Date: Wed, 15 Feb 2017 12:14:33 -0500
From: Natty <bacteriaburger@gmail.com>
Subject: Cooked

Originally published in Slave Boys (Bruno Gmunder).

Cooked
by Natty Soltesz

It was one of the head cooks who started calling him Sweet Sammy, just
cause of his smile and how soft-spoken and kind he was.

"He's the type," Adrian said. We were watching Sammy through the little
window in the door that led to the kitchen. "Please," he continued, like
I'd disagreed with him. "Get a couple beers in him, get him away from her,"
he said, motioning to Sammy's girlfriend who was in the back too, having
just run Sammy the cigarettes he'd left at home. "He would so get down with
a dude. Lay back, let you suck his dick. Can you imagine him saying no, if
you asked?" I let Adrian get close to my ear. "It's probably a real fatty,
too. Bet he'd moan like crazy when you licked his balls. And he'd really
squeal when you tongued down to his–"

"Boys." Monica, our manager, had poked her head around the wall of the
server's station. "Wanna get to those four tops sometime tonight?" She
tapped her manicured fingernails on the pasteboard wall, gave us an ironic
smile. "I mean, it's not like dinner rush or anything." I started filling
water glasses.

I watched Sammy's girlfriend leave out the back door. Adrian took the
glasses I'd filled and put them on a tray. "Trust me, I've seduced so many
straight guys. It's those nice ones, those sweet ones, they love blowjobs.
It's like manna from heaven. But you better get to it before I do..."

"Fuck off, Adrian," I said, rolling my eyes. I took the tray from his hand
and went off to take orders.

Adrian and dated for a few weeks when I started working at Mediterranean
Grill, until I realized what an asshole he was. Since then I didn't take
him very seriously, but I had to wonder if he had the read on Sammy. Mostly
because Sammy was all I could fantasize about since he started working at
the restaurant a month ago. He was insanely cute, short and thick with a
barrel chest and powerful arms, tattooed all over. It was that smile that
was a killer, though. He had such an unassuming confidence about him, such
a winning personality that he'd become sort of the restaurant mascot.

He seemed like the kind of guy I needed. Especially in the wake of what had
happened with Adrian, which had hurt me pretty badly.

A few months went by and my attraction to Sammy only grew. Then he broke up
with his girlfriend, which was a pretty big deal around the kitchen. He
broke down crying right in the middle of dinner shift. Apparently she'd
dumped him for a friend. I found all this out when it got back to me as
rumors do in the hothouse, concentrated-small-town environment of a
restaurant. I figured this was it, this was my chance, but I wasn't all
that adept at seduction, never had been, and how could I try to make a move
on Sammy when he was hurting?

Then came the night from hell, where we had a constant rush from the moment
we opened our doors at four up until we caught both a concert and a
football game that let out at seven. We were there until well past
midnight, and at some point it wound up being just me and Sammy and Monica,
Sammy in the back mopping up the kitchen while Monica and I tried to make
the dining room look like a tidal wave hadn't just swept over the place.

I don't smoke, normally, but I needed a cigarette, so I bummed one off
Monica and went into the back to puff, and Sammy came out and joined me. We
didn't say much to each other at first, just leaned against the wall next
to the Dumpster, enjoying the quiet and still of a late-summer night.

"How much did you make tonight?" Sammy asked.

"Over three hundred bucks," I said.

"Fuck," Sammy said, impressed. "You should take me out for a drink."

"A drink sounds about perfect right now," I said.

So we finished up and let Monica lock up and walked around the corner to
Union, where we took seats at the bar next to each other. It was a little
awkward at first — I'd never really hung out with Sammy, and my sexual
attraction to him was getting the better of me. But one beer turned into
two and then three, and by then I was loosened up and just enjoying his
company, laughing about restaurant stuff, stupid customers, and our maniac
head cook who liked to storm out right in the middle of a rush only to come
back five minutes later, which he'd done twice that night.

"I see Adrian got the fuck out of there quick tonight," Sammy said.

"Yeah, and every night," I said. "You couldn't get that guy to do
post-shift work if you stapled his nuts to the chopping block."

"I doubt he's the type who'd be into that," Sammy said, glancing at me from
the side of his eye. I laughed.

"No, he's not," I said.

"Oh you guys dated, right," Sammy said.

"Yeah for all of three weeks. He'd barely let me do anything to him, would
scream every time I so much as touched near his ass," I said. "Sorry, TMI,
probably." Sammy shook his head, took a drag off his cigarette.

"Nah, that's what I figured. I hate that type, people who can't give up
control, those ones who are always playing a game."

"That's him," I said.

"It takes a real man to back off, let somebody else drive, you know?" Sammy
said.

"Yeah," I said...and got lost in my thoughts because Sammy was looking at
me like he'd never had before.

"I've been so fucking horny since I broke up with Trisha," he said, running
his hand over his head so that his tattooed bicep in his ratty t-shirt
bulged.

"That sucks," I said.

"Yeah," Sammy said, still staring at me. My heart started to race. "It's
cool. I've got discerning tastes; I don't go for just anybody."

"Yeah I'm kind of the same way. I mean, Adrian was like my one mistake, but
I forgive myself."

"That's good, no sense punishing yourself," Sammy said. He punched out his
cigarette. We both had about half a beer left. "Damn I should be exhausted
but I'm not."

"I know," I said.

"I've got more beer back at my place. Some tequila, too. Wanna come by and
hang out for a while?"

Nothing was said about sex, which made it almost hotter as we got in
Sammy's little five-speed Honda and headed to his neighborhood, Sammy
switching gears with his big paw and turning up metal music that was
blaring out of his stereo speakers. I thought something was going to happen
— in retrospect it was obvious — but at the time I didn't know for
sure, and as a result my stomach was doing flip-flops and my cock was
half-hard and leaking. We had the windows open and Sammy would look over at
me occasionally and smile, one hand on the gear shift and one on the
steering wheel, his ball cap sitting snugly over his round head, and an
implacable smile on his face.

He lived in a house he owned, a little place on a quiet street. It was
cute, unassumingly so, just like him. He unlocked the door and his dog ran
up to him, dancing wildly, snorting my legs and crotch and licking my hand.

Sammy got us two beers. We cracked them open in the kitchen. I sucked a few
gulps down. When I looked at Sammy, he'd drank half of his. He set it on
the counter.

"So Jimmy," he said.

"Yeah?"

"You know I didn't just bring you here to hang out, right?" He had one hand
on the counter and his other hand was poised at his side. He was still
staring at me in that hungry way, and maybe it sounds stupid but I suddenly
got scared. Like I wondered if he was going to try to murder me.

"You didn't?" I said.

"Don't be naive. I see the way you look at me," he said. I opened my mouth
to say something but no words came out. "Take another drink of your beer,"
he said, and without thinking I did so.

"You think I'm cute, right?" he said. I smiled a little.

"Yeah," I said, shrugging.

"It's okay, I know," he said, and a bit of the old Sweet Sammy came shining
through in his crinkled-up eyes and teddy-bear grin. "There's something
about you," he said. "I don't usually get with boys, but I've always
thought you were pretty sexy."

"Cool," I said. My heart was beating like crazy. Here was the straight
crush of my dreams, telling me he thought I was sexy. Adrian was right all
along, I thought, but that didn't feel exactly right. It was pretty obvious
that this wasn't going to be a situation where he got hopelessly drunk and
let me suck his cock while he covered his eyes and pretended I was Ariana
Grande, or whoever it is straight guys fantasize about these days.

"So take off your clothes," he said. Still with one hand on the counter and
one hand at his side, looking at me with an even, confident gaze.

"What?"

"Strip," he said. "I want to see your body."

"Are you going to?" I said.

"Maybe," he said. "Don't worry about that. Just do what I tell you and
we'll have a real good time, okay?"

"Okay," I said.

"Go ahead and drink the rest of that beer first," he said, catching me
eyeing the bottle. I gulped it down. "Now, strip."

I kicked off my shoes. Was I going to go through with this? What if he was
trying to set me up, to humiliate me? Just to see how far I would follow
his instructions? It didn't seem like something Sammy would do but I was
just realizing how very little I knew about him.

I took my socks off too, then went for my shirt, lifting it above my
head. I know I've got a hot little bod, smooth and muscular like a twink in
an Eastern European porno, and the way Sammy grinned through the side of
his mouth put me at ease.

I stood there in my underwear for a second, little, tight short-type briefs
that I knew hugged my butt and crotch well. Sammy was waiting, so I took a
deep breath and took those down too. My cock, which had been getting hard
ever since he'd made his demand, quickly rose up a to a full-on throbbing
bone. I shirked my underwear off my feet and stood there before him,
totally nude.

I wished I was a little cleaner but I was glad that I'd trimmed my pubes
just the night before. Sammy looked me up and down approvingly. To be
honest it was a little humiliating, standing there naked before him and
completely turned on. I felt so exposed to his gaze, but there was
something so thrilling about the fact that he knew exactly what he was
doing to me and was utterly in control.

"Look at how hard you are," he said, coming over to me. He wrapped his hand
around my cock and gave it a couple of strokes. "Like granite." He cupped
my balls in his hand, squeezed them just tightly enough so that it wasn't
exactly comfortable or painful. "You like being told what to do?"

"I think so," I said. That made him laugh. "I never really did this
before."

"Well, let's find out," Sammy said. He ran his hand up my smooth side. It
tickled and I recoiled but he didn't stop. His hands went all over me —
my chest and neck and across my face. "You are so cute. Girly in a
way. I've wanted to fuck you ever since I first laid eyes on you in that
place," he said as his hands dipped down my back. He turned me around and
knelt, cupping my calves and running his hands up to my ass where his
fingers probed inside. He tapped one finger against my hole. "Damn, smooth
and tight, just how I like it."

I felt like a piece of meat he was manipulating, showing off to some
potential customer. "You gonna be mine tonight, Jimmy? Do whatever I ask?"
he said, grabbing my balls in one of his hands and grabbing my ass cheek in
the other. His face was right against mine. He smelled like dank sweat and
kitchen grime — a not wholly unpleasant smell, it must be said.

"I'll try."

"There's no trying," he said, grabbing my balls a little harder. "Either
you will or you won't."

"I will," I said.

"You will what?" he said, his lips grazing the side of my neck.

"I'll do whatever you ask. Sir."

"Good boy," he said, and with his fingers grasped my chin and pulled my
face to his. Next thing I knew his tongue was in my mouth. I was in some
sort of heaven, I thought, being manipulated and turned on by this sexy
guy. Never in my wildest dreams had I imagined I'd be making out with Sammy
in his bedroom, kissing him like his girlfriend had kissed him.

He broke off from me and laid both of his hands on my shoulders. "To your
knees," he said. I knelt on his plush carpet. Sammy brought his crotch to
my face, a healthy, packed bulge in the dark grey chino cut-offs he wore to
work almost every day. I pushed my face into it, wanting to smell him, feel
him against my lips, but Sammy took hold of the top of my head and pushed
me back. "Uh-uh," he said, and tipped my chin up so that I was looking at
him. "You don't move unless I tell you to, understood?"

"Yes sir," I said. He took his fingers off my chin. "Just look at it now,"
he said. "Look at what you've been craving for the past four months. How
many times have you gazed at this crotch and wished you could see what was
inside? Every night?"

"Yes, every night."

"Well, tonight's your night," he said.

He held my face at bay while I stared at his crotch. I had gazed at that
delicious bulge before. Fantasizing about what might lay behind it had
gotten me through many a night at work.

"Get a little closer," he said. "Smell it." I took a deep whiff. Sammy's
crotch exuded a dank, sweaty, undoubtedly masculine aroma that made my cock
pulse and leak out juice in my underwear. "Smell good?"

"Yes sir."

"What's it smell like?"

"Sweat."

"You're gonna lick all that sweat off me, aren't you? Clean the sweat from
my balls, suck it off them and swallow it down?"

"Yes sir." He let go of my chin.

"Alright, you can press your face into it. Just your face, though — no
touching." I immediately shoved my nose and mouth into his bulge. Now I
could feel it, thick and coiled in his underwear. I could feel the heat
coming off it, the dampness of it, too. "I love a good cocksucker," Sammy
said. "Are you good?"

"I think so," I said, looking up at him. Sammy grinned.

"I think so, too. As long as you're my cocksucker we'll be good."

"Okay."

"Say you're my cocksucker."

"I'm your cocksucker, sir."

"Good boy," he said, taking the back of my head and shoving my face into
his crotch. My head swam with the smell of him. "Look at how hard you
are. You're gonna love being my cocksucker, aren't you? My own personal
faggot. Damn, look at your ass." He knelt down and ran his hand across my
smooth back, his finger riding the groove of my spine right into the cleft
of my smooth ass. He pressed a finger to my hole. I felt his cock pulse
against my face. I guess that's when I knew I was going to get fucked by
this guy. I hadn't been fucked in over a year — not since Adrian, in
fact — but it suddenly felt like the one thing I'd been missing in my
life.

"Alright," he said, standing upright. He pushed my head away from his
crotch, forcefully so that I careened backward and had to put a hand on the
floor to keep myself upright. "Ready to see it?" he said, staring in my
eyes as he unbuttoned his shorts. "Ready to see what's been making your
mouth water all this time?"

I nodded, yes. He took his shorts down. Even the sight of his underwear
– striped boxer briefs, tight around his thick thighs, hair cascading
over the top of his waistband, his dick thick as a tube of toothpaste
filling out the front, made me swoon. He lowered the waistband, slowly
revealing his cock until it bounded out, hanging there, bouncing in front
of my face. At the base of it, around his meaty, hairy balls, was a thick
metal cock ring. That was a surprise. He'd apparently been wearing it the
whole shift. His cock was somewhere between soft and hard and the ring gave
it this swelled and heavy appearance, pushed out from his body by the ring
in a way that made it seem intimidating and hefty.

His cock was as thick as him and in some ways exactly like I imagined it to
be, the head chunky with a deep piss slit. Already there was a drop of
precum coming off the tip. I wanted to taste it so badly that I just stuck
out my tongue and lapped it up. "Hey," Sammy said, pushing my face away but
it was too late. I rolled that thick drop of salty straight-boy precum on
my tongue.

Next thing I knew I felt a sharp slap across my face. It was a shock. "Did
I tell you you could fucking lick my cock yet, cocksucker?" I was
speechless. I'd never been slapped like that before. I felt bewildered by
it, abused, but at the same time it turned me on. I looked up at him,
cradling my cheek in my hand, the hurt and pain in my eyes clearly. Sammy
could see that I wasn't that hurt though, and I could see, behind his eyes,
that we were on the same page. He was driving this car, that was for sure,
but I was most definitely along for the ride.

"Did I?" he said again.

"No sir."

"Don't fucking do anything unless I tell you to do it. Got it?"

"Yes sir."

"Good. My cum's a precious thing, I don't give that to just any faggot,
understand?"

He had me lick his feet. His toes were hairy and his feet weren't entirely
clean. He had kind of hobbit feet, thick gnarly toes but they were pretty
in a way. I couldn't believe what I was doing, crouched low on the ground
licking the tops of his feet until he lifted them up and I sucked on his
toes, getting my tongue deep into the grooves of the spaces between them,
then licking down his arch to his heel and back up again. My cock was
completely hard, sticking out like a dart from my crotch, my ass bent and
completely open. Occasionally he would slip his hand down my back and feel
my hole.

He let me lick his balls next, which were gamey and sour but smelled and
tasted like the essence of him, so I slurped them right up. I got both in
my mouth and I could tell he was impressed, moaning deeply with this sexy
boom of a voice. Finally I got to take his gorgeous cock in my mouth. He
only let me lick it first, only tongue no lips, so I tasted all over his
salty shaft. When another drop of his precum oozed out the tip I looked up
at him.

"Tell me how much you want my cum, cocksucker."

"I want it so badly, sir. I'm hungry for it. If I could only eat your cum
for the rest of my life I'd be happy." I think I impressed him with my
subservience. Honestly I was impressing myself. It was like Sammy had seen
and brought out this side of myself that I hadn't even realized existed.

"Okay, faggot. Go for it. But just get it on your tongue, don't swallow
it. Keep your tongue out," he said as I licked it off. He leaned down and
brought my face to his. His tongue went for mine and we shared his precum,
our tongues writhing into one another. His lips locked on mine and we were
making out. Fuck that turned me on.

I stood with him and we kissed some more. His hand went right to my ass. I
braced myself, hands on his shoulders as he roughly felt up my ass,
pressing his hand into my crack, fingers going for my hole as he kissed me
deeply. He broke apart and looked at me. "Let's go into my bedroom," he
said.

His bedroom was an extension of him. There were punk rock posters all over
his walls, clothes on the floor. He reached under the bed and pulled out a
box. I saw him rifling through it, caught site of dildos and anal beads...a
whip...and then he pulled something out and held it toward me. It was
leather straps and metal rings. "Put this on," he said. I had to admit that
I didn't know how. "It's a harness," he said. "I used to wear it with one
of my old girlfriends. But I've thought about you wearing it for a while
now." He slipped it around shoulder and buckled me in. It went across my
chest and back and gave me an interesting feeling, the leather straps
confining in this comfortable way. When he grabbed the back of it and
shoved me down onto the bed, I got it. He'd harnessed me. I was even more
his, now.

Sammy positioned me on my back with my head over the edge of the bed. He
shoved his thick, hard meat past my lips and down my throat, without a lot
of regard to my comfort. I loved it, loved being a receptacle for his big
hetero fuck stick. His hips moved fluidly as he glided his cock between my
lips and down into my throat, over and over again, fucking my face into
submission. I choked a few times but eventually my throat was just open and
Sammy was just fucking it like a cunt, grasping the front of the harness in
his hand, his nuts slapping against my forehead. He shoved it deep, to the
hilt. I couldn't breathe; I was smothered in Sammy and I was loving it.

When he finally fucked me I was more than ready. He put me on all fours and
stood on the side of the bed. I heard him lubing up his cock and slipping
on a condom. He put some lube on my hole and without a word just pressed
his fat cock to my hole and slowly slid all the way inside. There was no
pausing, no waiting for me to adjust. He was sure and confident, his cock
stretching me out painfully. When he finally bottomed out in my ass he
paused and let out his breath, I did the same thing. Then he took hold of
the harness and started fucking me. I was his completely, he owned my ass
that night.

He knew it too. When he got me on my back and saw that my cock was totally
hard, he smiled. He got rough with me, fucking me on my back, punching his
fist into my chest and snarling in my face. When he slapped me across the
face again I was ready for it this time, I wanted it. I wanted to get
destroyed by him, raped, fucked into oblivion.

He fucked me all night, it seemed. At one point we drifted off together on
his bed, snuggled up a little, his cock still in my ass until it slipped
out. Then I woke up and started playing with his cock until it got hard and
when he woke up and saw what I was doing I could tell he was annoyed. He
rolled me over and fucked me again. He fucked me against his wall, holding
tight to the harness, using it to bang me like a bitch. I'd cum three times
by that point, always with his cock up my ass. He hadn't given me his nut
yet. In fact, he never did — well, not that night, anyway.

By the end of the night we had it down. We took a shower together and he
fucked me under the water. He was sweeter this time, I guess because we
were both exhausted.

"You like my cock in your ass?" he said at one point.

"Yeah Sweet..." I said, my sleep-deprived brain going for his kitchen
nickname before I realized what I was saying. Sammy laughed.

"Finish it," he said, his nuts slapping against my ass. He wrapped his hand
around my neck. "Say what you were going to say."

"Sammy," I said, laughing a little. "Sweet Sammy." The laughs came a little
more difficult as Sammy wrapped his hands around my neck, banging me harder
as he began to choke me.

"That's rich," Sammy said, tightening his hands around my neck so that my
breathing became constricted. "'Sweet Sammy'," he said. "I like that."


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