“A pleasure to see you again Mr De Marco.”, oozed the matre’d.
“Miguel”, replied Marco with a nod. Marco was “A list”, no “A+ list”. The Spaniard knew this and tolerated the obnoxious star because of the photographers loitering outside his doors. On leaving a dozen shutters would chatter capturing “Marc De Marco leaving the famed San Juan’s restaurant”. One day, when his films began to flop and lenses pointed elsewhere he would not find it so easy to leapfrog the three month waiting list for a table.
Miguel escorted Marco to the best table in the house and called over the head waitress. “No” interrupted Marco “I want her”. He pointed out a dark haired girl, around twenty five years of age, latin in appearance. “You want Tierra, she’s only just joined us, maybe …” Miguel knew what an asshole Marco could be.
“I want Tierra to serve me”
And that was that. Tierra attended to Marco. She ignored his leering down her cleavage, staring at her ass. She even managed not to flinch when his hand “accidentally” brushed against her stocking clad leg. She was polite, smiled and served him without feeling the need to drop anything hot on the little shit’s lap. Miguel was impressed, she’d be getting a bonus in her wages.
Towards the end of the main course Tierra returned to the table to ensure Marco was enjoying his meal. He beckoned her closer. She leant in, quiet words were exchanged. He got up and headed for the rest room. Moments later she followed.
Marco checked all four stalls, empty. He waited for the waitress to enter and indicated the stall furthest from the door.
When locked inside Marco immediately grabbed her and pushed his tongue between her lips. She grabbed his head with such enthusiasms that for a moment Marco was stunned. But only for a moment, hey, he was Marco de Marco woman adored him.
Frantic oral play was soon accompanied by hands exploring and groping. Her boobs were false, about a D, so what, real ones are over-rated he thought. Her hands were wrestling with his belt and flies. Suddenly he felt her fingers delving into his underwear. His cock was liberated from its fabric prison. He cursed the tight skirt she wore, sexy but making it impossible for him to reach inside and find her pussy. It tantalised him with the outline of her suspenders under his fingers.
Still locked in a kiss her fingers worked his member. She dropped to her knees and licked his swollen end. Marco was so turned on, you could have knocked nails into a four-by-two with it. He held her head as she gorged herself fully on his erect sex. Her fingernails dug into his exposed buttocks, pulling him into her.
Marco considered coming in the little cock whore’s throat, but instead he asked “You wanna fuck?”
“Oh, yes. So very, very much.”
Tierra hitched up her skirt, revealing her stocking tops and black suspenders. Marco licked his lips in anticipation, a sneer of a smile spreading across his face.
Tierra pulled her underwear to on side. Marco’s face drained of colour as he found himself staring down at an erection as big as his that had sprung from between Tierra’s legs.
“Oh yes. I do so want to fuck you Marco” smiled Tierra.
“Holy, fuck!” shouted Marco bending forward to pull up his boxers and trousers from around his ankles. His head perilously close to Tierra’s throbbing penis.
There was a flash from above them, then another. An enraged Marco, still fastening his trousers, emerged from the stall to be confronted by another flash from the paparazzi’s camera. A beautiful picture, Marco in the foreground with Tierra behind, cock waving from under her skirt.
Marco was transfixed, but only for a moment. “I’ll fucking kill you. You bastard.”
“You still want to fuck Mr De Marco?”, asked Tierra.