The Restauranteur
Dear Diary, there was once a man so fat, and round, like Humpty Dumpty, and had a gnarly penis that smelled so badly of piss and vinegar. And I, being the desperate fool I was during that time as he was my only client, fucked him without a condom several times. I even let him orgasm in me.
He was "fixed" and he was manipulative and I had nothing going on in my life. He led me to believe that we were in a mutually beneficial and monogamous arrangement. Did I mention that, not only did he own a restaurant and has a cookbook out, he is the author of a piece of fiction? Alas, I was asleep at the wheel, and as cunning as he was, I shouldn't have bought into his lies and excuses!
Why did I allow him to defile me in such a manner? I felt guilty that he was an easy lay, and I did not want any further demands on his part to exceed my tolerance for sex with him. How shall I put this so you understand it? I was desperate, very desperate, for money. I have only been desperate for money twice in my life, and this was the second and last time. I was suffocating in my current relationship and dying to get out of it, my boyfriend and housemate abused me physically, tormented me mentally, and I suffered a great deal emotionally. I could not find God when I needed him the most, I hated the thought of going back to "work," hence hooking up the familiar old face of "Un-Savory."
"Un-Savory" is originally from upstate New York. He shared a house with his brother in Washington DC and rented the attic to some man who also worked in the restaurant business. And, on occasion, Un-Savory's son would visit and stay in the guest room. I had an ad in the local rag and Un-Savory was my second caller. He was friendly, he was eager, and he was well to do. We met before I became entangled in my own private Les Liaisons Dangereuses with the utterly despicable boyfriend who would enter the picture months down the road.
Un-Savory was one hell of a cook, my dear Diary, and it was through his meticulous preparations of hearty New England stews, chowders, and other gastronomical delights, plus the assortment of delicious wines, that rendered me helpless and under his spell. Each visit was a culinary feast and I felt so taken well taken care of and secure with him. With food like his, one could easily gain weight and not so easily shed the pounds yet he was in a perpetual state of denial. Each time I had to nod my head in agreement as he stated that he was losing weight. He only looked fat to me and worsening.
Now to his penis. His penis was small and stood like the Lone Cypress on a huge, hilly mound. It was not majestic or photogenic, it just seemed lonely among the rolls of fat it had to compete with to get attention. I pushed his stomach up and before I placed my lips on the tip I recoiled from the smell! My God, it was almost too much for a woman to bear! I held my breath and sucked softly, then harder as requested to get it out of its flaccid state. He was unbelievably disgusting. I unrolled a condom and mounted him. We have only been able to do it in one position and I am at a loss as to how to describe it. I propped myself up on my arms as I rode him with my legs stretched across his beast of a belly. It was quite a challenging feat but bankable.
This went on for some number of months before I fell in lust and Despicable decided to monopolize every minute of my day. Naturally, I had no choice but to seek employment in the real world. I worked as a model and actually got paid for it, with a few acting gigs here and there, not to mention mundane work in a variety of offices and I'm sure there are some other dead end jobs listed on my resume. I was even interviewed on a local radio station and scheduled to make an appearance in New York on a major radio show that was cancelled, thanks to an outrageous stint orchestrated by the two radio jocks who now air on satellite.
Once my relationship turned south and the abuse continued, I made a decision to get out. I had to make quick cash and I resumed my relationship with Un-Savory. But this time, he wanted bareback. The bastard knew I was desperate. He convinced me by saying he was incapable of getting anyone pregnant, which was true, but it was really a lousy excuse to compromise one's health for a few lousy hundred. What could I do? I was getting my ass beaten down every day, not always literally, and I was wearing thin. My self esteem took several major hits so I wasn't thinking straight. I am embarassed, my sweet Diary, and ashamed that I let this pig fake my skin to skin. And when he let it slip that he was fucking some 18 year old girl from his restaurant who obviously had the same self esteem issues, I was livid. How much was he paying her? He had accidentally mentioned that she was blackmailing him by saying she was pregnant and threatening to expose their relationship to mutual associates.
Let me tell you what I told her, he bragged, I told her that an old man fucking a young girl doesn't look so stupid as a young girl fucking an old man. When he realized what all he said, he calmly tried to back track and change his story with excuses so absurd it was implausible.
Especially with knowing the history of the girl in question, I couldn't imagine what diseases were festering on his dick.
Girl In Question (GIQ) was a loose cannon and and a nymphomaniac who worked as a cashier in his restaurant. She was a striking and statuesque blonde with big blue eyes and a body to die for, the type of body only an 18 year old could have. Taut, toned & free from the ravishes of childbirth and sun damage. Un-Savory had numerous pictures of her glued to various men's dicks. In one set she is facing the camera while riding some lanky boy with a big dick and in another set she is fucking one of Un-Savory's friends from upstate New York, the same friend he tried to coax me into doing. I refused as I don't fuck friends of clients and certainly not in the same house where both men can easily overpower you and conspire to bury your body in the woods or throw it over a guard rail and into a river.
It is another thing if it's my own time, there is nothing like having two cocks at once. But I shall refrain from disgressing and stick with the story at hand.
Lest I forget, for months Un-Savory had been desperately trying to arrange a meeting with the both of us. She had expressed interest in trying another woman, as she put it, and he thought we'd be a perfect fit. True to form I said no as I refused to serve as an outlet for his deviant imagination. I suspected that it was his idea and solely his idea and like me, GIQ was under the spell of this fat, smelly warlock who must have laced his food with the teat of Venus to manipulate us into fucking him without a safety net, to suck that foul, smelly worm of a penis and do his bidding without caution or question.
The final straw was Un-Savory forgetting to pay me my fee. He promised that he would have it the next time we were to meet. He also manipulated me, once again, by requesting my help on his new book. I was flattered that he wanted my input on one of his characters, a Middle Eastern seductress slash terrorist who is able to snare some high power guy on the Hill and milk him of our America's secrets.
When did you turn your first trick? was the first question out of Un-Savory's mouth. I was floored. How dare he? How dare he even speak to me like that, like some cheap and common street prostitute. He crossed the line with his derisive question and I performed my duty and left. He actually had the nerve to write me a check that bounced. I was shocked that a man living in a house such as his would do such a thing. I called and after much nagging he made an appointment so I could get paid for last time. Then, he tried to get another free one in. Unsavory indeed. I left with the excuse that I had forgotten to lock the doors on my car and I never looked back. It was the end of the debacle between Un-Savory and I.
He was "fixed" and he was manipulative and I had nothing going on in my life. He led me to believe that we were in a mutually beneficial and monogamous arrangement. Did I mention that, not only did he own a restaurant and has a cookbook out, he is the author of a piece of fiction? Alas, I was asleep at the wheel, and as cunning as he was, I shouldn't have bought into his lies and excuses!
Why did I allow him to defile me in such a manner? I felt guilty that he was an easy lay, and I did not want any further demands on his part to exceed my tolerance for sex with him. How shall I put this so you understand it? I was desperate, very desperate, for money. I have only been desperate for money twice in my life, and this was the second and last time. I was suffocating in my current relationship and dying to get out of it, my boyfriend and housemate abused me physically, tormented me mentally, and I suffered a great deal emotionally. I could not find God when I needed him the most, I hated the thought of going back to "work," hence hooking up the familiar old face of "Un-Savory."
"Un-Savory" is originally from upstate New York. He shared a house with his brother in Washington DC and rented the attic to some man who also worked in the restaurant business. And, on occasion, Un-Savory's son would visit and stay in the guest room. I had an ad in the local rag and Un-Savory was my second caller. He was friendly, he was eager, and he was well to do. We met before I became entangled in my own private Les Liaisons Dangereuses with the utterly despicable boyfriend who would enter the picture months down the road.
Un-Savory was one hell of a cook, my dear Diary, and it was through his meticulous preparations of hearty New England stews, chowders, and other gastronomical delights, plus the assortment of delicious wines, that rendered me helpless and under his spell. Each visit was a culinary feast and I felt so taken well taken care of and secure with him. With food like his, one could easily gain weight and not so easily shed the pounds yet he was in a perpetual state of denial. Each time I had to nod my head in agreement as he stated that he was losing weight. He only looked fat to me and worsening.
Now to his penis. His penis was small and stood like the Lone Cypress on a huge, hilly mound. It was not majestic or photogenic, it just seemed lonely among the rolls of fat it had to compete with to get attention. I pushed his stomach up and before I placed my lips on the tip I recoiled from the smell! My God, it was almost too much for a woman to bear! I held my breath and sucked softly, then harder as requested to get it out of its flaccid state. He was unbelievably disgusting. I unrolled a condom and mounted him. We have only been able to do it in one position and I am at a loss as to how to describe it. I propped myself up on my arms as I rode him with my legs stretched across his beast of a belly. It was quite a challenging feat but bankable.
This went on for some number of months before I fell in lust and Despicable decided to monopolize every minute of my day. Naturally, I had no choice but to seek employment in the real world. I worked as a model and actually got paid for it, with a few acting gigs here and there, not to mention mundane work in a variety of offices and I'm sure there are some other dead end jobs listed on my resume. I was even interviewed on a local radio station and scheduled to make an appearance in New York on a major radio show that was cancelled, thanks to an outrageous stint orchestrated by the two radio jocks who now air on satellite.
Once my relationship turned south and the abuse continued, I made a decision to get out. I had to make quick cash and I resumed my relationship with Un-Savory. But this time, he wanted bareback. The bastard knew I was desperate. He convinced me by saying he was incapable of getting anyone pregnant, which was true, but it was really a lousy excuse to compromise one's health for a few lousy hundred. What could I do? I was getting my ass beaten down every day, not always literally, and I was wearing thin. My self esteem took several major hits so I wasn't thinking straight. I am embarassed, my sweet Diary, and ashamed that I let this pig fake my skin to skin. And when he let it slip that he was fucking some 18 year old girl from his restaurant who obviously had the same self esteem issues, I was livid. How much was he paying her? He had accidentally mentioned that she was blackmailing him by saying she was pregnant and threatening to expose their relationship to mutual associates.
Let me tell you what I told her, he bragged, I told her that an old man fucking a young girl doesn't look so stupid as a young girl fucking an old man. When he realized what all he said, he calmly tried to back track and change his story with excuses so absurd it was implausible.
Especially with knowing the history of the girl in question, I couldn't imagine what diseases were festering on his dick.
Girl In Question (GIQ) was a loose cannon and and a nymphomaniac who worked as a cashier in his restaurant. She was a striking and statuesque blonde with big blue eyes and a body to die for, the type of body only an 18 year old could have. Taut, toned & free from the ravishes of childbirth and sun damage. Un-Savory had numerous pictures of her glued to various men's dicks. In one set she is facing the camera while riding some lanky boy with a big dick and in another set she is fucking one of Un-Savory's friends from upstate New York, the same friend he tried to coax me into doing. I refused as I don't fuck friends of clients and certainly not in the same house where both men can easily overpower you and conspire to bury your body in the woods or throw it over a guard rail and into a river.
It is another thing if it's my own time, there is nothing like having two cocks at once. But I shall refrain from disgressing and stick with the story at hand.
Lest I forget, for months Un-Savory had been desperately trying to arrange a meeting with the both of us. She had expressed interest in trying another woman, as she put it, and he thought we'd be a perfect fit. True to form I said no as I refused to serve as an outlet for his deviant imagination. I suspected that it was his idea and solely his idea and like me, GIQ was under the spell of this fat, smelly warlock who must have laced his food with the teat of Venus to manipulate us into fucking him without a safety net, to suck that foul, smelly worm of a penis and do his bidding without caution or question.
The final straw was Un-Savory forgetting to pay me my fee. He promised that he would have it the next time we were to meet. He also manipulated me, once again, by requesting my help on his new book. I was flattered that he wanted my input on one of his characters, a Middle Eastern seductress slash terrorist who is able to snare some high power guy on the Hill and milk him of our America's secrets.
When did you turn your first trick? was the first question out of Un-Savory's mouth. I was floored. How dare he? How dare he even speak to me like that, like some cheap and common street prostitute. He crossed the line with his derisive question and I performed my duty and left. He actually had the nerve to write me a check that bounced. I was shocked that a man living in a house such as his would do such a thing. I called and after much nagging he made an appointment so I could get paid for last time. Then, he tried to get another free one in. Unsavory indeed. I left with the excuse that I had forgotten to lock the doors on my car and I never looked back. It was the end of the debacle between Un-Savory and I.
posted by ydiml at 4:50 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home