Ferdinando

One Monday morning my trainer invited me to a mixer he was throwing the next weekend for his clients at a popular local bar. I had heard people talk about this place at work. It was new but already well known, and also had a reputation as catering to a "fast crowd" and having some late night after hours "VIP Rooms" where all sorts of diversions were available. I was curious and decided to check it out.

When Friday afternoon arrived, I drove home and showered and put on some slacks and sport coat and waited until 8 so I would be fashionably late to the mixer. I had to park six blocks from the place, which was on University Avenue and sandwiched in between several gay bars, live music bars, a student punk rock spot, and a billiard parlor. This place had only been open for a few months, and it had a much classier storefront than anyplace for miles, and some serious entrance lighting, complete with bouncers and valet parking. It was called Mel's Place.

Even the bouncers had on more expensive clothing than I did. The door guy held his nose and let me in only after I mentioned my trainer's name and paid the $30 cover. The place was packed, the music was loud, and people were dancing even though there was no official dance floor. The lightshow inside was wild, lasers and holograms bounced in time to the music. It took my eyes a few minutes to adjust, and my first impression was that all the women here were way out of my league. Most of the so called "trophy wives" from my open houses probably could not get past the door man here. I was glad I didn't drink because the drinks here were super-duper expensive. The accountant in me envied the gross margins they represented. The little chalkboard food menu had the obligatory $35 Wagyu burger and $40 shrimp cocktail.

One cocktail waitress slipped by me with a full tray of fancy drinks and my heart just about stopped. She was so hot it almost hurt -- platinum blonde hair and perfect breasts encased in a gold halter top above a sliver of silver miniskirt. She smiled at me and it made my day. I would have to wait a minute to walk away.

My trainer spotted me and surfed through the crowd to reach me, using the same kind of moves he had used to return kicks in the CFL. He finally clapped me on the shoulder. "Hey Nando, glad you could make it!"

"Looks like this is hot spot I heard it was!"

"Oh, man, this is just the warm-up. Watch what happens in the midnight to 2 AM slot. Stay sober and look alive. Most of these women will start looking for a guy who is not drunk on his ass or doped up and might be able to keep up with them in the sack. Thanks to me, you should qualify, but I need to introduce you to my haberdasher to improve your advertising a little. Some of these budding supermodels and bored society daughters get very lonely because most guys assume that they are so hot that they are unapproachable or are going home with their dates. Most of them are on dates arranged by their agents, family offices, or their hangers on, and half their dates are gay anyway. What they really want is a fresh new straight guy who is not intimidated and will sweep them off their feet and into bed. Act like you own them and they will fight to leave with you!"

He surfed along towards the bar. I moved in behind him while he was running interference and got a Perrier with lime, for $18! The bartender was a super-hot too, and she smiled at me. I left a $12 tip, proving that this place was making me nuts and destroying my accountant persona.

There were no seats available anywhere, so I just moved around sort of like a leaf in a stream. Every woman I saw dazzled me. Most of the men just ignored me. After an hour or so, I got another Perrier and began to scan in earnest for someplace to sit. It took a while, but a group got up from the bar just as I approached, and I slid my ass into one of the vacant seats instantly. Two other guys jumped in one side of me, and I was forced closer to the girl in the seat on the other side. She kept her eyes down and her hand was up shielding her face while the tried to dial someone on her phone and she barely noticed my arrival.

I noticed her. She was built like an athlete, tall and long-legged, and shapely too. She was dressed in a tight black dress that displayed her breasts perfectly. Her black hair was up in a stack with some kind a fancy silver barrette. Hot, hot, hot.

She turned her face toward me for an instant and my heart jumped, because I recognized her! This was the cop from the apartment complex next door to mine, and she was dressed to kill.

There was still enough accountant left in me to worry. Was she here slumming or on duty? Did she want to pick up a guy or bust a John? She began talking on her phone. I could only catch a few words, but it sounded like she was arguing with whoever was on the line.

Finally, she put the phone down. I thought she was mad at somebody. I just hoped it wasn't me.

What she said next almost stopped my heart. "Lookin' for a date, fella?"

My dick said yes, but my almost CPA brain said I didn't want to get arrested. I froze for an instant. What would James Bond say at a moment like this?

Suddenly it came to me. "Well, I am very attracted to a good-looking policewoman! But I insist she be off duty."

Her face froze and she slowly turned and looked at me, obviously flustered. "How did you* * * * *

I tried to imitate the little wave I gave her every weekday morning from the parking lot. She suddenly flashed on who I was. "Oh shit!" she exclaimed, then she laughed. "Actually, that's okay. I was afraid you figured out I was a cop some other way!"

"Oh, I think I would have been suspicious anyway. Even in this place, you are not believable as a hooker working the bar. "

Her eyes flashed anger. "So, I'm not hot enough for you, Mr. Player?"

In fact, she looked even hotter when she was angry and animated. "That's not it. You are just a little too classy to be working a bar. Even this fancy bar."

Suddenly my trainer was behind her, giving me the thumbs up sign, and mouthed, "Go for it!"

She was still mad. "Where would you expect to see me working, then, Player?

I said the first thing that came to mind. "Knocking on a door of a suite downtown at the Marriot, for a thousand-dollar escort date!"

She was still angry, but the corners of her mouth turned up a little. Her expression reminded me of the way Shirley smiled when I first leaned in to kiss her. My dick noticed too!

My trainer said to act like I owned her. I couldn't think of anything better to do. "So, officer, when you are off duty, I might give you a tumble."

She still looked angry, but kind of intrigued. Then she looked anxious. She reached in her purse and pulled out a little digital recorder. She let me see that she rewound it, then put a finger to her lips and then pressed the record button and pointed at me. It took me a second to get my brain in gear.

"No thanks, I'm just here for a drink."

She looked relieved. Then she said, right into the recorder, "Are you sure I couldn't help you to relax at the end of HARD day, big boy?

I made a face, and she stifled a laugh. I took out my pen and wrote on one of the cocktail napkins. "How about dinner next Saturday night?"

She turned off the recorder again. "Okay. I'll see you Monday morning at the parking lot, and we'll work out a time and place."

She picked up her phone and began arguing loudly again. "I told you this wouldn't work!" She made her way out of the place.

My trainer took her seat, jostling another guy who tried for it. "Hey she was gorgeous! I haven't seen her around here before. Better luck next time I guess."

I tried to look cool. Then I showed him the napkin with the dinner invitation.

"Well, at least you tried, Nando! Keep pitchin'!"

I just smiled. He went back to mingle with the crowd. I almost stood up with him, but suddenly the super-hot bartender that was working the front was back tending the bar where I was sitting. I was going to stay here a while. She fixed me another expensive Perrier and smiled at me again. Magic.

"I thought you worked up at the front?"

"We move from station to station randomly a couple of times each night."

I nodded. "Keep that cost of goods sold in line, eh?"

She smiled. "Keeps the tips and pours more honest at least. Are you in the business?" I was not, but we had a case in accounting class about bars and their typical profit margins and problems, and I even had to watch "Bar Rescue" for homework.

"I'm no John Tapper, but I understand cash flow."

She laughed. "That show drives me nuts. How do they find that many ignorant people that own a bar? How can they go on for months losing so much money without waking up? What do you do?"

"I'm a very junior accountant. I haven't even passed my CPA yet."

"It's not that bad. I passed first time."

I was impressed. "So, this bartending job is a side hustle?"

She laughed again. "Nope, I own part of this fuckin' bar!" She stuck out her hand. "I'm Melanie Kapinski, MBA, CPA, and spirits entrepreneur."

"I'm Nando Cannon and I'm impressed. The margins on drinks are sure great, but the monthly nut must be high."

"Yeah, I pay more for bouncers and lighting than most places pay for rent."

"But you've got all the hot and classy women here, which brings the guys, who buy more drinks, so I think it's the right move."

"You broke the code, Nando. You were also smart to turn down that brunette hooker. If she hadn't left after you blew her off, we were about to run her out. We want all the high-end hookers and drug dealers to want to get in here, but we do our best to make sure they don't do any business inside our walls. Do you only drink Perrier, Nando?"

"Yes. I am a cautious guy by nature, but I don't need booze to lower my inhibitions when it is appropriate."

She gave me a classy looking embossed business card, laminated in thick plastic. "This will get you in without paying a cover, Nando. We need more classy guys like you. I have to keep enough decent guys here to keep the rich girls coming back. So, you have to promise to buy some of my female customers drinks." I gave her one of my plain white cards.

"Good firm. What kind of accounting do you do personally?" I had to watch what I said.

"The kind that assures client confidentiality, in addition to compliance with tax law and general accounting principles."

She smiled. "Good answer, Nando. Well, it's time to get ready for the 2 AM feeding of the animals. Are you looking to get lucky, Nando?

"What time do you get off work?"

She laughed a little too hard. "I don't do guys, Nando. But there are lots of girls that are regulars here that do like guys. Maybe I should introduce you to them. But not tonight. I need to have something to lure you back with. "

I smiled. "See you soon then, Melanie, and I would come back just to talk to you."

On the way out, the super-hot cocktail waitress in the gold halter top and silver miniskirt stepped right in front of me. It was a wonderful experience. Her platinum blonde hair framed her face, which was dusted with just a few freckles around her hazel eyes.

"Hi. I'm Brandi and I get off at 2:30. Will you still be around?"

I was so excited I could jump up and down, but a voice in my head said to play it cool. "I'm not sure, I thought other stuff went on here after closing?"

"Yeah. But that is a private party. I think leaving with me would be more your kind of party."

Don't have to be too cool, I thought. "Well, you are probably my type. I'm Nando."

She shook my hand and pressed up against me. Warm and cuddly. She parted her lips slightly and just waited for me to speak.

I finally did. "Well, if you see me around at 2:30 let's talk some more."

She didn't say anything, but the way she moved her hips as she sauntered away was mesmerizing.

I looked away after staring at her a little too long. Two other women were watching me watching her. I was growing to like this place. I would hang around, even though it was way past my bedtime.

A few minutes before 2:00 AM all the bartenders announced last call for drinks and there was brisk demand. Cha-ching. Then people either disappeared behind this green door in the back or went out to the valets to get their cars brought around.

About 2:15 a bunch of other people began to arrive. A lot of the women looked like Rachel Maddow and a lot of the men looked like Anderson Cooper. They talked briefly and then drifted off into the room with a green door, with a small "PRIVATE" sign on it, now manned by two bouncers.

By 2:30 the bartenders had finished cleaning up their stations and taken their cash drawers to the office. There were very few people left.

Brandi emerged from another back door with her wet hair up in a bun and wearing tight jeans and a plain white tee shirt with no bra and some sneakers. All her fancy makeup was gone, but her figure screamed at me. She looked like the cleanest, healthiest, sexiest farm girl ever. All trace of my cool act was gone, I just looked adoringly at her. She put her hand around my waist and steered me toward the door.

"I just live on SW 13^th a few blocks away. I hope you don't mind that I used the shower here. I like to get the 'bar smell' off as soon as I can each night. I have a nice shower in my place for you to do the same thing."

The valet had her car already at the curb. She asked about my car. "It's actually parked closer to your apartment than to the bar, so this should work out fine."

She smiled. "Aren't you Mr. Confident In Yourself. I think I'm going to like you."

"I know I like you Brandi. I'm going to do my best to show you how much."

It was only a few blocks. She pulled into a parking space in the garage under the apartment complex and we went up the stairs to her apartment. It was a nice two-bedroom studio.

She led me up to her bedroom and showed me the shower. "Give me your clothes, Nando and I'll hang them up for you. Go ahead and get in the shower and I will bring you a towel in few minutes."

I stood for a minute as if I were waiting for her to leave the room so I could undress. She smiled at me, then put the lid down on the toilet and sat on it. "I'm staying right here to watch Nando."

I hesitated. She giggled. "Come on Mr. Confident in Yourself."

My cock was so hard it hurt but I sensed Brandi wouldn't be offended by that.

I tried to maintain eye contact with her as I removed my shoes and socks. She held my gaze as I removed my pants and shirt, too. But when I dropped my underwear she looked down and stared for about 3 full seconds. Then she looked back onto my eyes and tried to look nonchalant. I didn't buy it. I took my time turning on the water and adjusting the temperature. She left the room only when I closed the shower door.

I could smell the "bar smell" washing off and going down the drain as I soaped up and used the little shampoo in the holder. I rinsed twice and realize I had no towel in the shower. I opened the door, and she was still sitting on the toilet seat, but now nude, and holding a big fluffy towel.

I should have been tentative and tender and tried seduce her gradually. But to my dick, she looked like a younger and much hotter version of Shirley, and once again, my dick took control. I walked toward her, and her mouth dropped open like an inviting little letter "O". She started to talk, but before she could get a syllable out, I put my cock in her mouth and put my hand on the back of her head, encouraging her to take it.

"Suck now, talk later!" I used the towel to start drying off.

Her eyes watered and she took a big noisy breath in through her nose. She looked up at me with a frantic expression, and then closed her eyes and gave herself up to it.

It only took her 15 seconds to reach a state that it usually took Shirley 15 minutes or more to achieve: slack jawed, tearful, drooling, nostril flaring, glug-glugging, snot dripping cock lust!

It was something to behold. She plunged my cock deeper and deeper down her throat, suppressing her gag reflex and astounding me with the sensations her throat could impart. In fact, she was rapidly tearing away all my resistance and already had me right on the verge of a giant ejaculation. I had several days of back pressure built up.

My cock spoke to encourage her in its own rough and ready way. "Take every drop, Brandi! Drain my balls!"

She made an even funnier noise and redoubled her efforts. I then realized that Brandi had a natural talent even more wonderful than Shirley's penchant for anally triggered orgasms -- she was so into sucking my cock and so focused on pleasing me that my orgasm overwhelmed her, and she had one of her own as I pumped everything I had into her mouth.

She made deep "yum-yum" sounds way down in her throat and sucked hard for all she was worth. I could almost feel the fluid move all the way from my balls into her mouth and down her gullet. It was transcendental.

And she just kept sucking, until I had nothing left to give her. I popped out of her lovely lips with a big smacking noise, and she began to mouth breath rapidly like she had just finished a long run. I had never seen anything hotter in my life. My cock hadn't either, for it was still hard as a rock.

I reached for her head with both hands and was overwhelmed with gratitude as I began to kiss her tenderly. There was none of my come left to even taste, she had gobbled it all down. When I broke the kiss, she began to mouth breath again, and I proceeded to kiss everything but her face.

By the time I reached her pussy, the toilet lid was slippery with her secretions. She put both hands up and grabbed the little bric-a-brac shelf on the wall above the toilet and spread her legs out widely and planted her feet on the tile floor and pushed her hips forward to the front of the seat.

I was planning to show her pussy the same of frantic devotion she had shown my dick. I began gently and then got progressively rougher. I suppose you could call it slack jawed, tearful, drooling, nostril flaring, glug-glugging, snot dripping cunt lust! I hoped I was just as crazy for her as she had been for me. I know I was desperately focused on her orgasm.

Just as I felt her abdominal muscles contract, I covered her entire snatch with my mouth, sealed my lips to her pussy, and sucked and tongued for all I was worth. She produced a wonderful, light, and slightly oily jet of fluid, entirely different in character from her thick and sticky natural lubricant. I happily sucked it down.

She took one hand down from the shelf and grabbed the back of my head just as roughly as I had hers and gave me two more little spurts. I would greedily take everything she could give me, too.

She was now limp as a rag doll. I threw her over my shoulder and carried her into the adjacent bedroom and threw her onto the bed. She made a little "oof" noise when she hit and bounced a little.

She looked at me with a weird, questioning expression in her eyes.

"I think you are my type, Brandi."

She laughed. "Fuck, Nando!"

That was my plan.

My dick demanded the missionary position, so I could dominate her and watch her face. I positioned myself above her and rubbed my cock on her belly, touching all around but not entering her yet. I kissed her some more and discovered that just kissing her was worth all my time.

When I finally entered her, I could hear the Hallelujah Chorus singing. She must have been a dancer because she began to move her hips in the most sensuous undulation I have ever imagined. Brandi was certainly my type. Best ever, a dream come true, all of the above. I tried to show her how I felt. It took a long time.

* * * * *

I was lucky I set my alarm because I slept soundly and would have slept through to Sunday morning without it.