Date: Tue, 9 Jun 1998 16:24:19 EDT
From: Awrt96@aol.com
Subject: Waiter for Dinner

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A Waiter for Dinner

Chapter 1
	I had been rushing all morning, so busy I didn't even have time for anything
except a cup of coffee and a glass of orange juice that morning.  Here it was,
11:30 a.m. and I was starving.  I hadn't eaten at the new restaurant that
opened a few months ago on the Boulevard.  This might be  a good time to give
it a try.
	As I drove down the broad, busy street, I saw the sign . . . Marmalade
Restaurant.  The restaurant was housed in a brownish colored stucco building
with large windows stretching across the front.  Lush green plantings
decorated the entrance.  I pulled the car into valet parking and got out.  I
walked into the almost empty restaurant and waited to be seated.  The place
had a pleasing ambiance . . . a lot of marble, wood and metal furnishings
finished with padded seat cushions in a somber floral pattern.  Wicker baskets
hung decoratively from the walls.  The decor came together in a very pleasant
manner . . . very Southern Californian.
	The young hostess seated me in a section of the restaurant that was deserted.
While waiting for a menu, I took in the place.  Just like every other upscale
restaurant in Los Angeles, it was populated with Hispanic bus boys, hunky
young waiters and trim, lithe young waitresses.  They all were dressed in a
similar manner . . . khaki trousers and white t-shirts under brocaded vests.
The fabric of the vests was vaguely familiar to me but I pushed that aside
with thoughts of what I had accomplished this morning.  Several of that
morning's tasks and errands involved things I wasn't particularly fond of
doing, like cleaning up the mess in my home office, making several long
distance phone calls, checking with the packaging store to find out why the
package I had paid $50 to ship had not arrived at its destination.  The one
high point of the day, believe it or not, was standing in line at the Post
Office.
	The wait in line at the Post Office was surprisingly pleasant, primarily due
to the handsome young man standing in line in front of me.  He sported a black
baseball cap.  His long orange/blonde hair, tucked through the hole in the
back of his cap, cascaded down his back.  `Ah, another aspiring rock
musician,' I silently thought as I survey the rest of his gorgeous piece of
young manhood.  `This town is full of them,' I mused.  He wore a black T-shirt
emblazoned with "Showgirls" in large white lettering on the back.  `Humm, must
work for a production company,' I thought.   Glancing down his slender 6 foot
frame, my eyes were treated to the sight of perfect, tight, round little
asscheeks encased in flimsy sweat pants.  The material clung lovingly to his
beautiful ass, so lovingly that it was very apparent he wore no underwear
beneath the pants.
	As we stood waiting for the next available clerk, the young guy impatiently
fidgeted with the mail in his hands.   He turned around facing me, shifting
his weight from one foot to the other.  Once again, I was treated  to a
beguiling sight.  The boy's bulging genitals strained against the fabric of
the sweat pants.  Shit, I could actually see the outline of his large, soft
but meaty cock draped over his beefy nuts.  This kid was a fucking stallion!  
	I couldn't keep my eyes off this basket of plenty.  I felt that familiar
tingling in my own crotch as I ogled the boy.  `Damn, I thought, `I wish I
hadn't worn boxers this morning.  He's gonna see dick getting hard in my
shorts!'  I thought, feeling a blush rise up my neck.  His sly wink told me he
knew I was scoping him out.  When he was called to the counter, I watched as
he lithely moved forward.  
	As he stood there before the counter, I sense him begin teasing me, flexing
his asscheeks in a manner that guaranteed that my cock rose up to its fullest
state of erection.  The bastard!  When he had finished his business, he
turned, looking  me squarely  in the eye.  With a lecherous smirk, he broadly
winked and walked out of the post office.  I put my package in front of my
crotch as I walked up to the counter to transact my business, hoping to hide
my raging hard on.  The postal clerk smiled knowingly at me as I approached.
God, my lust had been so transparent!
	With these thought coursing through my mine, I was startled when a deep, rich
voice said, "Would you like to start with something to drink?"  
	I looked up started and involuntarily gasped, "Oh, shit!"
	"Is something wrong, sir?" a gorgeous young waiter asked, alarmed.
	"Oh, no," I said apologetically.  "I was lost in thought and you kinda of
startled me.  It's nothing to be concerned about.  And yes, a cup of coffee,
please."
	The handsome young waiter handed me a menu and walked away.  As he sauntered
away, I noticed he was dressed in the uniform of the day; baggy khaki pants
and the ubiquitous brocaded vest and T-shirt.  `Shit, why do they have to wear
such baggy pants,' I thought.  `You can't really appreciate their bodies.'
	Soon, the young man returned with a cup of coffee.  During his absence, I had
studied the menu carefully and settled on chicken Italian sausage with
rigatoni and a salad.  As I ordered, the server said, "That's a whole lot of
food.  I'll bring a half order of the rigatoni and half a salad for you.  That
really will be plenty since the orders here are huge."
	I thanked him and again watched him as he strolled  away.  Even though the
pants were baggy, the outlines of a rather nice ass presented itself beneath
the material as he moved.  Not much more was visible, though,  as he wore a
short apron covering his basket and, unfortunately, obscuring the family
jewels.  While he was retrieving my salad, I remember why the vest material, a
brown, white and beige floral pattern,  seemed so familiar.  I had recently
purchased napkins and place mats that were made from almost an identical
material.
	In a short while, the beautiful young waiter returned with my salad and then
with the rigatoni.  He was right.  Even the half-orders were large.  Since it
was still a bit early for a California lunch and his station was still quite
empty, he hovered nearby, making sure that I enjoyed my lunch.  Upon finishing
my food, I sat back as he removed my plates.  He asked if I wanted dessert or
a warm up of my coffee.  I opted for the latter which he quickly delivered.
	As he neared the table, I reached up and touched the vest, feeling the
fabric.  He flinched at my touch and then relaxed as I said, "I just bought
some napkins and place mats made out of almost the exact same fabric."  
	"Really," he said excitedly.  "I've been looking for something like this for
my dining room.  Where did you get them?" 
	As I explained the circumstances of my purchase, he jokingly said, "I suppose
you want my vest now to got along with your napkins."	
	"Only if you come with it!" I boldly said.  He laughed at my retort and
continued,
	"I'd love to see those linens of yours."
	"Well, I live in the neighborhood.  You could stop by after work and I'd be
happy to show them to you."
	"I'd love to but there's a problems.  My car's in the shop and I took the bus
to work so I have no way of getting there.  By the way, my name is Steve."
	"Hey, that's no problem, Steve.  I could pick you up and then drive you home.
Oh, and I'm Giordano.  My friends call me Jordan."
	"Ah, Italian.  That explains the rigatoni and the Italian sausage," he
smiled, extending his hand in friendship.  "I really like Italian sausage,
too," he said with a sly wink.
	Steve soon brought the bill which I settled with a large tip and as he
thanked me, we arranged to have me pick him up outside the restaurant at 6:30
p.m.  `With any kind of luck,' I thought to myself, `he'll be nibbling on my
`Italian sausage' before this evening is over.'
	
Chapter 2
	Just as we had arranged, Steve was standing on the sidewalk waiting for me as
I drove up.  He got in the car and we shook hands and drove the short distance
to my condominium.  After parking in the ground level garage, we took the
elevator up to the second floor and I opened the door to residence.
	"Oh, this is beautiful," Steve said as he looked around my living room.  "The
marble fireplace is gorgeous . . . and so is the marble dining room table," he
declared as he moved to the dining area.  I had laid out the napkins and place
mats on the white travertine table.  He felt of them with his hands and
brought one up to the vest he still wore.  
	"I see what you mean.  They are almost exactly the same.  I've seen comforter
covers and pillows made of this material but never napkins.  They're really
beautiful," he remarked.
	"Would you like to see the rest of the place?" I asked.
	"I'd love to.  Who did the decorating and designing?" he asked.
	"I did," I replied as we walked through the condominium.  I showed him the
guest bedroom and bath and my office/den.
	"You have excellent taste," he said.
	When we reached my bedroom, he said, "Oh, this is fantastic.  I love all the
wood!  And, the artwork!  This is really a beautiful room."  
	"Come see my bath," I replied, taking him by the arm and guiding him toward
my large bathroom.  "It's the room I'm really the most pleased with."
	"Oh, man!" he exclaimed as he entered the room.  "Oh, look at the size of
that shower!   And that whirlpool tub!  And all the ceramic tile!  This is
like a Roman spa!" he said excitedly.
	"Didn't it come out nicely?" I commented.
	"Oh, yes!  That Jacuzzi is tub is what I wish I had, especially after
spending a long, hard day in the restaurant."
	On hearing this, I reached down and turned on the tub's faucets.  Hot water
began filling the tub.
	"Those towels are clean," I said, pointing to the luxurious towels hanging on
the rack 
at the foot of the tub.  "There's shampoo and conditioner there.  Once the
tub's filled, the button on the side activates the jets.  Make yourself at
home.  I'll go get you a glass of wine.  You prefer red or white?"
	"You're kidding, Jordon?  You'd let me take a soak?" he asked incredulously.
	"Of course, why not?  Have at it!  It will really relax those tired muscles,"
I said.  "Now, Cabernet Sauvignon or Chardonnay?  Or would you prefer a
scotch?" I again asked.
	"Cabernet, please," Steve said, "if it's not too much trouble."
	"No problem, " I said as I walked out of the room and back into the kitchen.
I opened a bottle of good Napa Valley Cab and poured two large glassfuls.  The
rich burgundy color of the wine looked so sumptuous in the sparkling crystal
glasses, complementing the color and pattern of the `Imperial Rose' granite
counter top that rested on the kitchen cabinets.   I arranged one of the
brocaded place mats on a silver serving tray.  As I placed the glittering wine
on the tray, I heard the motor of the Jacuzzi start up.  I knew now that the
handsome young man lay naked in my bath.  My cock began to stir to stiffness
as I removed the hors d'oeuvres I had made earlier from the refrigerator and
placed them on the tray.  I returned to the bathroom, excited beyond belief.
	Steve was lying stretched out in the tub, luxuriating as the hot water
frothed around him.  Sitting down on the raised ceramic platform that
contained the tub, I placed the tray in reach.  I gazed down at the naked
young man lying there awash in the swirling water, his eyes closed in
contentment.  I  silently marveled as his masculine beauty overwhelmed me.  
	Steve was tall, slender yet well built.  One muscular arm lazed on the rim of
the tub, the other on his thigh. The turbulent water sloshing over him gave
exciting intermittent glimpses of the magnificent young man . . . the small,
sparse patch of light reddish-brown hair resting between the swell of his
breasts . . . the rosy nipples that stood up proudly from his pecs . . . the
fine line of the hair, the treasure map that receded from his navel to his
thick, similarly colored pubic patch  . . . the finely formed, meaty,
circumcised cock and weighty testicle sack that reposed between his sculpted,
slightly furry legs.  Oh, what a gorgeous specimen of young manhood!
	I sat staring at him, reluctant to disturb his revery.  My own cock expanded
even further into a throbbing erection that strained at the fabric of my
shorts.  My nuts tightened into a hard bulb between my thighs, pulsating with
every throb of my hard cock.  My asshole twitched with anticipation in my
heightened erotic state.
	Finally, I broke the silence.  "Wine?" I asked.  "And an appetizer?"
	Startled out of his revery, Steve self-consciously moved his hand moved to
cover his genitals.
	"Oh no, don't cover up, Steve!" I said with a throaty gasp, handing him a
glass of wine.  "You're so incredibly beautiful!"
	Steve took the proffered glass, resting his arm on the rim of the tub.
Again, I had a clear glimpse of the young man's genitals.  I picked up an
appetizer and held it in front of his pouty lips.  He opened his mouth and
accepted the tasty morsel from my hand, savoring it.
	"Umm," he said as he devoured the hors d'oeuvre.  "Really delicious.  May I
have another?  This is just like a Roman bath!" he giggled as I offered him
another.  "So sensuous, so relaxing.  All I need now is a massage," he said
languorously taking a sip of his wine and sighing contentedly.	 
	"That could be arranged," I said softly as I caressed his hair.  "That could
be arranged, my beauty."
	Again, glancing down between his legs, I could see that his cock was
elongating.  I reached down and gently took the lovely piece of manmeat into
my hand and stroked it to full erections.   Steve moaned in response to the
stimulation.  I reached further down and cupped his large nuts in my hand and
gave them a gentle squeeze.  Again, Steve moaned.
	I relaxed my grip and pulled my hand from the water.  A look of dismay
crossed Steve's handsome young countenance.  I stood up and retrieved one of
the towels and said, "Stand up, Steve."
	Steve stood in the tub and then stepped out.  I lovingly began to dry off the
water that dripped from his glorious frame.  I moved behind him, toweling his
back, then kneeling and doing the same for his buttocks, his thighs and
calves.  As he turned to face me, the soft towel absorbed the water dripping
from his chest.  Again, I gently moved the towel over his firm nipples, then
down to his genitals.  I wiped his cock and nuts vigorously with the towel,
eliciting moans of delight from his lips.  When I finished drying him, I
hefted his drooping nut sack in my hand and tugged.  The downward pressure of
my tug caused his throbbing cock to bob up and down in the air.  I reached my
tongue out and very gently licked at the area just beneath the crown of that
magnificent shaft, right at the area where the heart-shaped globes of the
corona come together, the oh-so sensitive area where whatever foreskin left
after circumcision gathers.  Again, Steve moaned.  A drop of precious liquid
seeped from the tip of his cock and ran down onto my tongue.  Steve's body
trembled.
	"Oh, fuck, Jordan!  Suck my cock!" Steve groaned.
	I slowly let my hot tongue work its way down Steve's shaft until I reached
the junction of his nuts.  I let my tongue linger on the soft flesh of his
hairy nut sack.  I moved the orbs around with my tongue, then sucked them one
by one into my mouth, causing Steve to writhe in passion.  After working on
his hot nuts for a while, I released them and began licking up and down his
cock shaft once again, sending shivers of delight through his body.   
	I stood up and using his cock like a handle, I pulled Steve into my bedroom.
I guided him down onto the bed and positioned myself between his legs.   As I
kissed and licked at his scrotum, I lifted his legs up and licked up and down
the crack of his ass.  I lightly flicked my tongue over his pulsing anus.  I
felt Steve take my head into his hands and hold my face tightly to his ass.  I
began a steady rhythm of forcing my tongue in and out of his tight man hole.
Steve moaned in appreciation then pulled my face off his hot asshole.
	"Take off your clothes, Jordan.  I wanna get at that piece of meat of yours,"
he said.
	I rose up and began to clawing at my clothes.  I ripped off my shirt and
yanked my pants down, taking my bikini shorts with them.  Both bunched up
around my ankles, caught on my shoes.  I frantically kicked off my shoes and
pulled the pants and underwear off.  Now, I was just as naked as my friend.  
	The whole time I was stripping, Steve was fingering his hard cock, stroking
up and down the alabaster shaft with his forefinger and thumb.  He looked so
fucking cute doing that, like a little boy who is just learning the pleasures
a male's cock can generate.  I quickly resumed my position between his legs,
diving onto his cock.  He let me suck on it for a minute, then pulled my head
up.
	"Swing around, babe!" he commanded.
	I did as I was told.  I swung my legs around until they straddled his head.
I felt his hot mouth envelope my dick down to the root.  I shivered in
passion.  I then placed my forearms on his body where his thighs meet his
torso, taking his stiff cock and meaty balls into my hands.  In this manner, I
held his cock up perpendicular to his body.  As I gently squeezed his
genitalia, I plunged my mouth down his shaft until my nose was buried in his
pubes . . . like his nose was buried in mine.  Mouths stuffed with hard
dripping cocks made it impossible to do anything but grunt our approval of
each other's technique.  Without warning, I felt his finger shoot up my ass.
I stiffened at the invasion and then relaxed once more as he began rubbing my
prostate gland.  I continued my squeezing of his testicle and my sucking of
his cock as waves of tortuous pleasure rippled through my body from deep
inside my being.
	After several exquisite moments, Steve pulled off my cock and in a garbled
voice said, "Man, jam your finger up my ass.  Finger fuck me!"
	Again, being the compliant soul that I am, I released my grip on his nuts,
sucked  my middle finger into my mouth to moisten it and then shoved it as far
up his ass as I could, striking his prostate as I did.  He moaned and
shuddered again in delight and we brought each other to shattering climaxes,
cocks sucked tightly into each other's mouths, fingers plundering each other's
asshole and legs strained stiff.  Once we sucked out all the sweet/tart love
juice possibly, we let the softening, ultra sensitive cocks slip from our
respective mouths.  I collapsed on him, exhausted and sated.
	Fearing that I was getting too heavy for him, I rose up, turned around and
lie back down on my side, as close as I could get to his hot body.  My leg
draped itself over his.  He reached up, took my face into his hands and
started planting sweet kisses all over my face.   I snuggled serenely into the
crook of his neck and feeling totally euphoric, drifted off into peaceful
slumber.
Since we woke up in the identical position about an hour later, I assumed that
he slept too.  
	After waking, we just lazed in bed, touching, exploring, nipping, caressing
each other.  The overwhelming funky smell of sex made it evident that we need
to shower.  I reluctantly got out of bed and went into the bath to turn on the
shower.  I guess we could both have gotten back into the whirlpool tub, but
that water was now stone cold so we settled for the shower.  We again explored
every inch of other's body with soapy hands and fingers.  We emerged, squeaky
clean.
	He spent the night with me.  We engaged ourselves in every sex act
imaginable.  The next morning, I took him home so that he could get ready for
another day's work.  I waited for him to dress and then dropped him off at the
restaurant.
	I guess you'd say the night was a success for both of us.  After all, Steve
got his "Italian sausage" and I got a brown, white and beige vest, the very
one I make him wear each time he comes over to my place.  Ever fuck a guy
who's wearing nothing but a vest?  It never fails to keep my Italian sausage
puffed up!

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