Décolletage Server Pt. 01

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It was her first day. Well, it was three hours till her first day. Two hours and fifteen minutes until she had to leave for her first day. But three hours before it started.

Katie stood in the bathroom staring at the instructions printed on the embossed paper she had lain next to the sink: exfoliate, shave, moisturize, and spray enclosed scent lightly, but enough to be noticeable. It was the preparation routine for her new job as a décolletage server, which started in three hours. Well, two hours and fifty-five minutes.

She had known about this restaurant for years — everyone had. It was in the next city over and had a great reputation as being a little pricey, but well worth it for the taste and the service. Mainly older adults or younger married couples splurging on a great steak, and during Spring, a few special teenagers whose parents paid for the infamous prom dinner. She’d been twice — college ended almost two years ago, the dream job her degree prepared her for was long gone, and a retail salary was not conducive to $40 bottles of wine, much less pretentious cuisine.

But that changed when Jessica had come into the store, looking for a new bra and wanting to get fitted to make sure she was wearing the right size (Oprah says most women aren’t, she quoted). While pulling the measuring tape around Jessica’s perky breasts, Katie’s own triple d breasts kept bumping into Jessica’s waist.

“Your boobs are huge!” remarked Jessica.

Katie shrugged and nodded, very used to this flow of conversation. Her breasts had gone from nonexistent to a C cup overnight in seventh grade, garnering much attention from her classmates. By senior year, they had graduated to a double D, and during college, had finally topped out into the triples. Matched with a large backside and a size 16 waist, and Katie was an absolute dish for curve loving guys.

“Oh yes, I know,” said Katie while doing the math in her head. “You’re wearing a 36B right now, and I’d say that’s definitely the right size for you. What kind of bra are you looking for?”

“Something that makes them look huge — like yours!” exclaimed Jessica while reaching her hands out to shake Katie’s breasts. While very familiar with the questions about her bust, this was the first time Katie had dealt with a customer trying to touch them, and it took her a second to react, during which Jessica shimmied her breasts together.

“Aaaaah, thanks for the compliment, but you really shouldn’t do that,” said Katie, taking Jessica’s hands off and placing them back at their sides.

“You should let people play with them,” said Jessica unperturbed, “You could make a lot of money with those. That’s what I do.”

Katie stared just slightly open mouthed — had this girl just admitted to stripping? Or was it actually prostitution when you let guys touch you? Is there an in-between word? “I’m not a hooker, silly! Don’t look so startled! I’m a décolletage server.”

Fast forward forty-five minutes to Katie’s lunch break where Jessica had explained the entire world of décolletage serving. “See, everyone knows about the upstairs, where you go for Christmas parties or celebration dinners, but only the members know about the downstairs. For a special fee, members can dine downstairs with girls who serve the same food, but topless. And not just topless, if they want to touch you, they can. They can grab nipples or just stroke them, and sometimes there are guys who even want to suck on them.”

“So you just stand there at the table and let them suck on your tits while everyone is watching?” asked Katie incredulously.

“Well, I don’t. I might reach my hand down into my skirt and get off while he’s doing it. Free orgasm right? Actually, paid orgasm, cause when I do that my tips are normally higher. And it’s not weird people watching — they all paid the fee to be a VIP, and they can’t Betturkey bring guests, so everyone is there for the same thing.”

“How much money are you bringing in a night?”

“Well there’s the yearly fee that’s paid to the restaurant, and then each night they dine there’s a $50 tip automatically put on each table. Some girls just stand there while they touch you, so they only get the $50. With a good show…” she gave a naughty grin, “I’ve pulled in $700 off six tables in one night.” Katie thought for a second. “There’s an interview session tonight if you’re interested,” prompted Jessica.

After work, Katie did a quick freshening up and headed over to the restaurant, meeting Jessica in the parking lot. She flirted with everyone as she made her way into the restaurant, through the kitchen, into the office, into the hallway beyond the office, and finally arrived at a grand staircase. “They have a separate entrance, but we come in this way,” she explained. Down the staircase, through a stunningly rich dining room that echoed of English pubs and screamed of masculinity (and tastefully decorated with corners and angles that allotted some privacy), Katie and Jessica arrived at an office. “Katie, this is Duke — I told him all about you.”

Duke, the manager of the private dining portion of the restaurant, was an older, well built gentleman. Katie guessed mid to late forties, based on the slight flecks of grey in his facial hair. His ebony skin looked smooth and soft, and rippled over his arms that she could just slightly see under his t-shirt. He was wearing dress pants, and looked like he was preparing to begin his night of debauchery… or managing debauchery maybe. His eyes met Katie’s as he extended his hand, and surprisingly stayed there, despite the low cut top she was intentionally wearing. She was surprised.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said. “Jessica, thank you for bringing her. You can step outside, and please shut the door.” Jessica patted Katie’s shoulder in a friendly and reassuring manner, then sashayed out, closing the door behind her. “I prefer to conduct interviews privately, even though the nature of the job is anything but private,” said Duke smiling kindly. “It tends to make women a little more comfortable. Is that alright?” Katie nodded, not trusting her voice. It had been one thing to be brave while talking about it, but now that she was actually going to tell someone she could do it, she wasn’t sure her nerves were up to it. “Have you ever done anything exhibitionist-like before?” he asked.

Again she nodded. “Could you tell me about them?” he prompted.

“Um, yes. There are, um. There have been times that,” she said quickly, still stumbling to find her train of thought.

“Let me help,” said Duke. “I’ll ask if you’ve done something and you can tell me about it. Sound fair?” Katie nodded. “Alright, have you ever had sex in a public place?”

Swallowing bravely, Katie found her voice. “Yes. I’ve had sex on a car in my college parking lot, and a few times outdoors.”

“Good. Have you ever flashed someone?”

“Not intentionally,” she said laughing. “But there have been slip ups and boobs falling out or just a lot of cleavage, sometimes intentional.”

“Alright. Have you every masturbated in public?”

She blushed. “Yes, first year of college, in between classes, I was in my car and reading and needed to take care of myself, so I started fingering myself. I didn’t realize it but there was another student in the car in front of me and I didn’t know until I had finished and he got out of his car and smiled at me.”

“How did you feel doing that?” Duke asked.

“Embarrassed at first, but kinda hot afterwards.”

“Do you like the idea of men getting aroused looking at you?”

“Sure. I like knowing that men think I’m Betturkey Giriş attractive.”

“What about the idea of men getting obviously aroused looking at you, and then asking to touch you while they, to use your words, take care of themselves?”

“They actually jack off at the table?”

“This is a dining establishment, so not on the table or obviously, but some have the ability to be discreet and come prepared. Others also are not interested in making it to completion, but like the attention given to them while they are… entertained. So is that a problem?”

Katie thought. Could you actually let someone touch her while jacking off? She totally could in the bedroom — she was anything but a prude — but while his tablemates were watching? While other guests were watching? And then she thought of the times she’d answered the door for the pizza guy in no bra and a tank top, and had seen his eyes go straight to her nipples. She’d seen the bulge start in his pants, it had turned her on, and made her feel powerful. And she hadn’t stopped him. Instead, she’d pushed her boobs together, dropped the money on the ground, and bent over so he could have a nice view of her cleavage, with nipples hard against her shirt (cause maybe she’d played with them right before opening the door), fumbled with the bag he’d handed her so he tits swayed a little, and told him to have a nice day. “No. It’s not a problem,” she said confidently.

“Good. Let’s make sure. Take your top off.”

Slightly taken back, but then thinking to herself that it made obvious sense, Katie stood up and pulled her shirt off.

“Take your bra off, too.”

She obediently did as requested, then sat down as Duke motioned for her to sit.

“Let me lay the rules out. Diners are allowed to touch you, anywhere except for the panty area, front or back. You can give them permission and place their hands on you, or in you, but they can’t do that without you initiating. If one does, you press the call button on the belt clip we’ll give you, and security will be right there. As for everything else, they can touch your breasts, play with them, motorboat them, suck on them, bite them — not to the point of pain, but yea — dip your breast into their glass of wine and then suck it off, pretty much whatever goes, ok?” Duke asked. She nodded. “You can touch yourself, which Jessica loves and I’ll admit that Jessica’s repeat customers love, and you can touch them. A member can touch themselves, but cannot force you to touch them or even ask you to do so, but if you want to, you can. Ok?” Again, Katie nodded. “So let’s start. I’m gonna be your client. Treat me the way you would any guest. Excuse me, ma’am?”

“Yes sir?” asked Katie with a smile.

“I’d like another glass of wine.”

“I’ll be right back with that,” mimes walking away and handing him a glass, “Here you are sir.”

“Excellent,” said Duke taking a sip of his cup of water on the desk, and then plunging his cold mouth onto Katie’s right nipple. She gasped as his tongue swirled around and his mouth sucked hard against her breast. Instinctively she placed her hand around his head and pressed him tighter, her mind trying to remain clear from the neurons firing randomly in her head. Abruptly he stopped and said “Thank you. Ok, pause, how are you handling that?”

Katie cleared her throat while nodding. “I’m fine. It was — fine, fine, just fine.”

“Ok, let’s go again. Greet me as if it’s the first time at my table.”

Katie nodded and mentally tried to reset herself. “Good evening, sir. My name is Katie and I’ll be … oh lord what do I say?”

Duke laughed. “Taking care. You’ll be taking care of him.”

“Ok, sorry, got it. My name is Katie and I’ll be taking care of you this evening. May I get you started with a drink?”

“Yea, I’ll have a gin and tonic. Before you go, lean down a bit so I can check out those big tits of yours,” said Duke reaching up and pulling on her nipples. He started to tug on them and roll them in his fingers, thumbs flicking them upward and sending little shockwaves through her, waves that ended right at her pulsing clit. He released one but put both hands around her left breast and began massaging and squeezing it, then placed a hand back on the other and began to bounce them up and down and together so they jiggled in a delicious fashion. “Yea that’s a good spot for a big dick, right between those two tits. You ever been titty-fucked by a big dick, Katie?”

“Oh yes sir, I have,” answered Katie sweetly.

“You like getting titty-fucked by big dicks, don’t you?”

“Oh yes. Big dicks between my tits and close enough to my mouth to get a good taste.”

“You gonna let me titty-fuck you?”

“Let’s get your dinner started and we can come back to that later.”

Duke laughed. “Nice deflection. You’re gonna handle the wiry ones really nicely. Let’s do one more. You’ve just set my entrée on the table and ask if I need anything else.”

“Ok. Here you are sir, what else can I do for you?”

“Bend down so I can taste you while I take care of this.”

Katie looked down and sure enough, Duke had a massive erection winding its way down his thigh. She obediently leaned her breasts in to his face, close enough to feel his warm breath blow gently on her skin.

“Go ahead,” she whispered.

Duke unzipped his grey pants and pulled out an enormous, uncircumcised cock, and began stroking it. She had an overwhelming desire to put her hands or mouth on it, but remembered that she was at a job interview, not her bedroom. In her bedroom, this man would never have to stroke his own cock.

“Dick worship,” she thought. “That’s what something like that needs. It needs to be worshipped.”

But she waited, and after what felt like forever, Duke closed his eyes and put his mouth on her breast. Not just her nipple, though she could feel his teeth scraping against it and it was causing chaos in her brain and her stomach. He sucked, and bit, and with his hand that wasn’t stroking his cock he pulled on her other nipple, pinching it and tugging and squeezing her breast until she finally couldn’t stand it. She reached her hand inside her panties and found she was soaked. Her clit was slippery and when she got her fingers onto it she couldn’t help the moan she let out. Duke’s eyes opened at the sound and took on a mischievous glint when he saw how turned on she was, but his hand stayed on his cock. Her fingers circled her clit over and over and she wondered why he wouldn’t reach inside her panties and give her what she needed when she remember the rules.

“Give me your hand,” she said. His eyes snapped open and his hand left his cock instantly. “Finish me,” she whispered, one hand pressing his head into her breast.

Duke slid his hand into her panties, groaning slightly when he felt how ready she was. He pushed one finger inside her, then another, and finally a third while his thumb maintained a steady pressure on her clit, like he was trying to bring his fingers together inside her. All the while, his mouth never left her breast, keeping a steady torment up — there was nothing gentle about him. She could feel the burn starting, low in her stomach and building, seeming like it was lost and then coming back and repeating until she couldn’t control it. Her orgasm erupted over her body sending fire racing through her blood down to her legs and burning in her thighs as she rode his hand and pressed herself against him. She could feel herself dripping as he stroked a finger delicately inside her again, causing aftershocks of pleasure to pulse through her.

She felt bereft when he removed his fingers, and exhausted, as if she could barely stand. Somewhere in her mind, the years of customer service training kicked in and she asked “Is there anything else I can do for you sir?” noticing his erection was still as prominent as before.

“Yes,” smiled Duke. “You can start tomorrow.”

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