Ladies Dining Club

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His not-so-secret male condiment.
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I am a waiter in a restaurant. It is a very private, very exclusive club catering only to sophisticated women wealthy enough to indulge their exotic taste. To give you a sense of our clientele's predilections, the manager hired me because she assessed me as good looking and muscular with a tight ass. But here were the essential qualifications: I have a big penis that stays erect and wet, and I can produce prodigious flows of semen on command.

I dress to please the female guests, a tux with my erection sticking up out of my pants, right at eye level of the seated ladies. My large balls, which look like they are swollen with sperm, hang down out of the open fly of my pants, exposed to the admiration and touch of clientele.

Before I start my shift, the manageress masturbates my cock until it is full of cum to its tip. During the evening, my overactive semen system forces a slow flow of milky cum laced with sperm out of my spurt hole, which is itself swollen open from the intensity of my erection. This thick rivulet of cream makes it way down my cock shaft, hesitating before flowing over each bulging vein. Half an hour into my shift, cum is dripping off the bottom of my low-hanging testicles, a source of jaded quips from the seated females.

Some dishes offered on the menu have creamy white sauces fortified with my cum. A filet mignon prepared using an unusual recipe for Béarnaise sauce is a specialty. The beef stroganoff is favored by the women who think of themselves as gourmands and flatter themselves to create a vocabulary of words to describe the nuances they think they detect in the flavor of my semen.

Seasonal berries topped with a fluffy preparation of sweetened whipped cream and my cum is a popular dessert.

At the end of a meal, women use my cock to sweeten and cream their coffee. They hold their coffee cups near the tip of my cock. If they want a small portion, they just gently squeeze my balls which forces droplets of cum out of my cream dispenser. If women want a lot, they give my shaft a couple of strokes and my cock issues a big dollop of ejaculate to whiten their coffee. I make larger contributions to several lattes available from the menu. You can see why a prodigious reservoir of semen and ability to emit as many partial ejaculations as needed is a prerequisite for the job. I excel at both.

At the end of the evening, the female owner gives a short demonstration of my virility for the entertainment of the diners. She calls me to a little stage supporting a long, low, padded table. She indicates that I should strip. I remove my clothing, revealing my powerfully muscled body. I was surprised by the wolf whistles the first evening I worked. But frank appreciation from elegant ladies still thrills me. I lay on my back on the table, my huge cock sticking up straight up. All can see the cum on my cock glistening under the spotlights.

After rolling a condom over my thick shaft, the owner holds my balls and masturbates my penis until my every muscle in my body is tense and my pelvis is making involuntary fucking motions. I am covered with the wet sheen of sexual arousal.

When I reach the edge of orgasm, she asks the assembled women whether she should let me shoot the load that is straining to escape from my cock--or should she let me vibrant on the edge of orgasm. All thumbs down. She leaves my swollen scrotum and straining cock, aching to fountain, and moves about the room distributing complimentary autographed 8-by-10 photos of my cock and balls. My autograph is a dried splatter of cum.

She returns to my cock and again masturbates it until it twitches on the edge of ejaculation. My hoarse panting can be heard at the farthest table. My usually long, bulging testicles are drawn up tight to the base of my cock, ready to pump sperm.

Again a thumbs down vote. She uses the second intermission to take orders for precision replicas of my huge erect penis. She offers three models of the dildo. The first is simply a solid synthetic with a stiff core and a soft exterior layer replicating the "soft hardness" of my cock. The interior is a specially formulated substance designed to hold warmth when pre-heated. Microwaving instructions are included.

The second model is an outer sleeve installed over a long, thick vibrator. Like every dildo in this line, the surface contours are authentically reproductions of every detail on my fully erect cock. Even every distended vein on my shaft is lovingly replicated.

The third model is solid like the first, but comes with a big bulb connected by a tube. The bulb is intended to be filled with warm, viscous fluids emulating male semen. To simulate an ejaculation, the user squeezes the bulb, causing liquid to spurt from the tip of the dildo. The purchaser of the squirting dildo also receives a recipe for mixing up a semen-like liquid from kitchen ingredients and a coupon entitling her to a discount on a subscription to a weekly shipment of a generous bottle of my genuine semen. Isn't capitalism wonderful?

Finally, the owner re-approaches the stage to end my torment. By now, sperm-heavy cum is spontaneously filling the condom. Slowly, almost casually, she masturbates me, as if oblivious to my tense body to straining release a massive ejaculation. Suddenly, I feel a profoundly ecstatic vibration in my mind, which triggers genital convulsions. My throat roars involuntary animal grunts as my pelvis heaves with orgiastic thrusts and my enormous cock balloons the condom with rivers of cum.

I suddenly feel like a puddle of manhood, depleted of testosterone and all its effects. My eyelids half close. Every muscle is limp. The club owner carefully removes the latex bag of sperm from my still enlarged cock so as to not spill a precious drop. She empties the condom into a crystal flask, which is given to a patron who won the door prize drawing. The belief promoted to these women is that sperm rubbed daily on nipples and vulvas increases their sizes when tumescent. Not only that, hormones absorbed from male fluids supposedly make recipients hornier.

As another memento of the evening, I make a wet impression of my cum-soaked cock on the menu of the second prize winner.

For future reference by guests, door prize ticket stubs carry the address of my Web site. There, patrons will find pictures of me serving club members to reinforce their reminiscences of memorable dinners. The site includes a reservations page to arrange for private engagements in case my special massaging fluids work as believed, or not.

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