JValdez

Forum Veteran
Joined
Oct 10, 2010
Messages
1,143
Location
en route
Tomburgers

© JValdez 2011

Chef John was at a loss; the foodservice delivery had inadvertently omitted ground meat from the latest shipment; Wednesday’s were always burger days; and now at 17:45 on Tuesday evening he was becoming a bit panicky. “Hey Chef”, Tom called out as he pushed chairs on top of tables in the cafeteria; “Hey Tom”, Chef John called back; they had a great working relationship; Chef depended on Tom for a lot of things; his schedule allowed him to check in early, attend classes, and then help wrap up at the end of the day, when he really needed it; Tom had stuck with him through thick and thin, holidays, inclement weather, transport strikes; they were a tight team. Tom made his way past the steam tables, past the grills, pots, huge knives, forks, spoons, fridges and other equipment that helped make this facility a jewel in the university system, and an award-winner state and nation-wide; he saw Chef slumped in his office chair, staring at his display. “Uh Tom, we might have a problem”, he started; “What do you mean, a problem?” Tom asked; he knew Chef wasn’t a drama artist so something must be serious. Chef reached into his lower desk drawer, pulled out his bottle of Johnny Walker® Red, set two tumblers on the desk, filled each one about a quarter full, and offered one to Tom. “You know tomorrow is UburgerDay™; we have no fresh meat in-house—the assholes at central deleted it from today’s shipment!” he spat; Tom replied “Uh Oh”; he was aware that tomorrow a photo shoot was scheduled by seattle© magazine; his girlfriend, Shelia, an intern, had worked with him on the logistics; she had advised that her photographer intern, Mike, “If he’s in the mood for it”, might possibly show up, otherwise, they had backups; Tom sensed more than a little anxiety in Chef John’s mood; he put his hand on Chef’s hairy, tanned, brawny arm; looked into his eyes and said “Let’s work out that tension first “; Chef gulped the contents of his tumbler, took Tom’s head his hands and deep kissed him; tongues intertwined, hands crept to erotic homes; the two ended up on the floor, passionately making out as if they were schoolboys.

Tom and Chef normally didn’t share the core of their relationship outside work; each considered himself nominally “straight”; Chef an ex-marine, and Tom from a military family; what had started as an accident one late cold winter night had blossomed into a full-fledged, scintillating, ultra-hot affair; Tom barely made classes on time; he was always early to work . . . when Tom fucked Shelia, he envisioned Chef; Shelia always came hard, but confided to her best girlfriend that she thought he was a “an animal and liked it best rough”; her group of girlfriends nicknamed him “toro”; Shelia’s texts burned up her best friend’s iPhone whenever he had performed especially well; tonight she fondled herself absent-mindedly while performing the final review of tomorrow’s shoot on her MacBook Air; she im’d Mike to make sure he wouldn’t blow her off; his “Ya” typically laconic response mildly irritated her, she thought “He needs a good fuck”, as a blush spread from her lower abdomen up through her face; her mouth watered as the first wave of orgasms flooded her tight, hot body; “Ya, baby, fuck this!” she whispered to herself; her iPhone flashed with new messages.

Chef and Tom now had their mouths on each other’s hard cocks; they loved to 69 and spent hours at it; Chef’s fat, long cock in contrast to Tom’s slimmer but just as hard piece of meat; Tom groaned as Chef took his hard cock into his throat up to the hilt; Chef growled as Tom gagged but managed to do the same with his. “Mmmmm!” Tom grunted, “Yeah” Chef answered; they both felt the simultaneous waves of hot cum dumping in their throats; two flushed heads being skull-fucked, two sets of balls so tight against their cock’s shafts, pumping, pumping, pumping. Torsos jerked, hands grabbed tightly on cocks and balls; heat rose from the two men’s bodies as they relaxed after cumming so hard. Now curled up like babies, they nuzzled each other’s chests and kissed deeply, exchanging cum. Chef’s meaty middle finger found it’s way into Tom’s tight ass; Tom groaned and shoved his ass up against Chef’s groin like a bitch in heat; Chef picked up his muscular young body and took him into the stainless-steel lined pantry; he threw Tom on a bench he had moved there just for tonight; Tom’s mouth couldn’t get enough of Chef’s tongue, over and over he kissed, tongue-fucked, and kissed; Chef manoeuvred his body under Toms’ so Tom was with his back to Chef; Chef grabbed his head and gave him one of the hottest, deepest kisses he had every given Tom while inserting his engorged cock into Tom’s tight ass; Tom’s eyes brightened with the prospect of a good hot fuck.
 
Tomburgers

la deuxième partie


Their bodies fell into treasured rhythms; Tom’s open mouth was an exercise in eroticism, tongue out, lips full, flushed, eyes rolled up into his head; Chef’s massive hairy torso sweating, pressing itself into Tom’s smooth muscular form; both men arched; cum flew from Tom’s cock onto the stainless wall; Chef’s load coursed it’s way into Tom’s ass; suddenly he wrapped a thin, sharp wire around Tom’s pulsing, sweating neck and pulled. Hard. Tom’s eyes bulged, his mouth open in shock; his cock still pumping hot cum; Chef pulled tighter as the wire pierced Tom’s skin, sliced through his trachea, his mouth open in mid sentence: “Chef, what the fu—“; severed veins, arteries; smashed through Tom’s tough spinal cord; his stump spurted, pumped and flooded the room with his hot, bright red blood; Chef held his head and kissed it deeply; Tom’s eyes were wide with lust and shock, staring at Chef.

Chef continued to fuck the headless, muscular pumping body; it’s arms fell to it’s sides as Chef unloaded again in it’s tight ass; he set the head down on the bench and pulled out of the ass; he buried his head in the stump and drank deeply of the hot blood of his lover; tears coursed down his cheeks as he kissed the beheaded form from top to bottom, turning it over and extracting his own cum from it’s ass; he sat down on the bench, sobbing, as Tom’s stump dripped blood off the end of the bench; he once again held up the head and looked into it’s eyes, still open in shock; he stayed that way for what seemed forever, taking in the last look of that face he adored so much.

Chef stopped sobbing and shaking; a hardened look of purpose had taken over his face; he wiped his face with his apron, discarded it and donned a rubber one; he lifted the decapitated young body and deposited it on a long stainless work table; he tied it’s feet to an overhead rack so it drained into channels built into the table; he retrieved the head and punched it down on a spike designed for holding meat; it was meat. The table was equipped with hoses to rinse meat; he began rinsing by inserting the hose into it’s stump and freeing detritus from it; bits of red and white cum drained out; he lowered the body and expertly started shaving every inch as if he was experienced at such an operation; in fact, Xe’s troops had never lacked fresh meat, even under the most difficult of circumstances . . . he grabbed the largest butcher knife and began the task of separating the legs and thighs from the torso; beads of sweat popped out on his forehead and forearms as he grunted, pulled and struggled to get the legs out of their sockets; finally, with a huge sucking “pop”, the left leg was free; the right leg was even more difficult, but at last gave way; the arms were a piece of cake after that; he inserted the butcher knife inside the now hairfree pits, pulled up with all his strength, freed the left arm, repeated the procedure with the right arm; he took a swig of the Johnny Walker® Red, grabbed the cock and balls, chopped them off with one stroke and set them under the head, it’s eyes still staring forward, in shock. A knock on the service entrance and a familiar voice interrupted his concentration; “Hey Chef, everything cool?”, asked the night guard Christopher, he was familiar with Chef’s late night preps; “Yeah, Chris, may be here awhile tonight” he answered; Chris continued on to the biology department. Chef inserted a gutting knife at the genital stump, pulled upward, and helped channel the viscera to a waiting bin on the floor; he pulled out and reserved the liver, kidneys, heart, and one lung; the rest went into the bin; his efforts now took on a new urgency as he realized it was past midnight; he patted the head, kissed it’s cheek, and began carving meat from it’s back, breast, and ribs; as he worked he rinsed each stack and threw it into a prep bin. He pushed the torso over to join the head and genitals, it stood like a macabre guard over it’s own dismantlement; the arms were butchered next, meat flying from upper arms and forearms to the bin, the hands were stacked separately for disposal in the industrial unit; he mopped his brow as sweat poured off his hairy muscular body; the thighs and legs were stripped of all meat, feet joined the hands; he took special care in breaking down the white young bones for disposal; the huge motor spun to life as bones and offal were pulverized and sent down the sewer; the torso was broken into four sections and joined the rest.

Chef smacked his lips as he moved the prep bin to the grinder; calfmeat was fed in first; it extruded perfectly, it’s young firm texture a perfect match for the blades; he mixed bits of heart and lung with other parts; finally everything was infused with red wine, Worcester sauce, spices, salt and pepper; a bit of liver balanced the sweet taste of minced Tommeat. Chef pushed the exotic, erotic mixture to his pride and joy, the ultra-high btu grill; his hands shook as he formed the first Tomburger and flung it on, it immediately started to sizzle; he activated the extractor; a sweet smoky aroma wafted from the facility to nearby rooms; Mike awoke, heart beating fast; “oh my god!”, he thought, his mouth watered, his cock became unbearably hard; it spurted a load of hot sticky cum that Mike eagerly lapped up, then falling asleep once more to visions of well-browned humeat . . .

Shelia looked anxiously at the display of food items stacked artistically, including freshly-baked breads; “That skinny little fuck, where is he?’, she said under her breath; just then Mike skipped in with his camera and some lights; “Hey Mike!” Shelia called out “Hey”, Mike replied; Chef John met both and shook their hands; “Where can we start?” Shelia asked, Chef John said, “Why not right here—I’ve been working another special recipe I think you’ll like; here’s a sample”, he gave each a slider of Tommeat; Shelia bit in and was stunned; “My God, that’s the best I’ve ever had!” she beamed, Mike held his, inhaled the aroma, and then to everyone’s shock, devoured it whole, “Mmm!” was his only comment as it was forced down his lean muscular neck. His cock was suddenly hard again. Shelia’s face was flushed, she could have sworn it felt like she was cumming . . . Mike and Shelia worked the display, creating the best spread seattle© magazine had ever had for UburgerDay™; the kitchen bustled with workers readying the lunchtime trade; the grills were full of Tommeat; the sound of sizzling meat and sweet aroma enticed Mike and Shelia; Chef John excused himself and returned to his crew, the doors were flung open to the cafeteria.

Shelia and Mike were first through line, loading up on Tomburgers; each (even Mike!) waved to friends and told them of the excellent new addition to UburgerDay™; soon the line was packed with mouths watering over today’s treat; a happy ravenous din bounced from wall to wall of the dining facility; Mike’s tight jeans were stained in the groin area; Shelia was having difficulty staying seated; she was cumming over and over again; her best friend Tina took a look at Shelia and grinned; she too was over-enjoying her Tomburger; Mike innocently asked the table “anyone seen Tom?”; “Shelia perked up and replied, You know, I think he’s close, but it feels like he’s right here”; Mike responded, “Ya”, matched Shelia’s grin and took another bite.

Chef John surveyed the dining room, debris everywhere; UburgerDay™ had been a complete and total success; he returned to his office and the little fridge under his desk; he took something out and kissed it; then put it back in the fridge; the service door rang as the first applicant for help arrived; Chef opened the door and grinned from ear to ear; “Jose” stood there, face to face, tight shirt barely disguising his incredibly muscular torso; his dark brown eyes sparkled as he extended his hand; Chef glanced down at his tight muscular ass; looked Jose straight in the eyes and said “You’ll do, let’s get to work” . . .
 
Great story J. Full of passion and flavor! I can tell from your description of the joint dissection that you have experience. Nice
 
Thanx headsman! It's always that last pull/grunt that makes it worthwhile (among other things :) )
 
Terrific story!
 
Back
Top