Confessions of a [M] private chef (pt. 3) – Long- Recipe at the end

Thanks again for the positive feedback! I really enjoy writing these. I only have a few left up my sleeve because, unfortunately, there isn’t an infinite amount of rich pussy being thrown my way while on the job. Some are short, memorable, fun to read, and don’t always involve sex (flirting, suggestive convo/risqué occurrences), but just aren’t worthy of an entire post. I will, however, write a separate, single post with some of the more interesting encounters in the future.

As before, none of these post are related by any other denominator other than they all happen as a direct result of my profession as a private chef. I.e., you don’t have to know anything about parts 1 or 2 to read this story.

My typical clients, either for full-time, part-time, seasonal, or per-event basis are 40+. They’re established in their careers, professionals, and just rich as fuck. I live in a diverse area so they come from all different backgrounds (profession and heritage, which is nice). Their wealth can stem from something boring like an owner of a successful regional jewelry store, or more exciting to me like owners of a modern art museum or a music producer. Of course, even my typical clients get wild from time to time, but mostly it’s very tame and everywhere in between.
Occasionally, I’ll get a call from younger clients looking to throw birthday parties, anniversaries, etc. They range from 25-mid/late 30’s. These events are usually the fun ones. There’s more energy, better music, they’re more interested in what I’m doing and I’m usually invited to hang out afterward. I don’t have many younger clients because I charge a shit-ton of cash per person for an evening, and the younger demographic can’t typically throw down like it’s nothing.
However, I’m investing in their earned future business so the margins really don’t matter to me when I do an event almost for free. Especially if I’m able to have more fun while being there.

This was such the case when I met Taylor at a birthday party for a mutual acquaintance. Our acquaintance, Alex, was a gay man who worked at Gucci and had a lot of female friends attending his 35th birthday party. JJ (who, by the way, is a fuuuuuucking hot, tall, brunette woman with brown eyes and a mole just above her lip) is his best friend planning the entire event for him. We would meet up, call, text, etc. during the weeks prior to plan the event. Honestly, I thought there was a chance for us to hook up because we would casually flirt. I’d lose track of our party planning and imagine her sucking my cock right there in the coffee shop. Looking up at me with her dark eyes, lips around my head, and her licking me like a popsicle. But alas, that remained a fantasy. Anyway…onto Taylor.

Admittedly, I got a little too fancy for the crowd with a longer tasting menu. They would get up, do some shots, sit back down, blast music, and smoke a lot of weed. My server, a certified sommelier (fancy name for someone who *officially* knows a lot about wine), was excellent with her wine pairings and was having a good time. We decided to make light of the evening because everyone was stoned or drunk by dessert. If the salad dressing from the previous post didn’t get you laid (?) the chocolate mousse recipe at the bottom definitely will.

I had a massive headache by the end of dinner and while they cleared the dining tables for a dance floor, I snuck off down the hall to the bathroom to find some Tylenol. It was a little further down than I thought and as I was waking back, JJ and Taylor were standing talking.

JJ: “oh it’s you! I was wondering who was back there.”

Me: “sorry for trespassing, but was actually looking for some Asprin.”

As JJ turns to her bedroom Taylor was standing there in a low, V-cut, skin-tight black dress and black heels (the theme of the party was to dress to impress in black or white). A simple, gold pendent necklace hung just above her perky, small handful-sized, 23-year-old tits that were lifted, separated, and looking fantastic by all universal standards. Over her shoulders she wore an elegant, but simple coat with a fur lapel and hood.

Taylor: “dinner was great, by the way. How long have you been cooking?”

Her voice was soft, her skin smooth and her hair a dark red. She is THE epitome of the beautiful girl next door. Innocent, but definitely knows she’s 10. Her lips were glossy, but wore minimal makeup. I knew she was there with her boyfriend, but didn’t really care of course. I was dreaming of fucking JJ in her white dress.

Me: “Thank you, I’m glad you enjoyed it. For about 12/13 years now! Some in restaurants some, private.”

Taylor: “Oh cool!” I cold tell she wasn’t that interested, but just making conversation while JJ stepped out and we waited. “The wine pairings were excellent. My stepdad owns the wine shop downtown.”

Me: “No way! I love that place. He’s the only person I bought wine from in college, like 7 years ago. I actually applied for a job there, but didn’t get it. Is Tony still there?”

Taylor: “Yeah! I picked up the magnum of champagne we had tonight from there. Gosh, I must have been like 15 then. Yep, Tony is still there!”

We both lit up having something in common.
JJ came back with some pain reliever and stripped naked right then and there and asked me to fuck her. Kidding!!! I think I fantasized that too…
Actually, JJ went back to dancing while Taylor and I stayed in the hallway chatting.

It was easy for me to pass back and forth between the group she was hanging out with with her boyfriend because they convened by the fireplace next to the kitchen as I cleaned and loaded crates into my car. From then on we could feel chemistry and I KNEW she could feel me undress her with my eyes the rest off the night as we shot glances at each other. I didn’t care if her boyfriend noticed or not. If I’m with a girl, I don’t mind guys checking her out as long as she doesn’t mind. It usually gets us both worked up. Especially when she notices other women give me the once-over.

After I made the kitchen sparkle (I always leave it in better condition than when I found it), JJ made me a cocktail and I hung out in the back yard with her and a few other people. We smoked a little and JJ and her friend got a little crazy. Just showing off with little lap dances and pecks here and there; I was enjoying the view. Out walks Taylor looking like $1,000,000. She sits down next to me and starts to talk about the wine again. I feel like it was an excuse to make conversation this time. Then JJ says, “Evan, can we pour champagne into your mouth?” Totally caught off guard I say sure.

JJ stands up and walks toward me as the small group around the fire pit is watching.

JJ: “Taylor, pull his hair and tilt his head back.”

Taylor laughs and is a little hesitant, but grabs the hair on the back of my head. Really working her fingers into my longer hair at the time, she yanks my head back and JJ tilts the bottle of bubbles into my mouth. Of course, she pours too much and it overflows but it’s was fun.

Taylor smirks and says, “hmm. I enjoyed that more than I thought I would. ?”

JJ commands the group to the dance floor and since I’m WAY too cool to dance I make my exit. Knowing very well JJ and I won’t fuck tonight, I now have a hard on for Taylor and can’t get her out of my mind for the next week or two.

Now, I’m not one to weasel my way into someone’s DM’s on Instagram, but this was literally the only way I could think of to make contact with Taylor that was “innocent” enough. I couldn’t ask Alex or JJ without being self conscious that they would question my motives since she was taken.

I find her, request to follow, and message her, “I think the government is spying on me because I’m drinking an amazing white Bordeaux AND all of a sudden, you show up as a suggested account to follow.” Total bullshit, but again, I didn’t care if I convinced her or not that this was by chance.

Taylor writes, “that’s funny because I love white Bordeaux and the government listens to everything we say ?”

I know, I know this sounds snobby…

Me: “at least the they know I have good taste ?”

Small talk ensues until I go for it. “You’re in &@“?!*, right? I’m in $?£%#+. If you’re around swing by for a glass.” Knowing that there was a 1 in a million chance she would accept the offer even if she was home, nothing to do, and wanting to leave the house.

The stars aligned.

Taylor: “Sure! What’s your address? And can I bring a red?”

Me: “123 fake street. And I will definitely take a rain check on that red. I have a dinner event tomorrow and have to cook tonight.”

Taylor: “Deal!”

An hour or so later my buzzer rings and I greet Taylor at the door. She’s wearing a plain v-neck white t-shirt that’s kind of baggy and tucked just in the front of her torn jeans as the back drapes over her petite, toned ass. I swear she could have been a supermodel and was definitely the hottest woman I’ve ever been with. Her red hair was messy and flowy with one side tucked behind her cute little ears revealing a diamond-stud earring.

Taylor: “I brought the red anyway.”

I close the door in her face and reopen it. We both laugh and I lead her into my loft.

Taylor: “This is where you live?!”

Me: “Yeah, I needed a place that was open enough to host dinners and cook out of too. Plus my landlords are great.”

I will admit I had the coolest loft around. A restored warehouse from the late 1800’s outfitted with my cooking equipment, prep tables, a beautiful range, and a room dedicated to pot, pans, etc. PLUS a little nook with a couch surrounded by a library of cookbooks.

Taylor: “it smells so good. What are you making?”

Me: “Well, there’s about a million things cooking right now, but you’re smelling the ginger, garlic, and onions on the stove,” I say as I reach for the white Bordeaux, pour her a glass, and hand it to her.

Taylor and I meet eyes and hold contact, “Cheers, she says softly. *Clink*

Me: “I hope you don’t mind that I cook while we sip and talk.”

She gets a little flirty: “oh pleeeease. It feels a little naughty. Like I’m seeing what goes on behind the scenes!”

Me: “it’s really not that glamorous because I’m usually sleep deprived and doing dishes half the time.”

We chat about food, wine, travel, Alex’s birthday party, I slip in that I have a crush on JJ, and just random stuff over the next couple of hours or so.
She opens the bottle of red pours only herself a glass. Taylor makes her way over to the nook, sits on the couch, pulls a cookbook from the shelf and sits on the couch.
She crosses her legs, leans over and rests her forearm on the cushion as she flips the pages. I glance over and it was truly a sight to behold. The light on her curves, a glass of wine in front of her…I’m literally getting turned on writing about this now.

As I’m at the stove she struts to my prep table with the book in hand, puts it on the counter, points to a recipe and asks, “What’s ‘à la ficelle’ mean?”

Me: “it essentially means, ‘on a string’. You tie beef on a string and boil it with vegetables. It’s on a string so you can pull it out of the pot easily.”

Taylor: “how did it get so lucky?” She says, or something cheesy like that.

Me: “Huh?”

Taylor: “the beef. How come it’s the only one that gets to be tied up?”

Bold.

I walk over and look at the recipe. “I can teach you.”

I untie my apron strings, take it off, and put it around her neck.

I grab the long waist ties and hold them in front of her. “First you want to make a loop with this one, wrap the other around, and pull it through. Now you have a slipknot. If I want to tighten it, all I have to do is yank on this string.”

Taylor looks at me: “oh!”

I tighten it juuuust a little harder than I should have so it would jolt her a bit.

Me: “then you bring it around the back…turn around…” The back of her neck looks so kissable and I feel my cock getting stiff. “…and go over and under until the whole piece is tied.” I tighten the apron string and she moves back into me.

Her back to my chest, her ass against my waist, she looks over her left shoulder and says, “and then what?”

I the tips of my fingers on my left hand I reach to her chin to gently pull her face over her should more. Simultaneously, my right hand touches her waist and slides to the front of her toned abs just below her belly button with my fingers spread apart.

We start to make out deeply. After a few seconds she turns around to face me. There we are standing in my kitchen that’s smells like delicious roasted meats and stewed sauces. Her in my apron, I have to stand back and take it in. She does a little curtsy and I grab the dangling string and pull her in.

Me: “happy now that you’re the one tied up?”

Taylor: “haha, yes.” She squeaks before we go back to making out.

My hands run up and down her back, over her perfect ass and on the back of her thighs while one of her hands is on my chest and the other on my waste.

I pick her up by bracing her behind her thighs and drop her on the prep table so she’s in a seated position facing me while I stand in front her. She was about 5’6” and petite and for some reason I had an urge to throw her around. I was so into her tits that I liked to see them jiggle when I was a little rough with her.

Taylor: “do you have to remove the string before you eat it?” She says, referring to the recipe in the book.

Me: “it helps.” I smile.

She leans back a little with her arms behind her. Elbows locked. She spreads her legs.

An invitation to come forth and untie the apron.
To me, it’s SO hot when a woman almost commands I eat her out. I’m not sure if I mentioned this in previous posts, but I LOVE eating pussy. If you’re shaved and well hydrated, I will spend all day down there ????

I remove the apron, kiss her lips, her neck, her chest, and pull back as I unbutton her jeans. They’re tight so we laugh how much of a struggle it is to get them off. My hands grasp each of her thighs just above her knees and explore the full length of her inner and outer thighs before I make my way to her pussy. She’s making soft moans and throwing her hair from side to side.

I remove her silky, navy blue panties, and run two fingers over the outside of her pussy before I make my tongue wide and lick her lips from top to bottom.

Taylor lets out a long, but sensually soft “ohhh fuuck,” and grabs the back of my head, fingers clenching my hair and keeps her hand there as I flick her clit back and forth with the tip my tongue.

I come up for air and say, “the last time your hand was on the back of my head JJ was pouring champagne in my mouth.”

She lets out a laugh and I interrupt it by inserting two fingers into her soaking wet pussy and dive back into her clit with my tongue.

It went something like, “Hahah—-uhhh yes. Right there. Fuck.”

She’s squirming so much that she’s practically riding my face as my chin and lips are glossy with her juices. A few squirms later and I can feel her pussy contract around my fingers and mouth. Did I mention I love making women cum before we fuck?

She yanks me up, grabs either side of my cheeks and we kiss. SO hot that she’s tasting her pussy in my mouth. I pull her shirt and bra off in one motion. She takes off mine, swings her knees up onto the prep table, undoes my pants and whips out my rock hard dick.

After a few strokes she crouches over as if she’s in a prayer position facing Mecca, and wraps her mouth around my thick cock. Her tongue is soft but she holds my shaft tight as she jacks me off and licks my dick. I run my nails down her back, reach for her hair this time and pull her head back forcefully.

She swings herself back around to sit up in the same position she was in while I ate her pussy. With both hands on her soft tits, she pinches her tiny nipples, puts her feet up on the table with her knees in the air, and I move in as if my cock were a dousing rod for her hole.

The very tip of my head barely even touched her warm lips before she wrapped her legs around me and pulled me inside of her. Sliding into her was almost too easy. She was so fucking wet I almost couldn’t feel her the first couple of seconds, but I began to rhythmically move my hips.

Making one half of a figure-8 as her pussy took all of my cock on the way in, and the other half of the figure-8 as I draw my dick out.
After a few minutes (who knows?) like this she throws her arms around my neck and pulls me in. Not to kiss but, her cheek on the side of my face, sitting up only supported by her latching onto me. I bury my face into her neck and am intoxicated by her smell. I nibble and kiss and she moans. I’d be lying if I didn’t reveal thinking to myself “I could get used to this”

Taylor: “mmm gimme that dick.” She says through her breath.

Me: “I love watching myself going in and out of you”

I grabbed the base of my cock and pull it out of her. Without saying a word to each other, she turns over and rests her forearms on the prep table.

Admittedly, I burned a tomato sauce on the stove and there was no recovering from that. I ran and switched off the burner as I hear her laughing hysterically, but also waiting to be fucked from behind.

On my way to her I grab the apron she was wearing from the floor with one hand, get behind her, and she swings her hair over again to turn and face me. Her eyes close as I more aggressively fuck her from behind. She pushes her hips back into me as I thrust forward to feel all of me go as deep inside her and as hard as possible.

I grab one of her wrists as she stands up a little. I bundle up the apron and wrap it around one wrist, then grab her other wrist and bind them together. Holding the apron tight with both wrists behind her back she leans forward with all her weight as I continue fuck her perfect pink pussy.

Me: “mmm I’m going to cum!”

Taylor: “cum for me Evan!”

I pull out and she collapses to her chest on the table, head resting on its side, bent over straight-legged with feet on the floor, and I cum on her ass and back. She looks so hot leaning there helpless and fucked with my cum on her. I walk away and leave her there.

Taylor had a way of making the slutty things she did say sound so classy and poised, “I can’t believe I just slept with a chef!”

Like I was a thing she could cross off her list and tell her friends a story…which was even hotter.

A couple of years later she’s still with her boyfriend and I never fucked JJ or Taylor again. But I did enjoy cumming to pictures of them both while I wrote this…

RECIPE TIME
Chocolate mousse – you’ll need a scale for this recipe and if you don’t have one, go get one. You’ll thank me later.

170 grams good chocolate 62% cocoa
170g salted butter
170g sugar
100g egg yolks
200g egg whites

Chop the chocolate and melt in a double broiler with the butter until just melted. Don’t let it get too hot.
Bring to room temp and incorporate the yolks with a rubber spatula
Whip the whites with the sugar until fluffy and sugar has dissolved. Carefully fold into the chocolate mixture.
At this point you can chill it in the fridge for 6-8 hours or freeze and enjoy frozen.

USE GOOD CHOCOLATE!

Thank you,

Chef

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/jkjdgr/confessions_of_a_m_private_chef_pt_3_long_recipe