This story is fiction, pure and simple. There may be characters based on real people and events but the crux of it is nothing at all. If you read this and think you know how this story really transpired, then you're an idiot, or you were there, but that doesn't mean you're not still an idiot. This story also has no real basis in fantasy either. It's what if based on a never was and if you can't tell the difference between truth and fiction, especially when patiently explained by the author, then you should probably not move out of your parents basement.
In the basement where I work is a room where I change. Barely 8 by 10 with one door that locks and a shower curtain covering the pump room beyond, the employee changing room is bigger than some of the rooms I've spent time in, but none of them had the chair in it. The Chair is a high-backed wood chair with old lace glued around the border of the red felt cushions and painted gold to look like a throne. It may have 30 or 40 years ago when it was first done, but now its paint is faded and lace frayed. The red seat has to large black stains near the front and the backrest is worn and faded. Our story doesn't start here though. It starts upstairs at a wedding.
The Club is private for the most part. In the last few years to maintain revenue they've made the banquet facilities more open to the public to keep the money flowing but for someone like Leanne, it wouldn't have been a problem either way. As an employee, she would have access to all of our accommodations without problem. It's why she was married on the Dock across the street, overlooking the lake, and why her reception filled our dining room to capacity with friends, family, and employees past and present. Those of us left to work it toiled away for the most part, going to the windows to maybe catch part of the ceremony, or a large group going to the roof to cheer at the end of it, but the kitchen guys stayed in the kitchen making sure our friend's reception was worthy.
It was. Throughout the night as people finished up, they would disappear for a minute and return, better dressed and ready to join the party. I wasn't so lucky. As policy, at the end of service, whoever was in charge had to go out to the party and check with all involved to make sure that everything was up to snuff. It's how I found myself surrounded by well dressed friends and strangers, mingling through a packed room trying to find the bride, while still dressed in my uniform, black chef, matching cargo pants, and a fresh white apron. I passed family members and friends all quietly enjoying themselves, conversing at tables or in small groups while the co-workers were all thrashing about the dance floor or shouting across the bar. Leanne was the kind of girl that acted as a natural bridge between cliques. She was raised borderline religious nut job (no sex, no drugs, very little rock n' roll), but still managed to be cool enough that all the slutty waitresses and dirt bag junkie cooks liked her too.
After a few minutes of pressing through the assorted crowds I came upon the Ex table. It was an 8 top inhabited mostly by employees either off to school or better jobs and a couple of hangers on. Kerry, Roth, Chili, and Micah were all former servers. Dwayne was the banquet supervisor at the time, and the hostess, Brie, had just returned with a tray of shots. Chili, real name Jessie Hormel, leapt to her feet from excitement and almost toppled the tray and the already top-heavy hostess. Kerry, a platinum blonde former bartender grabbed a handful of taffeta at the back of Chili's dress nonchalantly and yanked her back into her seat with practiced precision. "You're retarded drunk and need to sit down for a minute." Kerry said, looking at me with the usual mix of displeasure and forced civility, a recipe she perfected after a mutual acquaintance of ours spent considerable time with her mouth on my cock. I didn't really understand her animosity. I'm a nice guy, I was good to her friend, my wife even stood up for her when some of the cooks would tease her about coming to work with pillow lines on her cheeks at 3 in the afternoon. I tried to be friendly, but she just took an unshakable dislike to me.
I tried to put it out of my mind by helping Brie clear her tray and passed out drinks. Brie was still too young to drink at 20 but was keeping occupied by getting the rest of the table clearly on the way to shit faced. She wore a baby blue and white dress that was probably a sun dress on any other girl but between her height (short), her rounded hips and ass, and insanely proportioned bosom, looked like haute evening wear. I was having trouble passing out drinks and staring down her cavernous cleavage at the same time, so I stopped passing out drinks. After a heartbeat or two of open mouthed gaping, Brie cleared her throat with a pissy tone and broke my revelry. "I'm sorry." I said and took an empty seat, separated enough from the crowd to watch them all easily.
"Is it because you got caught?" Brie asked with her pissy tone carrying on to actual words.
"It's because I didn't notice before," I answered while waving down one of the few remaining cocktail servers. "I'm going to have to bring up different uniforms at the next staff meeting." I winked; she sneered and started dragging Dwayne and Chili towards the dance floor after their shots. The cold silence of the table was a buffer to the rest of the room. Kerry looked past me and sighed, someone tapped my shoulder with a bottle of beer. I grabbed it without turning my head, "Thanks."
"Forget a girl that fast?" The voice was a little high and melodious with a slurred chaser, seductive and friendly. If the devil was a chick, (if?), she'd use that voice. I turned. She was tall even when I wasn't sitting and she wasn't in heels, with a soft round face and a perfectly natural smile. Her hair was curly and light brown, pushed away from her face, and just a little moist from sweating on the dance floor. She wore a black halter dress with thin strings that tied behind her neck and purple plaid stripes covering her breasts. It flowed out just above her knees where a ridiculously hot pair of those roman strappy kinds of high heels started. I stared, open mouthed, for a second time in as many minutes. I jumped to my feet, spilling my beer and knocking my chair back into Leanne's Great Aunt's new titanium hip. "Guess not." She slid past me into the next seat as I tried to help the old lady off the floor.
Apologies and furniture moving aside, I sat back down next to Dana. She had a tall glass of soda something in one hand and the rest of my beer in the other. She was giggling with Kerry about something and stroking the neck of my Guinness absently. "Leanne didn't tell you I was coming to the wedding?" Dana asked in a cooing whisper.
"She hasn't been here in weeks. I still haven't seen her here yet tonight."
"She's the pretty home-schooled girl in the big white dress." Dana laughed and put her hand on my thigh under the table. Kerry rolled her eyes, Roth and Micah left. "You don't call. You don't write. You're going to break a girl's heart like that." Dana leaned her head on my shoulder and sighed.
"You told me to stop calling you after I got married." I think I tried to keep my face blank but the look on Kerry's meant I was either wrong or she was psychic. I was glad the steak knives were long gone from the tables. Dana looked up at me with a look of desperate need and pain. Then in an instant it was gone. Chili, Dwayne, and Brie had returned with more shots. Dana leaned in and laughed with her lips against my cheek as her hand went up my thigh and under my apron. There should be a little back-story here.
On Dana's first day of work I flirted with her shamelessly to get her to join the softball team. A month later we were skinny dipping in the club's pool after hours. I asked her how she kept herself trimmed and grabbed her pussy before she could answer. I said it was stubbly. She said that it wasn't usually and then latched onto me when I slipped my fingers into where it wasn't. I didn't bring her off. Just touched, teased, and let go. It was enough though. She looked at me differently from then on. I'll digress for the quicker readers that picked up that I was married. I wasn't then. I was dating, closing in on married fast enough, and that's it. Two weeks after the pool she gave me my first free blowjob in dry storage. She didn't charge me. I would have paid, it was that good, but it was free of all the other requirements any other woman put on having my dick in their mouth had ever been. Not a quick pre-fuck suck to get ready, or a birthday special cleaning after the rare shot in the mouth. She sucked my cock in the back room of the kitchen, with her tits pulled out of the bottom of her shirt, and her panties crammed to the side of her soaking wet pussy for no other reason than she wanted to.
After that first time surrounded by cans and bags of rice, we would invariably find ourselves alone, together, making out with my hand thrust into her panties, my teeth clenched around her pale pink nipple, or her bent over one of the benches in the locker room as I tongued away at her furiously. She gave as well as she got too. I never tried to count how many times I shot into her eager mouth or how many times she's let me grope her in a stairwell on her way to the dining room. The truth is at any other point in my life; she would have been the perfect woman for me. It would have been a long and glorious relationship that ended either in marriage or slow, bitter, growth apart. Unfortunately, I was already in that relationship. As the wedding got closer things between us got tense and eventually she took another job in a different city. That was 8 months ago.
Tonight she was wearing a little black dress and high, fuck me pumps. Her cheeks were rosy under her make-up and her wide blue-green eyes held mirth and a glassy shine. Underneath the table her hand had snaked between my apron and drawstring pants and had clenched my half hard member in a gentle vice. She giggled against my cheek again and across the table Brie stared at me like Kerry had jumped bodies. I frowned at her. She clearly didn't know about the impromptu handy under the tablecloth and she certainly didn't like me anywhere enough to care about a seemingly drunk girl climbing on me at a wedding. Chili helped diffuse any tension by falling onto the floor with joy as the chicken dance started to play. Brie, Dwayne, and Kerry all helped her to her feet and out onto the dance floor as Dana tightened her grip and twisted her hand until she ran her thumb under the crown of my cock and rubbed pre-cum over the underside. The tempo of the song picked up, followed by the frantic crowd noise and Dana's strokes. She whispered into my ear, "Fuck you, and fuck your little wife. Tonight, this is mine, just like it used to be." She laughed again and bit me sharp on the cheek as Chili hitting the floor again brought another whoop from the crowd. She scanned through the crowd in front of us quickly and brought her lips to my ear. "Look down." She hissed through clenched teeth. I looked. She had tugged away part of her dress and showed of the soft pink halo of a nipple that stood out half the size of a pencil's eraser. I knew that nipple so well. How pliable the flesh was between my teeth. How sensitive they were when squeezed through a shirt and bra. "Look at that and try not to cum." The crowd was still huge, but at this second, in this place, not a single person saw that little bubblegum colored treat but me and her. The song ended and I felt the first pulse lurch down the length of my shaft and onto my pant leg under the table. I knocked over the salt shaker when she started milking the remainder of my load out.
As everyone sat down, Dana took her hand from under the table and dabbed it in the tiny salt pile before licking her finger. "MMMM," she cooed, "It's salty and sweet all together." Then she laughed and put her head on my shoulder. Dwayne came around the side of the table and asked us to smile as he took a picture. I'm not sure how well I faked it but it made Dana happier still. I asked him if he saw Leanne and he told me she just got in the limo and took off once the chicken dance finished. I cursed and got up after checking to see if my leg full of seed had soaked through my apron. It didn't, I said goodbye to everyone and kissed Dana on the cheek. She grabbed the back of my head and said, "Leaving so soon?" Across the table Brie glared again but Kerry saved me, tugging on Dana to pull her attention away. I made good my escape. I said goodnight to Brie on my way back to the kitchen but she stopped me with a hand on my arm.
"Define Marriage." She asked, looking from me to Dana, and back. I looked back at Dana and leaned in close to Brie. Her looks started to make sense. She didn't give a shit about my wife, or me, or Dana for that matter. She was just trying to sustain some small morale high ground by drawing a firm line in the sand. She had a reputation as kind of a whore but as long as she followed her own strict morale guidelines then she was still a good enough person. Fucking any number of people wasn't wrong but doing so when married was high treason. Apparently she thought that all biological function remotely related to the use of genitalia stopped dead once the rings went on. She was young and stupid, but it wasn't my place to point it out to her.
"Marriage is turning down a sloppy drunken fuck in the basement to go home and jerk off alone in the shower, now goodnight, Tits." She coughed into her drink and watched me leave. I shot through the kitchen, over a mop bucket and down the back stairs as fast as I could without eating shit on the freshly mopped tile and didn't take a full breath until I was in the changing room downstairs and half undressed.
My cum stained pants were in an old plastic bag someone left down there and the rest of my uniform was stuffed into my backpack with fresh clothes sitting on top of a stack of high chairs in the corner. I flopped down into the cobbled together throne we used for the Breakfast with Santa brunch once a year and was almost breathing again when the door started to ease open. It was late and all the other cooks were gone. I should have been the last person to use the room so I didn't bother to shut the door all the way, much less lock it.
Dana stood in the doorway. Feet spread, hands on the door frame, looking like the new sheriff in town. The dress hugged her waist and flowed over the round curve of her ass. I always tried to bat after her just so I could watch her shake her ass before she swung, and then watch her run. "What the fuck was that exactly?" I asked.
"Don't be such an old woman. You've got a drunken girl, that you know wants to fuck you, alone in the basement. Just shut up and give me that cock." She hiked up her dress and dropped to her knees in front of me in one almost fluid motion then yanked my still hard member out of my boxers. "Just like old times." She said before inhaling it. A thin drop of cum and saliva formed at the corner of her mouth but she just bobbed her head along, making muffled grunts as my resurgent rod tapped the back of her throat. With one hand she massaged by balls, coaxing more and more of me into her mouth, while the other hand pulled aside the purple plaid and worked her tit, squeezing forward until she pinched her nipple red and started over. Her eyes were wide and little tears formed at one corner just before she sucked and pulled her mouth of me with a resounding "pop". "Having that thing in my mouth always soaked my pussy." She stood up and turned away from me, holding up the back of her skirt so I could see the round white orbs of her ass and the nearly transparent, lacey, black thong that disappeared into her crack.
She hooked her thumbs into the waistband and pulled the black lace around her knees before reaching back to grab my skull and pull my face square into her ass crack. My nose planted on her asshole and my mouth went straight to her sex. It was smooth and wet. She was too fast to have seen it but it was silk against my lips and the insides dripped honey on my tongue as I pushed into her, fucking her with my face. I grabbed her by the hips and pulled her harder into me, driving my tongue deeper into her. She pushed back until she grew accustomed to the sensation, immune to the pleasure, the wriggled her ass, guiding me to new recesses unexplored. I pulled back a hair, just enough to see the smooth line of her puffy slit interrupted by the engorged lips of her pussy, quivering with my breath.
I bit her once, on the ass, low and near the thigh. Too close for anything but the lewdest suggestion of where my mouth would go next. I pressed into her with my tongue hitting the hood of her clit first and hard enough that the intensity made her try and pull away but she melted when I licked up, over her clit, through the sopping mess of her cunt then diving into the puckered ass that tasted salty like sweat and sweet like pussy. I lapped at her then, like a dog, battering her clit then scooping into her pussy for a deep taste of her. She moaned and dug her short nails into my buzz cut. She was breathing hard and every stroke of her clit made her forget how her lungs worked. She made a noise like her breath caught in her throat but still had to move, "Hunnnnnhhh.". It was all the motivation I needed.
I dug my thumbs under her ass cheeks, just outside her puffy pussy lips and spread them wide. Her hole opened up to me at the same time she gasped under my rough hands. Her knees buckled and she caught herself by placing her hands on the ground and turning her ass skyward, pivoting her pussy away from me but putting her clit dead center of my mouth. I attacked, latching my lips over the tiny hood and trapping the bead of her clit in my mouth with my teeth behind it and my tongue thrumming over it. She squealed into clenched teeth and shook from her impending doom. Her breath came snorted through her nose like a bull when she bit her lip to keep from screaming. Before she finished I pulled her back, digging harder into her ass. Her weak knees gave out and she impaled her still quivering sex down the full length of my rock hard cock.
Her pussy was beyond soaked. When I bottomed out against the back of her, our pelvises made a noise like someone stepping on a wet sponge. Her back went rigid straight and she reached behind her and grabbed my head, pulling my mouth to her ear. All the while her pussy hummed as the muscles inside shook with an orgasm that kept carrying her. I breathed in her ear, "You want this?" She raised her ass an inch, all her still shaking legs could muster, and dropped back down.
"Fuuuuck meeee," she hissed back.
A second later she was bouncing away, pulling my hands to her nipples to tweak and stretch as she rode my hard cock. Each drop made her grunt deep in her throat like she was expecting a blow that never landed. There was a desperation to it, like watching women play tennis when one is about to lose but refuses to stop. With her free hand she gripped the high back of the old chair and pulled herself up and down along hard guide deep inside of her. She turned her head from side to side, looking for something that wasn't quite there. "Fuck me", she insisted, riding my tool. I kissed the side of her face and pinched her nipple hard between thumb and forefinger. She gasped but didn't go. My other hand went to her free flowing slit and used two fingers to gather her juices pouring down my cock to lube another assault on the sweat pea of her clit.
It was too much. She jumped forward, off of me. My cock, still in her, bent forward, and then sprung back, flicking a thin line of pre-cum and cunt juice onto my face. I winced, closed my eyes, and tried to wipe the goop off. Dana grabbed my hand, leaned in close, and licked the side of my face. "Two great tastes that taste great together." then kissed me hard. She forced her tongue into my mouth, planting our seed deep behind my teeth to make sure I tasted out union. She moved as she mouth fucked me with her tongue, around the side of the chair, before swinging her leg up over the wide chair's arm and planting her wet hole on my cock for the second time since I've known her.