Dirty Dining (NSFW) — Bonus Sneak Preview
Copyright 2013-4 EM Lynley. Please do not share or repost without author’s permission.
Dirty Dining
from Dreamspinner Press
Jeremy’s a grad student who’s always short of money. When his fellowship gets canceled he’s tempted to take a job at a men’s dining club as a serving boy. The uniforms are skimpy and he’s expected to remove an item of clothing after each course. He can handle that, but he soon discovers there’s more on the menu here than fine cuisine. How far will he go to pay his tuition, and will money get in the way when he realizes he’s interested in more from one of his gentlemen?
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“Hey hey, Julia!” Kit gave Jeremy a full-body hug and held on longer than was necessary or appropriate, especially since he was naked. Kit was pretty much always naked, except when he wore the skimpy little costumes.
“Why’re you calling me Julia? It’s really Jeremy.”
“Oh, he thinks you’re Julia Roberts’ character in Pretty Woman and you landed the big fish in his fantasy version of reality.” Rico grinned. “Hasn’t shut up about it.”
Taylor nodded, causing his fine hair to flutter and float around his face. He didn’t say anything.
“I’m not Julia Roberts. I don’t even know how this is going to go. It’s one dinner.”
“I heard you’re an Only for Hunter Green,” Kit replied.
“What’s an ‘Only’?” Jeremy asked.
“Means he’ll only make a reservation if he gets you,” Law explained. He dumped his case next to one of the mirrors and went over to the wall where the assignments were posted.
“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.
Chapter FIFTEEN
Brice 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 watch 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.
In the kitchen Kit came up to Remy. “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.
Jeremy felt a little thrill the way he and Mr. Green were getting on so well. Not that they’d spoken much. Salad was boring. There would be time to chat then, before the steak, when they’d be chewing a lot. Odd how the courses seemed to dictate the interactions.
As he entered the room with the salad, he felt his chest—and his dick—swell with pride. Mr. Green’s gaze bathed him in a heated glow. He set the plate down and sat beside Green.
Green’s thigh next to his was hot, but now he was seated, the room’s chill hit him, and Jeremy felt his nipples peaking and tingling. They throbbed in time with his cock at every beat of his heart.
“Salad? Caesar.” Jeremy presented the bowl with a flourish and placed it on the table. “Or you can have just a green salad.”
“No thanks.”
“Another drink?”
“Okay.”
Jeremy motioned to the bartender who came right over.
“Another Belvedere martini, please.” Green didn’t even look at the bartender. He kept staring at Jeremy.
“Yes, sir.”
“There’s no anchovies in the dressing, in case—”
“Come here.” Green took one of Jeremy’s hands and pulled him onto his lap, facing Green, thighs pressed outside of Green’s.
“Today you’re not wearing a tie, and I am.” Jeremy couldn’t think what to say or do. Too much of his body was in contact with Mr. Green. And his cock was nearly pressed to Green’s abs, while Jeremy could feel Green’s hard-on against his ass. He put a hand out to play with Mr. Green’s collar. He wore a pale green button-down oxford and putty-colored chinos. Despite the casual attire, he didn’t look particularly relaxed. He looked like the kind of man who belonged in a suit with a beautiful silk tie around his throat.
“I wear them all the time, but you look very good in a tie, Remy.”
“Don’t you like ties?”
“Yes. I do. And I like suits, too.”
“You’re very handsome in a suit. Out of one too.” Jeremy felt his cheeks heating. “I meant…. Oh, hell. Yeah, I meant that too.”
“Would you unbutton my shirt, Remy?”
Jeremy was glad for something to do, a task to occupy his hands, though he noticed them shaking as he worked on the first button. He smoothed his palms across Mr. Green’s shoulders, squeezing just a little. He felt firm and solid. He felt damn good.
Jeremy got three buttons opened and traced his fingertips down Mr. Green’s breastbone, then back up along his collarbone. He felt him shudder under the touch. It was nice, having that effect on him. It balanced everything out because, until now, Green’s touch, his scent, even his words had Jeremy so on edge he wondered how they would get through five more courses. Now he understood why some men took their boys upstairs before the end of the meal. Would Mr. Green suggest that? And would Jeremy go?
Jeremy sat on Mr. Green’s lap, watching the boys play. Mr. Green traced circles around Jeremy’s navel with a fingertip and occasionally reached up to pinch or tug at a nipple. The little blue shorts felt like they would explode or cut off Jeremy’s circulation. He almost asked for Mr. Green to take them off, or at least unbutton them, but he didn’t. He’d been playful and a little slutty already. He didn’t want to overdo it so early.
Mr. Green tugged on Jeremy’s tie and kissed his shoulder while playing his hands along Jeremy’s thighs, too close but too far from his ever-expanding cock. Now it stood up over the waistband of his shorts and the top button popped open on its own.
“Mmm, telepathy works,” Green whispered against Jeremy’s ear.
Jeremy chuckled and gently ground his ass against Mr. Green’s cock.
Green nudged Jeremy off his lap. “I think it’s time to put your shorts out of their misery, don’t you think?”
“Oh, yes, sir.”
Green had Jeremy stand slightly to the side so the others at the table could watch as he popped each button slowly, allowing Jeremy’s cock to spring free with a bounce that got some applause. He shifted his weight and cocked his hip just right so the shorts slid down on their own. Kit had taught him how, and he’d had to practice, but the gentlemen loved it. Now he wore just the hat, tie, cop’s utility belt, and black boots.
Mr. Green curled one hand loosely around Jeremy’s cock as if admiring its shape and hardness before sliding his hand lower and playing with Jeremy’s sac. He pulled Jeremy between his legs and stared down at Jeremy’s cock as if he wanted to taste the tiny clear bead of precome glistening in the slit. Green moved his head a fraction of an inch lower.
And the gong sounded, ending the course.
Green gave Jeremy a wistful glance as he picked up the untouched salad and paraded around the room, his cock and balls swinging.
* * * *
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