Dirty Dining (13 page)

“Oh, this should be interesting,” Kit said.

“Hey, guys, what do you do when a guy you’ve, uh, served before is there and you’re with someone else?”

“Sure, I can see how it might be awkward, since Sky Blue jacked you off last time.” Kit giggled and came up behind Jeremy and gave him another hug, while reaching around for his dick.

Jeremy swerved out of Kit’s grasp. “It’s not funny.” He felt his cheeks heating up, which was even more embarrassing.

“It happens all the time because there are more gentlemen than boys,” Rand replied. “And it’s a good question, Remy. Just smile and say ‘Hello, Mr. Blue’ or whatever. If you’re not with a regular or a request, you can give them a hug or kiss or touch their shoulder when you do the first circuit. Especially if you want to serve them again.”

“Thomas is good about seating so you don’t end up next to a guy who couldn’t keep his hands off your junk a few days earlier.” Law chuckled.

“Okay, thanks. I feel really weird about seeing Sky Blue after the other day.”

“What’s the theme tonight?” Rico asked when Thomas arrived.

“Public servants. Cops, firemen, paramedics.” He had an armful of costumes on hangers and put them on hooks marked with each boy’s name. On Jeremy’s hook he put a cop outfit, and he had a female nurse’s uniform for Taylor.
It would look perfect on him
, Jeremy thought. “You guys can switch around if you don’t like what I’ve chosen for you. Tonight’s colors are ties, or scarves, depending on what works best with your costume.”

The boys pulled the costumes down and held them up for the others to critique. Jeremy remained a cop, and a few others swapped costumes.

Taylor was next to Jeremy. He watched as Taylor stripped down to nothing. The guy had no hair at all on his body. Either he waxed or he just didn’t have any, not even on his balls. It reinforced the childlike appearance, and Jeremy thought it was a little too childlike not to be creepy. Kit came over to put some makeup on Taylor before he put on the nurse’s skirt and white thigh-high stockings.

“You want me to paint anything, Jules?” Kit singsonged to Jeremy.

“I don’t know. What do you think?” Jeremy watched Kit paint Taylor’s nipples pink with the baker’s colors. He pinked up Taylor’s pale cock too, a dusting around the head to make it look appetizing to his client. He finished up with some pink on Taylor’s round ass-cheeks before Taylor bent over and Kit pushed a butt plug into him with a wet pop.

“Your turn.” Kit came over and made Jeremy strip down. “Hmm. Let’s start with a little trim.” Kit grabbed a pair of barber scissors from Jeremy’s vanity and knelt between his legs.

“Not too much. I don’t want to look all bald or anything.” Jeremy tried not to glance in Taylor’s direction and realized he was trusting Kit an awful lot down there. “And be careful.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve done this a million times.” He chuckled and snip-snip-snipped a few times, making every excuse to play with Jeremy’s cock at the same time.

Jeremy had to admit he looked pretty good with his pubes trimmed close to the skin. Enough to give a good view of everything, but retaining enough coverage so he didn’t feel like a prepubescent boy.

“Hon, with that dick and those long balls, no one’s gonna think you’re a kid.” Kit apparently read Jeremy’s mind. He stroked Jeremy’s ball sac so it swung back and forth. Jeremy hated that it felt so good. “Bend over now.”

“Why?”

“See if you need a trim or anything.”

Jeremy hadn’t really thought much about how his ass looked, but now he was self-conscious. He bent over.

“You’re good. Nice and smooth. Want some lube or a plug, or you want me to open you up with a dildo?”

Would Mr. Green like that? Jeremy didn’t think so. “Not this time.” He’d let Green do it, if they got that far. In the mirror he watched Rico pushing a dildo into Rand. No one had gotten dressed yet. They were all still naked as they prepped their bodies and hair. It was as if the costumes were just an afterthought. They were, to some extent, since the purpose of the evening was to get them off the boys.

“I’m with Mr. Pearl Gray. He always goes for the shorts first,” Kit said, handing Jeremy a dildo. “Open me up, then push in that big plug. I need to be hard right out of the gate.”

But still, there should be some playfulness and excitement surrounding the undressing. Otherwise they’d just take everything off during the first course. It should be fun for the men to peel off the layers, at least Jeremy wanted it to work like that. He noticed most men didn’t take the shorts off till the boys were hard, not the other way around. The men worked to get their boy excited, then showed him off to the room.

“Take a pill, Kit,” Rand said from across the room. “Pearl Gray’ll probably keep him hard the whole meal and not let him come, which is no fun.”

Kit shook his head. “No. One of you want to put me out of my misery?”

“What do you mean?” Jeremy asked.

“He’ll ask his client if he can play with one of us, and we get him off. Then he can take a pill upstairs if necessary.”

“I don’t need no stinkin’ pill!” Kit said. “I’m Iron-cock!”

The phrase sent everyone into peals of laughter.

“Hey, Iron-cock!” Thomas stood in the doorway. “Fifteen minutes. You better get dressed.”

Jeremy pulled on tight, dark blue shorts. They were just like the white ones he’d worn last time. Button flies so they could be unbuttoned slowly, and not as dangerous as zippers against bare cocks. He figured out how to arrange his balls, then put on the shirt. It was a button-up in a cotton/Lycra blend so it hugged his body like it was painted on. Good thing he went to the gym. He wrapped the belt around his waist, noticing a pair of handcuffs, and in place of a nightstick, a large black dildo swung from a hook. Vials of lube were placed in the bullet holders. He tied a green tie around his neck and put on a shiny silver sheriff’s badge and a hat. Last, he slipped his feet into a pair of black boots that were loose enough to be comfortable without socks.

The gong sounded.

B
RICE
MADE
awkward small talk with the other men at the table and sipped a glass of bourbon. He recognized the Sky Blue man from the previous visit and recalled how he’d felt watching him with Remy. He certainly didn’t want to see that again. At least tonight Remy would be on his lap.

At the mere thought, Brice became aroused. Startled by his strong response, he gulped more bourbon to steady himself. Not too much, though, or he risked dulling his senses. He was here to indulge them—all of them. Sight, taste, sound, smell, and especially touch. He intended to experience Remy with all of them.

By the time the gong sounded, Brice’s nerves were raw. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d been so anxious about seeing someone. Not even on those first dates with Greg. What was wrong with him?

Then the door opened and the boys streamed in. A hunky Latino fireman led the group, followed by cops, a paramedic, a nurse, and Remy, wearing some semblance of a police uniform with a green tie. Brice smiled. Remy was here, wearing his color tonight. He flashed Brice that familiar nervous smile as the boys made their first circuit of the room.

“Hello, Mr. Green,” Remy said in a whispery voice against Brice’s ear. Then he swept a hand across Brice’s back and continued around the room. The warmth of the touch, the pressure of Remy’s fingers against his back, and Brice’s pulse raced and his throat tightened. He noted that Remy kept his gaze locked on Brice as he moved around the room toward the door again, then shifted briefly to Sky Blue. Remy gave his past client a friendly smile and a wave. Law put a hand out and squeezed Brice’s shoulder as he went past, which made seeing Remy’s greeting more tolerable.

Less than five minutes later, Remy returned with the first course of shrimp cocktail. Large pink prawns were arranged around a bowl of cocktail sauce. Tonight’s meal was old-fashioned steak-house fare, featuring food from Harris’, the top steak house in the city.

Remy put the plate down and settled on the bench next to Brice. “How are you tonight, Mr. Green?”

Their thighs touched, and Brice looked down at Remy’s leg, the thick cyclist’s thigh against his, and found himself tongue-tied. “Good.”

“I hope you’re hungry.” Brice couldn’t take his eyes off Remy’s lips as he spoke. He nodded, and Remy smiled. “Do you like it hot?”

“What?” Brice’s brain had turned off, but his body was overheating. “Hot?”

“The cocktail sauce? Mild, spicy, or extra hot?”

Brice gulped as he watched Remy’s lips form the word “cock.” “Medium hot, I guess. We can always add more.”

“Right.” Remy grinned and splashed some hot sauce into the cocktail sauce. He dipped a finger in and brought it up to Brice’s mouth. “Hot enough?”

Brice sucked sauce off Remy’s finger and fought the urge to keep sucking. His cock was already swelling. How could Remy get him this damn excited so quickly? “Mmm. Good, but maybe a little hotter.” Brice hoped it came out sounding playful and not as needy as he felt at the moment.

“Hotter.” Remy practically purred the word, then nodded and splashed more hot sauce in and repeated the finger tasting. This time he tickled the roof of Brice’s mouth, and Brice laughed.

“Perfect.” He grabbed Remy’s hand and sucked the finger a few seconds longer before releasing it.

Remy gave him that charming little smile and plunged a shrimp into the sauce before bringing it to Brice’s lips. He held it over the palm of the other hand so as not to drip onto Brice’s clothing. Brice opened and took a bite from the shrimp. Remy put more sauce on and fed Brice the last portion.

“Do you want another drink, sir?” Remy asked.

“What do you like to drink?”

“Vodka martinis.”

“Order one. We can share it.”

“Okay.” Remy waved the barman over, and Brice let him choose the vodka. “Belvedere.”

When the drink was ready, Brice handed it to Remy. He liked the way Remy’s lips looked pressed against the glass. He couldn’t wait for them to be pressed against him—his lips, his body, his—

Another shrimp headed in his direction. “You have this one,” Brice said.

Remy took a bite and dipped more sauce, getting some on his fingers. As he brought his hand up, Brice moved it toward his own mouth and took the shrimp and Remy’s fingers inside, licking off the spicy coating.

“Hey, not fair. You said it was mine,” Remy teased.

They shared more shrimp. Feeling particularly uninhibited, Brice put the very last piece between his teeth and let Remy bite it away, but he didn’t take the opportunity to kiss him. The brush of Remy’s lips against his sent fire throughout Brice’s body. He thought his cock might tear through his pants if he actually kissed Remy.

Remy stood up. “Time to take something off. Did you want to or—”

Brice took hold of Remy’s tie and pulled him between his knees. He noticed Remy’s smile widen. He loosened the tie a little and then started undoing Remy’s shirt, one button at a time, slowly, prolonging the contact. Then he pulled the tails out of Remy’s shorts—damn, those shorts were so small, and Brice saw the distinct outline of Remy’s erection beneath the thin fabric. There would be plenty of time for that, he reminded himself and peeled the shirt back off Remy’s sinewy shoulders.

He felt and saw Remy’s intake of breath as Brice yanked the shirt the rest of the way off him. His nipples budded tight. He guessed they kept the temperature in the dining room a bit low because there was so much body heat and because the cool air made the boys’ nipples look so pretty. Brice pulled Remy closer by the tie and flicked the tip of his tongue over one nipple, then pulled it into his mouth. Remy’s hands went to Brice’s head, tangling in his hair.

Then the gong sounded, and the boys left to bring the next course.

I
N
THE
kitchen Kit came up to Jeremy. “Damn you learn fast. I’m going to remember your hot-sauce line.” He smacked Jeremy’s ass.

Jeremy realized he hadn’t even noticed any of the other boys or their gentlemen during the whole shrimp course. He’d only had eyes for Mr. Green. It had been fun realizing how nervous he was at first. Jeremy felt exactly the same way. Like it was a first date and neither of them knew what to say or do after they’d cleared the hurdle of expressing interest in the other.

But thankfully, the food gave Jeremy an opportunity to play. And Mr. Green loosened up and became playful too. When Mr. Green sucked on his fingers, Jeremy got so hard he thought he’d pop some buttons on his shorts. Yes, he’d put his fingers in Mr. Green’s mouth, but he hadn’t anticipated the surge of arousal Mr. Green’s tongue had produced. Then the little trick with the shrimp between his teeth. But Green hadn’t taken the kiss, which had Jeremy even more aroused. He liked the game.

“I didn’t expect your guy to go for the shirt first,” Rand said as he grabbed a plate of salad. “Very interesting choice. But hot. You look good in just the tie with the dildo swinging off your belt.”

“I thought I was gonna come when he sucked your nipple,” Kit added. “Fuck me, that was hot!”

A chorus of approval from the rest of the boys echoed Kit’s sentiments. Jeremy wondered why he was the center of attention. Had they all been watching him?

“How’s Mr. Gray, Kit?” Rico asked. “You’re still wearing your shorts.”

“Barely,” Kit replied. He’d removed his shoes, but all the buttons of his shorts had been undone and his dick stood out in front of him. Law tossed a ring of onion from his salad at Kit’s erection and even though he missed, everyone laughed. “He had his hand in there pulling at me the whole time, and I’m ready to explode here.”

“You wanna get off this round?” Taylor asked. “Salad is boring; they usually want some games before the main course.”

“Yeah. I don’t think I can last all the way past steak.” Kit shook his head. “Any volunteers?”

All the others raised their hands. Jeremy felt guilty he didn’t offer.

“That’s okay, Jules,” Kit said. “You play with your client. I wouldn’t ask anyone with a request anyway. Focus on him unless he wants you to play with us. But I don’t think Mr. Green wants anyone else’s hands or mouth on you!” He winked.