Graham the Nude Waiter

Graham the Nude Waiter ...
or Adventures in the New Ritz Poodle Dog Club

The whole fabric of human existence is that of domination and submission.
- Friedrich Nietzsche

This note, along with a fully nude picture of Graham, was slipped beneath Louisa's napkin on a previous visit to the Poodle Dog. You know the place, right? The New Ritz Poodle Dog Club was established in 1889 at its original location on Post Street. Of course, the club had been relocated off Castro and 20th Street, just three blocks from the Castro Theater, after the horrific 1906 earthquake.

The Club was an elegant, but genuine Victorian facade; the only sign of the business establishment within was a brass plate outside the wrought iron gate in Gothic script announcing The New Ritz Poodle Dog Club. Lou usually had dessert there, once or twice a year, with her two best girl-chums Janice and Nancy. She went there as a special treat to herself, perhaps as a reward for 'good' behavior or for having received particular kudos from her boss at City Hall.

Graham had been the waiter assigned to serve her and her girlfriends late one evening soon after the first of the year, and he was obviously intrigued by Louisa from the first moment he laid eyes on her. It was a mutual attraction the moment Louisa heard his gently chipped English ascent. She was a sucker for that reserved, upper crust British accent.

She had been in a rare pissy mood that night, impatient, cranky and overly demanding; on recollection Lou thought she might even have bordered on rude, she recalled with a shrug. Oh, well, her waiter had been like a puppy dog, begging for more abuse. Ready to lap up any slight or sarcastic remark she cared to dish out to him. Lou knew she aroused him, his cock thickening, though never reaching erection.

Besides giving him a worthy tip; Louisa had slipped him her personal card, with her name and e-mail address on it, and the on-line IM server she frequented. She did not know if she would be hearing from him, but she had sincerely hoped that she might. His demeanor and his gorgeous blond locks intrigued her. But so had his long bullet shaped, uncircumcised phallus. His cock was rather unique, as if there was no helmet at all. The long shaft was nearly uniformly the same width all the way up to where it abruptly curved in the smooth point tipped by his rather prominent slit.

A detailed and appropriately subservient e-mail was waiting for Lou the very next morning, when she had booted up her computer. He was not only charming, handsome, gorgeous, well hung (boy, did Lou ever have the eyewitness evidence to appreciate that), but he was witty and cleaver and amazingly articulate about himself and his nasty little sexual urges.

Through his e-mail, Graham immediately offered himself in total submission as her slut boy. It was a goal he had been craving for some time and Lou was his natural dominator. He recognized her as such. It would certainly explain his particular choice of employment venues, would it not?

Then in March, Louisa's resistance to his charms faltering; she broke down and returned to The Club to let him serve her again. She did not forewarn him, but she had been very sure to make her reservation for a table at his station. He did not show the least surprise when the maitre'd escorted her to one of his tables. Their eyes flirted and devoured each other in that moment.

His last IM chat invaded Louisa's thoughts as he personally served her:

"My Lady, regarding our situation? I am aroused constantly. I am loving every minute of my job. How many shy girls and gay men come into my club, that I should finally come across My Lady is a true blessing. A dream come true. And you know just where my dreams take me."

"I love talking dirty to you and I hope you are enjoying it as much as I am."

"If I feel uncomfortable I will let you know. I truly love all the stuff you have mentioned and I would be willing to try pretty much anything. Anything. Try me. Please."

"I need to have my sexual parameters tested and pushed, I love sex and love it even more when others enjoy and take pleasure from it. I don't want a brief fling; I need development of my perverse fantasies and fetishes and have so much to give you in return."

He e-mailed Louisa a picture of his erect penis, which she kept in her pocketbook and slipped out for a peek during the business day. Yummy yum yum. He was uncircumcised, but extremely long and well formed, with a smooth torpedo shaped head. His pubic hair sparse as light skinned blonds often are, but not actually shaved. Dreams of his nude body never failed to arouse her titties. She could hardly wait to take him home for a 'play' date.

The New Ritz Poodle Dog Club was always called 'new' to distinguish it from the original 1889 establishment that had served it's elegant Victorian clientele of nouveau riche matrons and their pretentious daughters of the post-gold rush elite of feminine San Francisco society. güvenilir bahis

After the 1906 earthquake destroyed the original Ritz Poodle Dog and its well-heeled environs. The owners felt the city's moral would appreciate their decision to rebuild the tea salon. So, with the importation of great quantities of Tiffany glass lamps and wall sconces, copious quantities of purple and red French velvets to line the walls and hang over the eight high windows, the shipment of Waterford crystal to grace the tables and Lladro figurines from Iberia to inhabit the recessed alcoves; the new club was renovated and re-established on 20th Street in 1922 , WWI intervened on the original timetable.

The long re-established New Ritz Poodle Dog, with it's reputation for muted elegance had traveled the world over. But in these modern times the Poodle Dog had drifted into gentile poverty over the many generations since it's re-establishment after the first World War but had been dealt a virtual death blow by the social upheavals and class rebellions of the 1960s.

By the 1970s the once elegantly attired gande-dame was figuratively-speaking, a wheelchair-bound hag. In 1973 when Billy Bryant (yes, that Billy), the scion of the ship merchant Bryant family (yes, the family that Bryant Street is named for) chanced upon the old girl on her last financial legs. Billy had many fond memories of teas and scones, in the company of his beloved Mum and his three prissy sisters so many years before.

Billy saw the Poodle Dog through rose colored glasses (they matched his pink, button-down shirts and the white loafers that he much favored) and remembered the glamourous dressings; but Billy was always prone to... how shall one say it.. to create reality out of his own, personal fantasies.

So. The New Ritz Poodle Dog Club was renovated, to such perfection that Sunset Magazine sent a full crew to photograph the interiors, and was applauded on magazine covers when it was presented, in Billy's inimitable style, to the public in 1979. Billy's only regret? That the debut was missed by his old friend Harvey Milk, who had encouraged Billy to face all of life's challenges with a broad smile and a dab of Channel No. 19. You know, No. 19, the adventurous Channel.

In the newest New Ritz Poodle Dog Club, guests enter through a parquet foyer, draped in hanging swaths of purple velvet and lit by a magnificent 2500 piece crystal chandelier. Billy was of the philosophy "knock 'em on their ass" from the word "hello." The tuxedo-clad maitre'd stands still and accessing beside the candle-lit lectern, and every patron must pass his personal scrutiny.

With the maitre'd's approval, ladies and gentleman are escorted into the finery of the grand salon in all it crystal and velvet ostentation. The tables are covered in Irish linen, with linen napkins folded elegantly and resting in sterling napkin rings. Tiffany lamps lit but muted on every table.

But very soon a dignified waiter approaches to greet new guests. The waiters are all gorgeous at the Poodle Dog. They are, after all, interviewed and personally chosen by Master Billy. All are clad in a stiff, well-starched tux collar and crisp, ink black bow tie and well-starched cuffs, the old fashioned kind, with gold or silver cuff links, very often set with precious or semi-precious stones, and a long, perfectly folded linen towel draped over the left forearms. Their muscular bodys clearly displayed, this is generally the extent of the attire the waiters of the Poodle Dog wear.

Such was the eclectic mixture of a by-gone opulence and modern gay decadence blended with an erotic sensuality that the New Ritz Poodle Dog was known for in the City by the Bay. As the world changed, San Francisco maintained it classic facade, while below the surface one social experiment after another drifted through her Golden Gates and moved right on over its rolling hills like the fog that regularly blanketed the city. So it was that the New Ritz Poodle Dog Club with it elegant decor and their gorgeous, muscular nude waiters opened to a splashy controversy, but found continued success as a steady source of sensuous delight.

Louisa and Graham had a real date planned for Friday night. With great excitement their big night arrives. An hour before closing time, Louisa arrives alone for dessert. Graham serves her, his eyes only on her as he scurries about the elegantly appointed dark woods and hanging Tiffany glass in his large, well formed bare feet.

Graham slips her a small scroll he has personally written for her. Louisa is intrigued. The rolled parchment contains Graham's handwritten fantasy. He had already told her he loved the idea of his ass penetrated by a woman. His true inner body violated by her sweet smelling feminine touch.

THE SCROLL SAYS:

Prince Graham watches his gorgeous dark mistress, the Great Eastern Sultana herself; while his naked body is held suspended in midair by the male harem's largest and most trusted eunuchs. The türkçe bahis eastern lady drew a long gilded glove over her right hand. The gem encrusted leather reaches all the way to her elbow.

The whole glove gleams as if coated by a thick salve or unguent. The helpless harem Prince's blood heats with excitement. His cock thickens to its full length.

The mistress' eyes were childlike in their focus, her month irresistible as she smiles, the grace of her body as she approaches Prince Graham is entrancing. She gazes directly into the blue eyes of Prince Graham.

The Sultana moves her left hand to Graham's chest, her fingers curling in his chest hairs, her sharp fingernails grazing his hard, erect little nipples. Graham's eyes stare straight upward, seeing nothing. With the slick gloved hand the eastern mistress pushes slowly between Graham's open legs, two fingers gently penetrating his anus first. The eunuchs stare unabashedly at the defilement of their burden.

The gloved hand continued it's journey, slowly.

Prince Graham's voice grew hoarse, his breath came in rapid palpitations. His complexion darkened. All the fingers disappeared inside his anus, and the tiny, dark haired Royal beauty now seemed to work the whole hand into him.

It was decadent and delicious. It was what Graham yearned for. The eunuchs enjoyed the presentation.

Meanwhile his dearest mistress the Great Sultana only had eyes for Graham. She gazes at Graham's face twisted in pain and pleasure as her dainty little hand moved its way deep and deeper into his body. It was in beyond her wrist, Graham's limbs were frozen, ridged as he absorbs all the sensations assaulting his inner body. His long enormous cock hard as a saber. A long, whistling sigh passes through the tortured Prince's clinched teeth.

The mistress lifts the Prince's chin with the thumb of her free hand. She bents over until her face was very close to Graham's. In a long, tense silence she moves her right hand slightly more upward into Graham's ass, as the Prince seemed to swoon. His cock was stiff and still. Clear moisture leaks from the burning head in the tiniest droplets.

A tiny cry comes out of Prince Graham. A hoarse gasp escapes his lips, a sound that could have been a cry for mercy or prayer to the Gods.

The great eastern lady had what she wanted, his measure and his limitations. The mistress held him motionless, their lips nearly touching. She lowers her head and outlines his lips with the tip of her tongue. She parts his lips and inserts her tongue into his moist mouth, letting him suckle on her moist tongue. Through long seconds their kiss deepens. Then tears spill from Graham's eyes.

Very quickly, the mistress withdrew her fingers from his rectum and peels off the glove, casting it aside, as Graham hung in the grasp of the eunuchs, his head down, his face red and taunt.

So.. The scroll ended.

Phew Louisa rolled her eyes and a loud sigh escaped her lips. Perspiration beaded on Lou's upper lip and a single drop slowly rolls down her chest between her ample breasts. Wow What a creative imagination Graham had. She had heard how sedate and emotionally dry Englishmen were, but definitely NOT her Graham. He told Louisa he was up for anything and he sure might be.

Louisa sipped her sauvignon, Robert Mondovi wouldn't you know; until Graham appeared, still naked but off duty. Graham had wrapped a leather cock ring around his semi-erect cock and thick balls, he hands Lou the matching leash. Louisa does not hesitate. She bends down slightly to make contact with the naked genitals that she had coveted for over a month, and clips the leash onto the small metal ring directly below the buckle of the cock ring.

Louisa took the black velvet cape off his arm, draped it over his shoulders and wrapped it tightly around his naked body. She would like to drag him home through the streets fully naked. It would have been such a shocking and erotic sight. Not so much a naked man at midnight on the streets of San Francisco, but a nude straight man on the teeter of a woman! Oh, yeah, that was a bit novel even for the City-by-the-Bay. But it was Frisco, after all, so though it was the month of August, it was still damp and chilly at this time of the evening. The fog had rolled in off the Bay and the damp chill at 50 degrees F. Graham knew his thin English body would feel the 12 degrees centigrade.

Graham pulled the cape around himself, and Louisa took up the cock leash and they set off into the foggy night, along Castro heading up the hill. They walked past the darkened Hagen Daas Ice Cream Parlor and past Pickens' Flowers