tagExhibitionist & VoyeurFamiliarity Breeds Interest Ch. 03

Familiarity Breeds Interest Ch. 03


Anne Marie, Becky and I plan the menu for the dinner where I will be a naked waiter for the five women. There will be five courses, soup, fish, meat, cheese, salad and then dessert. We are working through the logistics, when I speak up.

"I just don't see how I can do it. There's just too much food to serve and clear, and then prep the next course. We have to cut something out."

"Or, get some help," puts in Anne Marie.

"Right," I say, "who are we going to ask?"

Anne Marie thinks for a bit, then smiles.

"I might have a solution that will work."

Becky and I can get no more out of her.

The next two days are spent finalizing the menu, buying ingredients and supplies and cleaning the apartment. We are going to hold the dinner the Sunday night before the Patriot's Day holiday in Massachusetts. We can use the entire weekend preparing the meal, and no one will have to get up early the next morning.

Kathy, Linda and Rita insist on getting the wine, and Anne Marie makes a list of the types we will need. Linda also says she will bring pastries from a North End bakery.

On the day of the party, Becky and I are begging Anne Marie to let us know who will be the extra help.

Anne Marie just smiles and said that question will be answered soon enough. We have everything ready by 4PM. Anne Marie tells me to go take a shower.

I am finishing up when a breeze moves the shower curtain. The next second it is pulled back and a naked Becky stands in front of me.

She holds a razor and a can of shaving cream.

"Anne Marie says we should give the girls a real show and have a 'clean' waiter tonight."

She steps into the shower, pulls the curtain closed, drops to her knees and begins to lather my pubic hair. In a few moments, my already trimmed patch and balls are devoid of hair. Becky turns me around and trims the little bit of hair on my back and buttocks. Delicately, she cleans the space between my legs, careful not to nick my balls.

Twirling me around, she takes my dick into her mouth and moves her mouth up until her lips brush against my newly shaved pubis.

"Mmmm," she moans. Pulling away, she says, "Nice, no nose tickles. I think I am going to extra enjoy our little sessions from now on."

She stands up and shaves my chest smooth. She then lathers my face and shaves two day's growth off. Putting down the razor, she put her arms around me and kisses me.

"You are so fucking sexy, Owen."

"Might I say the same," I respond moving my hands over her butt.

"Out you go, I have to shower."

I step out and started drying. Slinging the towel over my shoulder I exit the bathroom.

Standing in front of me in the dining room are Anne Marie and another person. We lock eyes, then the other person's gaze travels down my body.

The surprise of seeing Trish, our favorite waitress from the pub we frequent, makes my prick move.

"Owen," says Anne Marie, "say hi to your partner tonight."

Trish smiles and shakes her head. "This is wicked better than the pictures. Owen you are wicked hung."

After my nude modeling adventure, the girls were sharing photos of my various poses at the pub when Trish saw them. She asked if she could have one and we were happy to oblige her with two that she chose.

They are now laughing and Anne Marie says, "Owen, the shaved look is fantastic. I can't wait for the girls to see it. It makes your dick look bigger, not that it looked small before."

"Wicked bigger," adds Trish.

"So, how's this going to work," I ask as I wrap the towel around my waist.

"Trish will help with the cooking and plate up everything in the kitchen. You will just serve and clear. When you bring dishes back she will take them and clean up. You concentrate on serving. It will work just fine."

I agree it sounds like a good plan.

"What is?" comes a voice from behind.

I turn to see a naked Becky coming out of the bath with her head down, toweling off her hair.

"Our kitchen helper," I answer.

"Huh?" says Becky as she looks up to see Trish staring at her.

"Geeze, I guess clothing is sorta optional around here," the blond blurts out.

Becky smiles slightly.

Anne Marie says, "As a matter of fact it is."

She pulls off the caftan she is wearing, does a pirouette and saunters to the bath.

"Holy shit," says Trish.

Becky excuses herself and disappears into her room to get ready.

I tell Trish I'll be right back after I get dressed.

She looks confused, "But I thought you were like going to be sorta naked."

I smile and ask her to start getting the wine glasses out to accompany the hors d'oeuvres we'll be serving in the living room.

A few minutes later I return wearing a pair of flip-flops and a silk striped tie that hangs down to my navel.

"See, I'm not over dressed after all," I say.

"Fuckin' a no," she replies.

I turn for her, flex my cheeks and face her again.


"Gosh, Owen, you are like so fuckin' hot. I hope I don't jump your bones in the kitchen. Just kidding."

"Hey, no problem and thanks for the compliment.'

I help her set the wine glasses on the coffee table.

"So, how are things with you?"

"Well, pretty good. I dumped the wee willie wienie asshole and started back to school. I already had my associate's degree, and I figured I should finish my bachelor's. Just community college, but I might transfer to U Mass Boston next semester. And, I have your pictures right in my room. Gotta say, though, the original is lots better."

We both laugh. Together, we lay out the crudités, dip and selection of olives. I put two bottles of champagne in wine coolers and set them a table by the couch.

In the kitchen I stir the soup, while Trish sets out the bowls.

Bending over, I check the sole baking in the oven. It is nearly done, so I turn the oven to warm and cover the dish with tin foil. My plan is to serve the fish and pour white wine, while Trish goes downstairs to Rita and Linda's where the rack of lamb is baking. If I have worked out the timing correctly, she would bring it up and I will carve it while she rinses and places the fish plates in the dishwasher.

I am just finishing putting the foil on the fish, when Trish says, "Owen, if you keep bending over like that, I am going to go crazy. Do you know how good your butt looks now? I just want to grab it."

I push the oven rack back in and close the door. Straightening up, I turn to Trish.

"Sorry, but you'll just have to get used to me being nude. We are going to be working closely here, and I can't worry about what is showing and what isn't."

"A problem?" asks Anne Marie as she walks into the kitchen with a towel wrapped around her.

"Just trying to establish some boundaries," I say.

"Oh, I get it."

She motions for Trish to stand next to her.

"He does look yummy," Anne Marie says.

"Oh, yeah," answers Trish.

"Look, you will never get over this awkwardness unless we do something. Owen, come here, please."

I cross and stand in front of the two women.

"Turn around, dear."

I do. Anne Marie tells Trish to put her hands on my butt.

She shakes her head, but Anne Marie insists.

Trish reaches out her hands and cups my tight cheeks. She squeezes and runs her fingers up and down my back, commenting on my muscles.

Anne Marie nudges her close to me and guides her hands around my middle. Trish takes the hint and runs her hands up and down my front, and then, with Anne Marie guiding her fingers, lets one hand rest on my penis and the other cup my balls.

"Ok, that should do it. Anymore, and he'll be putting eyes out with that thing."

Trish laughs and releases me. The ice had been broken and we both get back to work.

We were taking one last look around the kitchen and nodding approval at the preparations, when the front doorbell rings.

Becky calls out she will get it. Anne Marie dashes to the bedroom to finish dressing.

"Owen, you are really hot. I love the feel of you being shaved. God, I never thought I'd have my hands on you."

Just then, Trish and I hear female voices and laughter from the living room. In a bit, we hear Anne Marie's voice joining in.

The kitchen door swings open and Becky peeks in.

"Time for champagne, Owen." She looks me up and down once more and runs her tongue along her lips, grinning wolfishly.

Trish rests her hand on my butt and gives me a push, "Showtime, big guy."

I go through the door and into a unique night of erotic delights.

The five women in the living room turn as I enter. Their chatter ceases immediately.

Kathy's mouth hangs open as she was in mid-sentence. Rita smiles approvingly and Linda just stares at the newly shaven area.

Finally, Anne Marie says, "Could we have some champagne, please?"

I nod and walk to the table. I knew they were checking my ass and flex for their benefit. Kathy actually groans and the other women break out laughing. Linda adds an "Amen" and that shatters the remaining ice.

I fill their glasses and they take seats on the couch and chairs. I pass the plate of hors d'oeuvres, and in so doing keep my sex at eye level.

I stand back by the table with the wine coolers as Anne Marie begins engaging the women in conversation. I study how each is dressed.

Rita wears a pair of fashion jeans that look like they were molded to her. On top, she has a pink cotton shirt, open to the waist, with a white low cut tee shirt underneath. I noticed that her breasts are much larger than I had thought. Most times she wore sweat shirts, but tonight her chest pushes against the shirt revealing the push of nipples and her cleavage pops out. Her hair is pulled back behind her ears, but otherwise hangs down to her shoulders. I notice she spent a lot of time on her make-up, and has accented her hazel eyes effectively.

Linda has tan slacks and a light blue knit top. It shows her breasts off nicely. Her blond hair is in a loose pony tail, and her blue eyes sparkle.

Kathy wears a long skirt with a long sleeve silk tee shirt and brocade vest. Her blond hair is brushed full and cascades in waves past her shoulders. Even with her glasses, her blue eyes are sharp and alert.

Anne Marie and Becky wear black slacks, and loose black tops. I imagine there is nothing underneath any of that clothing.

I refill the glasses, open the other bottle and excuse myself to the kitchen.

I come in and find myself covered in a light sheen of perspiration. Using a kitchen towel I wipe myself as best as I can.

Trish takes the towel and wipes my back, lingering a bit on my butt.

"I guess I got a little turned on," I confess.

Trish looks at my member, and says, "Not enough."

I drink some ice water and ask Trish if she would start ladling the soup.

I go back to the living room and ask the women to take their seats.

Back in the kitchen, the temperature had risen due to the steam from the soup, the heat from the oven and the energy we both were expending getting things ready.

I fill a tray with the bowls and enter the dining room. Setting the tray on the sideboard, I place a bowl of soup on plates in front of each of the women. I am close enough to each to inhale the various fragrances each is using and the aromas are intoxicating.

I serve Anne Marie last, and she places her hand on my naked hip, running her fingers up and down my thigh, and thanks me. The other women all see this second of intimacy.

Retrieving two baskets of warm French baguettes from the kitchen I place them on the table.

I pour the last of the champagne and stand to one side as the ladies enjoy the bisque Anne Marie has made.

"Ladies," asks Anne Marie, "what do you think of the new grooming style of our waiter?"

All five women turn to look at me, inspecting my shaved crotch.

Rita says it is "awesome", Linda agrees and Kathy blushes and says, "It's all new to me." The other girls giggle.

When they had finished, I clear and take away the empty bowls and plates.

Trish has tied a bandana around her head to catch the sweat. She has peeled off her sweater and is working in a thin white tee-shirt. Her small breasts and prominent nipples poke through the thin material. She sees me looking at them and smiles shyly.

"Not like Anne Marie's, right? God, does she have a bod to die for, or what. When she took off that caftan, I thought I was watching a freakin' movie star. Becky is cute, too, but her tits are more in my category."

"Trish, they look lovely. I cannot think about them, however, or I will never get back out that door." Already, I feel a stirring in my groin.

Trish had plated the sole and I was dribbling a light sauce over the lightly stuffed fish. Taking two plates at a time, I serve the women and then return with a bottle of a dry white Bordeaux. As I pour, Becky runs her hand up my back and gently pats my butt.

I feel more blood rushing to my groin, but concentrate on pouring the wine for the others.

Taking her cue from Becky, Rita also runs her hand over my butt. Letting it linger for a moment, feeling the muscles.

When everyone is served, I stand by as they talk and eat. They are all praising the food. Then Kathy says, "And the service."

The five women turn to me and raise their glasses. "And the service," they say in unison.

I bow and then go around topping off the glasses. As the last lady finishes, I begin to clear the plates and forks, making one stack to carry back.

I push the door open to find Trish standing at the sink stretching her tee shirt out in front of her and running water on it. Sensing me she looks up.

"I spilled the fuckin' grease from the rack of lamb and damn near burned myself. I am trying to get the grease out so it doesn't make my stomach all icky."

"Forget it, it will be a mess and will need to be washed. I'll get you a clean shirt."

I slip out of the kitchen and duck into our bedroom. I grab one of Becky's white tee shirts that was on the bed and return to the kitchen.

I offer it to Trish. She smiles and strips off her wet and stained shirt. Naked from the waist up, she holds out her hand for the shirt.

Her breasts are tiny, smaller than Becky's, and are milky white and topped with dark nipples and hardly any visible areolas. Her nipples point out to the side and are erect. Her right nipple is pierced by a small silver bar.

My member starts to swell, rapidly.

"Shit," I say. I open the fridge and pull out a large bowl of water with fragments of ice floating in it. "Christ, I hate this part."

Holding it in front of me, I dip my balls and semi-erect penis into the chilled water. I grimace and fight the urge to cry out. In a few seconds the trick works, and I pull out.

My penis is back to normal, or even less. My balls are shriveled, but I have avoided an erection.

Placing the bowl back in the fridge, I tell Trish, "Don't drink that water."

She giggles and pulls on the new tee-shirt. It doesn't do much to hide her erect nipples. I wrap an apron around my middle and immediately go to work carving the rack. When I separate the meat, I ask Trish to begin plating it along with the small white boiled potatoes and steamed broccoli.

Stripping off the apron, I return to the dining room and remove the white wine glasses. I had opened some cabernet earlier and start filling the red glasses.

Standing between Rita and Linda, I feel each girl put a hand on my thigh and run it up the inside, stopping a breath away from my balls. Each then cups a cheek and squeezes. I tighten for them and they giggle.

"Jesus, Anne Marie, how can you keep your hands off this ass?" asks Rita.

"I don't try to," replies Anne Marie.

They all laugh. Rita then trails one finger down my crack and lets it slide underneath and lightly touch my balls. Linda sees her and Rita responds by motioning with her head to do the same. Slowly, Linda runs her hand up my thigh and fondles my other nut.

Anne Marie says, "It's too early for dessert girls."

Rita and Linda blush and remove their hands. I guess that all the wine is certainly having an effect.

I rush back to the kitchen and Trish starts handing me the plates, which look terrific.

I nod my approval, kiss her on the cheek in gratitude and return to serve the ladies. When they all have plates in front of them, I gather the bread baskets and go back for refills. Trish is leaning against the counter, holding a glass of ice water to her temples.

"You're doing great," I say. I have to reach behind her to get the bread. Our bodies touch, and I slide my arm around her waist.

"Really, you are great. And, you look so sexy in that shirt. Actually, you looked even better without it."

We kiss lightly and then, I open the tin foil package to put more warm bread in the basket.

I serve the bread and the ladies are enjoying the meat and having a lively conversation.

I take the bottle of red and fill Anne Marie's glass. Kathy wants more, and instead of waiting for me to pour, she reaches her glass toward where I stand. As I turn, my penis rubs against the back of her hand and comes to rest on her forearm.

The conversation screeches to a halt as they all notice the situation.

"Wine or something else?" I ask.

Kathy is staring at my penis as it lies on her silk sleeve.

Anne Marie reaches over and picks up my member and lets it drop.

Breaking the silence, Kathy says, "God, yes, more wine. And, I am never washing this shirt again."

The women howl, I pour and the night moves on.

I am allowed a rest after clearing the meat plates, and removing the extra silverware and bread baskets. I tell the ladies that the next course will be served in a while and they should just relax at the table and enjoy their wine. I brush up the crumbs and retreat to the kitchen. Trish has made up the cheese tray and added some fruit. I say I need fresh air.

Agreeing with me, we step out the back door, cross the small hallway and open the door to the outdoor porch.

Standing naked in the April night, I feel the chilled air spill over my body. There is a three quarter moon and the landing is softly illuminated. Trish pulls the bandana from her head and wipes her face.

"God, I am freaking burning up." With that she pulls her tee-shirt over her head and drapes it over the railing. She then wipes her breasts and chest with the bandana. I dry her back with the towel I brought out with me. Trish leans back into me and I slip my arms around her waist. She takes my hands and moves them to her breasts.

They are soft but firm and the nipples stiffen and harden under my fingers. I let my fingers play with the bar in her right nipple. My reaction is immediate and my erection presses against her small butt packed tightly in her jeans. She reaches behind and grabs my erection.

I whisper in her ear that I don't want to be like one of those assholes at the bar who are always hitting on her.

She squeezes my erection and whispers back that I am not and she is enjoying the contact.

I kiss her neck and massage her breasts. She slowly rubs me up and down. She turns, embraces me, and we kiss.

"I so want to fuck you right now," she whispers into my ear.

"Yes, I know, but we can't," I say weakly as she grinds her crotch against mine.

She kisses me again then stands back.

Guiding my face to her breasts, she moans as I take each little bud into my mouth, teasing then biting gently.

"Lord, I so, so, so want to fuck you," she repeats.

"Trish, I am turned on, as you can tell, but we have to stop. This is not the time, place nor circumstance to go further. But, believe me, you are beautiful and the way you look in this moonlight is driving me crazy. But, I have to get back in, try to get rid of his hard-on, and get through the rest of dinner."

She kisses me, rubs my erection one last time, then turns, pulls on her shirt and goes inside.

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