Anal Summer Ch. 10

Taking great pains and joy in this beneficial but fun extension of our ass games," I feasted my eyes on her pink ring of pleasure and the ice I held, til all of the ice was melted.

"Mmm, thank you. That was wonderful, and it will help me recover," she said while I readjusted myself next to her on the bed basking in the afterglow of another amazing sex session. I kissed her lovingly and passionately without thought on impulse of my growing feelings. Madison kissed me back but pulled away saying, "Lawrence, dear I really have to get going here." I felt like I had made a mistake in showing too much affection.

As we cleaned up and readied ourselves for the day, I saw what a rush Madison was in. She was close to missing a very important meeting. It was a boost to my ego that she was willing to be late for, or even miss a meeting, just because she wanted my cock to make love to her ass. On the other hand, I was disappointed when she told me that she was having a dinner appointment with some clients and would be out late. Always terrified of scaring her off, I hid my feelings of regret.

At this point in my life, my time was spent for the most part in four places: The Bistro, the beach, the gym, and with Madison, so after she and I parted for the day, I walked to work. Normally I would have been ecstatic over my recent professional success, but it was all overshadowed by the dark, lustful forest of sex in which I was deeply embedded. I felt fortunate to have Madison as my guide and mentor in that forest. Something told me she took pride in turning me from a novice to an expert by way of her teachings. Madison would make subtle, sexy comments and lusty words of encouragement, like any good instructor gives to a pupil.

The realization that I was a sex addict didn't bother me. I had always known it. Lately, my almost constant desire was somewhat replaced by a constant smile.

The fresh summer breeze was blowing in from the harbor, and the smell of the ocean was refreshing.

Another week had rolled by and it was June 13th, so the summer was in full swing. The old neighborhood bustled with activity, kids would be out of school for the summer soon, tourist wandered everywhere, locals sat on old folding chairs in font of their building or on their stoops. There were also people from the surrounding area who flocked to the old neighborhood for the restaurants. Boating enthusiasts and sport fisherman had to pass through there to get to the harbor. So the old neighborhood was like a busy beehive.

The weather was wonderful if you liked it warm and sunny. I was one of those people who did, savoring the season, taking every chance I had to be out to enjoy the weather.

However, there were two major thing coming up this week, and I needed to focus. Ernest Plorde, the food critic, was due in any night, and he was notorious for the element of surprise. He would show up without warning to catch you as you really were, not as someone who was prepared. And the regatta was also happening this weekend. The pressure of these impending events did not faze me at all. Too young, dumb and brazen to be scared in my professional life, it was things in my personal life that would creep into my mind and corrupt my positivism into worry, and this was a constant battle inside my head. Most of the things I worried about then were not worth my time, however I believed them to be big issues then.

One of the major thing always in the back of my mind was "Big D." He was big and loud and acted like he was a "connected guy." At the time, part of me believed it. Gemma had taken a good amount of D's abuse while she worked for him, and she left without warning, opening up her own place, The Bistro, almost overnight.

The way Gemma pulled it off was legendary and was a massive blow to D's even more massive ego, a chink in the armor, a hole in Big D's gangster facade. He must have endured plenty of ribbing from others in the industry and from friends busting his balls over how he let this coup d'etat happen under his nose. I was a minor part of that coup, being loyal to Gemma, and it worried me at times that I was in D's crosshairs. There was more to it than that; I feared repercussions from D on a more personal level.

Gia. Gia and I both worked for Big D at The Catch of the Day. I was a line cook and she was a waitress. Gia was also Big D's niece or cousin, really, I'm not sure which. but Gia called him "Uncle D." She was very pretty and plump with curves; a voluptuous figure with a big, round ass and enormous breasts. Gia looked like the women you see in ads for plus-size clothing stores.

As soon as she started working there it was apparent she had a crush on me. We had known each other before working together, but I was clueless to her affections. One night after work she asked if I would walk her home. I became aware that she just wanted time, with me as the old neighborhood was still a safe place for a woman to walk. When we arrived at her door stoop, I could tell Gia wanted a goodnight kiss. She gazed at me like a woman smitten. Gia's pretty face seemed entranced with me. She stood there smiling, beaming in anticipation of me planting a kiss on her. I didn't want to. I worked for her Uncle D, and if this went bad ...it could really go bad.

I was just about to just say goodnight, turn in my heel and hightail it home. "Okay, goodnight. I'll see.." I began, but then she aggressively pulled me in and kissed me with an open mouth and lots of tongue. She almost broke my nose with the force of her kissing. Gia's kissing style was aggressive and smothering. She blew in my ear, then nibbled and tongued it. She worked her way to my neck sloppily nibbling and sucking on it. I was about to protest and pull away but her mouth felt so good on my neck . I got shivers down my spine. The pleasure overruled my logic and stiffened the mindless organ in my pants.

After a bit she invited me in. But we had to be very quiet going into the little studio apartment she had. The building was owned by her family, this meant her parents in the top floor, her aunt and uncle (not Big D) on the fourth, her other aunt and uncle (also not D) on the third floor. a cousin on the second, and finally a typical Italian grandma on the first floor down the narrow hall from her studio given to her as a graduation present. It was far from her own place, and the amount of family around her made it weird and intimidating. I said, "Maybe some other time."

"Oh, okay. How about you take me out on your day off?" The construction of that sentence reminded me of Big D. an ultimatum, almost a threat. It was kind of a turn-off, but the way she used her mouth on my neck had me longing for her to use the same technique on my hog. I was so stupid! I could have ended it right there. I wish I had. Gia and I went on a few dates under the agreement that we keep it on the down low. I explained if D found out it could be bad, and I was no willing to lose my job or get beaten to death on a deserted dock somewhere. At first, Gia agreed that it was a good idea.

I took her to a Chinese restaurant across town and then to a movie. Gia pawed at me every chance she got during the movie. She reached over and started to rub and caress me between the legs. My cock would harden at the drop of a hat. She would touch it through my pants, making me very hard and very horny. It was such an awful tease that I would stop her. I almost came in my pants from this on another occasion.

I wanted nothing more than to stuff this horny cock in every hole she had, but we just didn't have a place to do it. She lived in her family's building, and everyone would know what was happening.

In the old neighborhood, news traveled fast, and everyone knew everyone elses business.

As I walked and thought about the past and the time that I dated Gia, I started to lose that internal battle. Gia brought forth bad thoughts and fears to my mind. The brief relationship we had did not end well. She was possessive and overbearing with an undercurrent of spiteful behavior. What if she told Big D about us as revenge for me ending our time together? In the stupid, backward ways of the old- world thinking and old neighborhood code, only I would be to blame for the naughty behavior we both took part in. I would be on the hook for "dishonoring" her. Our shared debauchery was my fault and something her male family members would avenge by beating the shit out of me. It harkened back to a time when women were thought to be inferior and subservient. Women, not wise enough to make their own decisions, were seduced by evil men, the men were hunted down, and the women dishonored and looked at as something of a sullied impurity in the community. I'm not kidding! People actually thought like that, and I was dealing with the remnant of those ridiculous traditions and ideas.

Wishing I had never gotten involved with Gia, I tried hard to forget and put it behind me. drinking in the surroundings and telling myself to concentrate on the positive and do something more productive, like basking in the afterglow of my steamy morning fun with Madison. I reminisced about this morning's battery of Madison's butt and how her rectum must be a bit sore, and every little bit of soreness would be savored by her, a reminder to her that she had been rectally ravaged . This reminder would dampen her pussy all day.

She was so sexy, a dream come true. Thoughts of Madison always made me feel better. Until I walked right into Big D and, judging from his out-of-place look and body language, he was waiting there for me. This was NOT a chance meeting. He smiled his phony smile and feigned surprise. My blood drained from my head and I felt faint. Was this it? Was he going to seek justice on me?

"Hey, kid, howyoudoin?" The three words connected together as one. This was the old neighborhood accent, an accent I was desperate to lose myself. It was repulsive to me of late. I hated the pop culture stereotypes of Italian-Americans and wanted to distance myself from them. However, these stereotypes were something a mouth-breathing caveman like Big D wore like a badge of honor. He basked in his ignorance, and with good reason. Tourists found it charming and ethnic, and residents found it authentic. It was good for business.

My aversion to him was much deeper than that. To put it simply, Big D was bad news. He always came out better than whomever he dealt with. Swallowing my disgust for this neighborhood gadfly, I retuned his greeting: "Not too bad, and you?"

I was fighting hard not to look nervous or scared.

"I'll betcha you're doin' fine, but how would you like to be doin' even better?" His false smile was both phony and menacing. Acting as if I wanted to hear what he had o say, I rallied up all the courtesy I could muster. Patiently, I waited him out, forcing him to elaborate .

"I have a business proposition for ya, kid." He continued, "I would like to offer you a spot on the line at "The Catch." A great opportunity for ya."

He was a disgusting, sleazy, gutless, paranoid, egomaniac. Remembering Gemma on her knees both literal and figuratively made me sick. How could she lower herself? This bothered me, it bothered me more than it should have. Gemma was so smart and strong, and to see her sucking the (albeit impressive) cock of a gangster in polyester pants and a silk shirt was disappointing and disheartening.

How could she lower herself?

This always made me have convoluted feelings, both sad, and I felt like Gemma was somehow victimized by this man, it made me also pity her, and touched an anger inside me. The anger was partially subtly at Gemma, but mostly at this sleazeball. I was a lover, never a fighter, but I wanted to punch him in his smug, bloated face over it.

Now after coming to terms with those feelings and what they meant, topped with this new solicitation, things became obvious. It was clear Big D was scared of the competition and wanted to stamp it out.

He was a spiteful and vengeful creep, and he probably had a thing regarding Gemma, mostly business but it was also personal.

If I accepted his offer, it would make me the second executive chef he stole from Gemma. I didn't want to be that guy, and I didn't like Big D. Nor would I work for him.

Knowing all of this, I had to handle things carefully.

"Well, I must say, Big D, that I'm flattered by your offer, but I'm the executive chef at Gemma's and it would be hard to go back to being a line cook. Not that your place is a step down as a restaurant, it's a step down in position."

It was as if he expected that, and he was prepared.

"What is it, kid? The money?"

"No, not at all."

"Because I can pay ya. I'll pay at least what she's giving ya, who knows? Even better, maybe."

"It's a career thing, Big D, please don't take this personal."

This seemed to infuriate him. His nostrils flared and his skin turned a reddish hue, like a switch was flipped somewhere in his brain and he was now a raging monster.

"Did I take it personal when you all flat left me at "The Catch?" His eyes bulged as if something squeezed his head and they would pop free under the stress. "That fucking bitch may have some decent business now, but it ain't gonna last, kid. You say it's a career thing, she and her fucking place may not be there some day. Gotta play it safe, go with the undisputed champ of restaurants, kid, go with "The Catch of the Day." We been in business since 1920, and we ain't going anywhere."

Attempting to defuse this I said, "You are the gold standard, D, you and "The Catch." You have signature dishes and recipes that bring everyone in. I'm living off your overflow at "The Bistro." We are successful because you are. We catch the drippings. That being said, and no disrespect to you, but I'm the executive chef. I need to be creative and have to grow. I have more freedom to make my own way as far as recipes and specials go. Your customers wouldn't want me changing things."

My effort was not appreciated , Big D flew in to a white-hot rant, yelling and gesturing wildly. He stepped into my personal space and wagged his finger at me and ranted on. "Are you fuckin alright, kid? Creative? That cunt stole my blueprint and my staff, now you wanna rob all the business. Everything she knows, she knows because of me! Creative! You stole every dish and recipe I had. Things my grandfather brought here from the old country. And don't forget who gave you your first job when everyone else would only hire you as a busboy."

"D, no disrespect, I am flattered. Really, I am, but I think I want to stay put for now." Internally I really began to hate him even more, I wanted to hurt him and make him bleed. Burning with a white- hot anger I'm sure I never felt before, my hands balled into fists involuntarily. I didn't know where this was coming from' this was not me. Not being a violent person, I was not sure punching him in his fat face was the best course of action. Big D was obnoxious, no doubt, but it was no longer annoyance; it became more of the a hate that I harbored for him. The feeling was disproportionate, or was it?

Then it came to me: Gemma, it was about Gemma. It was jealousy; it was how he used her like a whore, how he somehow got her to suck his cock, the way he sullied her image for me. I began to view Gemma as a victim, and I wanted to somehow get even for her, I wanted to get her honor back. You have to understand the young, sheltered man that I was . You have to take into account where I was in my development as a man. Now, with my evolving brain and broadened horizons I was able to dissect and understand myself and my feelings a little better in this very conversation with Big D. I was able to talk and analyze my thoughts and emotions at the same time. I owed it to the versatility of being a chef . I multitasked so often that everything I did was an organized ballet of thought and introspection.

In the middle of all of this I had to ask myself why I was so obsessed with Gemma.

I popped back to reality and countered Big D's condescending remark with one of my own, unaware of the trouble this would cause for me. "Yeah. I owe it all to you. D. All my talent, all my ideas, everything. But I'm still not coming to work for you, now I gotta go. Have a good one." With those words, I ended my discussion with Big D and walked away from him.

"We all gotta live with our decisions, kid, hope you can live with yours!" Big D said in a cryptic tough guy way.

"Well, maybe I better sleep on it. This is all very sudden." I tried to sound reasonable even though I was just kicking it down the road. Immediately I feel like a coward, I had chickened out. I had given in, I let him intimidate me.

He must have smelled the fear. He smiled, not his phony smile but an evil, satisfied smile. "Well, let me know tomorrow," he sneered and added, "And I don't take disappointment well, and I like being jerked around even less, so don't fuck around and dodge me."

That was gangster speak for "I'll give you until tomorrow to say yes, or else." And just like that the good feeling was gone again. So, it seemed that it was all about business and revenge on Gemma. That in itself was stressing enough. My mind started to work overtime now.

Gia could really make this worse. She was bitter to this day, divided by her anger at me, and yet I knew she still harbored feelings for me. Gia was crazy for me but also very jealous and possessive.

She'd been so overbearing that I had to break it off. It was hard to do; I felt bad for her but she was stalking every moment of my life and interfering in everything. She wanted the fairytale princess story she thought to be her birthright. She had it all planned out and anything she saw as a deviation from it was a threat, and she would attack that threat.

It was fucked up. Her conservative ways were a product of the old neighborhood. She was trying to live up to a unrealistic moral code that had its roots in the Roman Catholic dogma that was woven into the fabric of the old neighborhood.

Yet Gia was horny as fuck. She must have had many moments of (unnecessary) self loathing, for she was taught (as I was) that her instinctive desires were BAD, even evil. Her wants and her accepted life path were in complete opposition. She would rub and grope my crotch but claimed to have never touched herself. One night after she kissed and groped me through 90 percent of a movie I had paid good money for us to see, I walked her through a dark and secluded park behind a closed skating rink.

The late hour of night pretty much guaranteed it was deserted. In the darkness, we sat and kissed on a park bench. I made certain nobody was around. I worked my hand way down to her pussy, caressing the soft mound of flesh through her stretch jeans. When she was really worked up I slid my hand inside her pants. I found her body slightly resistant to me but she never stopped me. My hand found the warm, squishy wetness of her twat, and I manipulated my fingers and massaged her clit, every so often slipping a finger inside her wet cunt.

I masturbated her until she came. Her body convulsed and spasmed. I felt her feeling both joy and fear-fear of this new, unknown experience. It was her first orgasm ever, or so she claimed. Once she caught her breath she asked, "Wha, wha what just happened?" I was not sure if this was an act or not.

So I just played along.

"You had an orgasm," I whispered to her.

"What?"

"I made you come, didn't it feel good?"

"Oh, oh yes, it was. Oh my God, it was so so good. So that is what coming feels like?"

At first I thought she was being overly dramatic, but I began to think that she was telling the truth about never touching herself. I took my hand (three fingers water logged with her vaginal fluid) and undid my pants. My raging hard cock burst free. I placed her hand on it. Gia, hesitant at first, grabbed my cock so firm and hard I thought she might rip it off.