud, the girl’s legs on his shoulders, plunge his helmet tipped spear home, to the hilt. She loudly vocalized her pleasure. So did Joe as he unloaded his first load of the night, into the underside of the table. It dripped back down onto his cock and our hands.
A loud growling and grunting from the stage told us that the stud there had just shot his load. Jasmine and I were both soaking our chairs with our pleasure. She and I now also abandoned the sights on the stage to concentrate on our own sex scene.
“Come on, Jasmine, let’s suck Joe and our hands clean.”
He was still semi-hard when we all shoved our chairs back and the two of us started in on him. In short order, he was back to full strength once more. He sucked her hand clean and she got mine clean.
Out of the blue, the waitress appeared with a bucket of vintage Champagne in one hand, her other hand busy with her own naked pussy. Her eyes were glassy, her breathing rapid and strained. She could barely walk.
“We can help, if you like,” offered Joe.
“Oh God, please,” was his answer.
Joe laid her back on the table top with her legs hanging free and immediately went down on her. Jasmine and I each got a tit and went to work. She moaned and wailed in pleasure and thrashed her head from side-to-side. Wasting little time, since he had found her already sopping wet, Joe stepped between her legs and impaled her pussy. As he quickly sank into the embrace of that heavenly quim, he groaned out his pleasure.
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