Page 77 - PENTHOUSE LETTERS 2018 Writer Of The Year Award Jim McCartan

and mingling, and she went out of
her way to flirt with the high-rolling
businessmen, politicians and the
occasional male celebrity that came
into the establishment. Her antics and
tight dresses were often a topic of
conversation among the line cooks,
though I tried to curb the chatter, lest we
all get fired for talking about the boss’s the next night I arrived at work determined
wife. If Darryl was aware of the gossip, to focus on business.
he didn’t seem to care. He definitely That night we had a big group of VIPs,
never tried to stop Gina from flaunting “I TONGUED HER in addition to a table with two food critics
her considerable charms. No doubt, we who planned to do a holiday write-up
were making money off them, but I always ASS WHILE for the local paper. So there was plenty
wondered if there was maybe more to the of stress to take my mind off wanting
story. Well, let me tell you, there was. KEEPING MY to bend Gina over the bar counter and
Gina was a petite brunette. She stood FINGERS BUSY pound her wet snatch.
about five-foot-two and had perky tits. Her Darryl and his wife were both on the
boobs were round enough to remind me WITH HER CLIT.” floor mingling when the food came out
of miniature coconuts when she’d lean for the bigwigs, and not to boast, thanks
over the hostess stand. She had long to my port wine reductions, the evening
layered hair and neatly manicured nails. was a massive success. After the tables
It looked like she went to the salon daily. cleared out and the cleanup was done,
And those dresses she wore—talk about was on her phone. She looked up and Darryl congratulated all of us in the back
sizzling! She loved to show off her body smiled at me, and I gave a little wave, with the promise of a sweet cash bonus
in the tightest sheaths or slinkiest little never expecting anything beyond that if our forthcoming review turned out as
slips. She never showed any pantylines, acknowledgment. good as expected.
causing several cooks to bet on what she Next thing I know, Gina smiled again As he leaned in to shake my hand,
was wearing underneath—if anything. and licked her lips. Spinning her chair to Darryl said: “Marco, we couldn’t have
One night, I stepped out of the face me head-on, she spread her legs done this without your hard work, so
kitchen for a break. We had only a under the table and pulled up her slinky there’s a little something else I want to
couple tables remaining in the back—two black dress, exposing her bare pussy. offer you. Do you mind sticking around a
businesspeople and one couple on a Was I hallucinating? I blinked. Nope. little longer?”
date—both groups trying to seal the deal, Gina’s pussy was on full display, and “Sure, that’s no problem. Thank you.” I
one way or another. The kitchen was she was no doubt delighted by my wasn’t going to argue anyway.
closing in another half hour, and it had incredulous expression. She reached Once everyone else had left, Darryl
been a super long night. Frankly, I was down with one hand and began to stroke opened the kitchen door and called in
hoping the suits would hurry up and herself, cradling her clit between two Gina. She was wearing a skintight green
pay their check and the couple would fingers. Luckily my apron covered my halter dress that set off her emerald eyes.
continue their foreplay in a cab. growing bulge as I watched this naughty Darryl beamed at her and kissed her
Between the kitchen and prep areas, private show—and she kept her eyes on softly on the mouth, letting his hands run
a small hallway made it easy to people- me the whole time. Then, just like that, she down her curves.
watch without being too obvious. I had a stopped, licked her fingers and winked at “She’s something, isn’t she, Marco?”
perfect view of the back of the hostess me as she went back to her phone. I chuckled nervously and nodded.
stand and the bar, and a partial view of I am not ashamed to say I made a “Well, when’s the last time you had a
the dining room. beeline for the men’s room to jerk off, dessert you didn’t have to make, hmm?”
As I mopped the sweat off my forehead and then stuck my sous chef with the Gina smiled and stepped closer to me.
and sipped a soda, I noticed Gina seated remaining clean-up. There was no doubt “I—uh.”
in a tall swivel chair over in the bar I wanted her, but her husband was my “It’s okay, Marco.” Gina giggled playfully.
area. She was engrossed in whatever boss, and he was “kind of a big deal.” So “We both want to reward our top chef

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