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With everything going on I really shouldn't be thinking with my cock but fuck— Carmy has filled out and the longer hair is working. Plus, Sydney is a total babe, except for the part where she hates me, in which case, she’s like every woman I’ve ever met that I’m not related to.
Anyway, I’m not fucked up enough to make a pass but Jesus I have my limits, alright? I can look, can’t I?
Nothing is ever going to happen except in the perfect world where Syd goes into the walk-in to do something other than scream. But, since we are on the subject she could totally scream—I mean, I wouldn't have a problem at all if she wanted to.
Like, in the scenario where she’s at the restaurant super early— fuuuck, no– Carmy always beats everyone there. Okay, so, it’s lunch rush but damn if Syd isn’t always pissed right before lunch as if people are going to riot over getting peppers on their Sausage and Peppers—no peppers. It’s in the fucking name for fuck’s sake! Just give them fries on the house and send them on their fucking way!
Nah, it would have to happen in the magical 10 minutes where everyone else is busy but the restaurant isn’t busy … or maybe they're all prepping family and no one needs anything from the walk-in—yeah that sounds right.
Syd would have been throwing me looks all day that aren’t the sour, pissed off looks she normally throws at me and I wouldn't have needed a xan that day so I could, in fact, get it up.
Go with me, here— It's a magical kind of 70-degree-and-sunny kind of day where Sydney wears a cute little dress or something to go with the sexy looks she’s throwing at me over the register. She pulls me into the walk-in, holding on to my belt loops (I’m going to wear real pants if she’s wearing a dress) and I know exactly what she wants and I know it’s going to be a special day because her braids would be down to her waist and wavy, and she’d have gloss on her lips, and wouldn't smell like the kitchen. So, Syd pulls me into the walk-in, right? And, I’m already like half hard because this is my fantasy and my dick takes no time at all even though it’s cold. This is good because I can see her nipples through her dress and I’ll reach out to squeeze her tits and she’ll hang her head back and moan and fuck yeah that’s where it gets real good. Cause, see, the dress has those straps, those thin fucking whatsit—spaghetti straps and she ain’t got no fucking bra on so she can just slip those right off and and instantly she’s half fucking naked.
Now, obviously, I can do anything like bend down to pick her up without tweaking my back and she’ll wrap those legs around me and I’ll put her on the shelf which will be empty and—
Okay, fuck.
First, the shelf’s gotta be empty and also there’s a fucking, like, uh—heated blanket or something, shit. I don't know—we’ll throw the blanket down (don’t you dare ask where it’s plugged in) and she’ll have one hand down my pants, easy and I’ll push her panties to the side and we’ll both be screaming and moaning in the walk-in which was conveniently sound proofed in an earlier fantasy. She’ll be so fucking tight saying Richie Richie Yes Fuck Yeah and I’ll fucking suck on her neck and shoulder—kiss her real deep and pull on her braids and no one will even bitch about it and we’ll both come and yeah. Fucking good shit, right?
Now, despite Carmy’s fucking slander, I’m not a fucking perv and, in any case, Syd is unhinged. Plus, I only date grown women who know their way around a cock like mine and can compliment a good sports coat, okay.
Since we’re on the subject of my dear Carmen— fantastically speaking, Carmy could get it.
Like, if Syd was too busy making love to her own superiority complex or something and Carmy wanted to put his cigarette out and give me a look that would be totally cool. I could roll with it.
I’ve experimented, capisce?
Like, if me and Carmy are smoking outside and, we can be real— there are no neon lights in back of the Original Beef of Chicagoland, but say the lighting in my fucking mind’s eye is neon-ish and moody and bouncing off of Carmy’s shoulders, like, would I go for it? Yeah? I’d get my dick wet.
Sue me.
Say it’s summer— like, fucking 90-degrees-even-when-the-sun-sets-summer and it doesn’t smell like ass outside and Carmy is wearing a tank top because it’s my fucking fantasy. He’s really showing off those shoulders and he’s spitting mad, like always, over some pretentious bullshit and maybe we’re arguing out back and he’s gotta get up on his fucking toes and I’m looking down at the top of his righteous little head while he’s yelling Cousin Cousin over and over.
All it takes is a little lean and then we’re kissing, like, wet fucking nasty trying to eat each other— hot shit. We’re grinding against each other all sweaty and frantic like we need it (hell yeah we do) and okay we’re outside, yeah but there’s a real nice rolled up towel on the ground to protect Carmy’s knees because who knows what the fuck is on the ground— even in my dreams.
Anyway, Carmy sinks down to his knees and he’s got my dick in his mouth taking it like a champ. Me, I’m fucking, like, leaning over him just fucking his face gripping his shoulders and he’s such a fucking show off just because he has nothing better to do than go to the gym. But, I don't mind because he doesn’t have a gag reflex. Even-steven. This is nice, too, because I can finally fuck his face and shut him up and not feel bad because he would love it. He would also come untouched.
As a bonus.
Because my cock would be that good—is.
You tell me you would fucking turn that down. Granted, he hasn't offered but still, there’s a green light there.
I got this other one, the real good one where Syd and Carmy call me into the office one night. Like, I’m walking by and I hear Syd say Richie could you come in here in a voice from like Sharon Stone in—it doesn’t matter. Fucking everyone else has fucked off to like, watch a movie or whatever the fuck and the three of us are in there working hard like the brilliant adults we are. We’re chain-smoking, laughing, throwing away receipts or something, I don't know.
Obviously, the office has a couch— has to. And, we laugh and it's quiet after— a little too quiet. We’re all just looking at each other grinning like we’re stupid, happy, and horny, and the energy shifts, because I fucking said so.
Syd and Carmy are still in their aprons and—okay, no, maybe the aprons are already off but they’re loose limber and relaxed. Maybe we’re doing shots of the Fernet I keep in my locker and it does the trick. I mean, fuck, then we’re instantly naked and Syd is lying on the couch that doesn’t exist fingering herself— legs wide open. Meanwhile, I got Carmy’s cock in my mouth (I said I experimented didn't I? Sucking cock is not a big fucking deal, anyway), drooling around it, licking around his balls, sucking on—
On the other hand, it gets dicey so maybe Carmy is lying back on the couch and Syd is sitting on his face and she’s grinding down and moaning he’s just lapping it up, buried in her pussy from nose to fucking chin. She’s got her hands on her tits, fucking playing with her nipples looking right at me. And, I’m looking right back at her, running my hands up and down my body feeling how I get real sensitive all over and she’s looking at my cock and at me back and forth, sick fucking smile that could kill me. I can feel Carmy flex under me and he can’t see jack shit with a face full of pussy but I know he knows how fucking hot it is. I got his dick teasing my hole, I mean, at that point I’m gonna want it so bad — just the tip, okay, fuck off. Carmy is playing with my dick too, fucking finally multitasking.
That’s great, not enough because this is my fucking show and I gotta teach these fucks how it’s done. See, I got Syd bouncing on my cock and she’s saying Yeah Richie Richie, and I’m kissing over her body, everywhere I can reach, telling her she’s riding it so good baby, so good. Carmy’s got his hand on his dick fucking learning something—waiting his turn. I mean, they probably still fuck around in the back of cars and I got almost 30 years of fucking and one kid under my belt. Results speak for themselves.
Anyway, I reach out to touch him real sweet cause I can see how bad he wants it. I got my fingers in his mouth feeling around and he’s trying to suck on them, show me how good he can be. And, he’s in there too and we’re all in it together, hot and tight, lips and the fucking squeeze—In the end, you know, well, I’m usually busy doing other things ah hem to finish this one, you know how it goes.
Yeah, that would be fucking sick, though, right?
I mean I'm open to it, is all I’m saying. If the opportunity should arise. I got a game plan. I’m not fucking… gonna get carried away or something I’m just saying I got a good imagination—
Also not saying I’ve jacked off to them or anything— sheesh. Mind your fucking business—who the fuck is asking?