Penis Diner

Mary-Kate could scarcely control her excitement.  “They’ve opened a branch of Penis Diner at Northgate Mall!”

I looked up from my copy of Tiger Beat and sneered.  “It’s a glorified glory hole.  Don’t even fall for their bullshit, it’s just marketing.”

“Well, I’m going.  A whole bunch of us.  You can stay home and be Miss Prudery 1958 if you want, but I’m gonna get me some man juice.”  And she flounced out of the dorm room even as I struggled into my all-stars, grabbed a jacket and yelled “wait for me.”  I was still convinced it was all just smoke and mirrors, but hey, there’s not much to do in a  town like this except for hang out at the mall, and the opening of any new store was a bonus.  I might as well go take a look.

I don’t remember when I first heard about Penis Diner.  It started in the mid-west, I think, sometime after President McCarthy was impeached, and the country lurched into one of those moments of manic liberalization that always follow a few years of tough love government.  First one branch… I think it was in Kansas, but I may be wrong; then another, then a third.  Within a year, there were Penis Diners scattered throughout the heartland, and the first ones were popping up across the south.  An article I read projected that, by the end of the decade, they’d even have them on the coasts, although I doubted that,  There again, I never believed they’d be opening one in Texas, but here it was.  Yeah, I needed to see this.

Actually, you couldn’t miss it, because it was visible from half a mile away.  You know that Andy Warhol painting, the coke bottle with the straw, and the pair of lips at the top?  Imagine if the coke bottle was a cock. I knew that was their logo; what I didn’t know was that it was also their architecture  The cock rose about twice the height of any other building in the mall, and the lips at its tip were the brightest neon ruby you have ever seen.

“My God, just looking at it makes me so wet,” Liza squealed as we pulled up in the parking lot, and I eyed the line at the door.  “Looks like we’re not the only people here,” I grumbled, and Mary-Kate elbowed me in the ribs.  “Could you stop complaining for five minutes, please?”  She grinned.  “The more the merrier, I always say.”

In fact, the line moved a lot faster than I expected, and there was so much to look at while we waited that I barely even noticed the delay.

At a casual glance, it looks like any other diner, the same polished chrome fittings and formica tabletops, a jukebox pumping Elvis and Eddie in the corner, waitresses in matching candy-stripe uniforms.  And draped across every surface, a naked man.  Either having, or about to have, his cock sucked.

I looked up at the menu.  They had everything.  In more politically correct times than these, I’m sure some folk would have a field day complaining about it – chocolate, strawberry, lemon, vanilla, every flavor on the planet seemed to be represented, and every one accompanied by the photo of a man of the appropriate color.  Mary-Kate was already loudly debating between mocha and fudge, but Liza was squealing for orange, and one of the other girls was ambitiously considering an entire banana split.  I smiled.  “Three at once?  She’s a braver girl than me.”

Mary-Kate nodded.  “Have you decided what you’re having?”

“Probably just a medium vanilla.”  And then, “where do you think they get all the guys from?”  It was five years since men had been declared an endangered species and slapped with so many preservation orders that you needed half a dozen official permits to even speak with one; the handful that still lived in our town rarely even left their homes without half a dozen security guards ranged around them to ward off any unwelcome attentions.

“I heard they import them,” she replied, and nodded towards the “shop the world” signage that dominated one wall.  It was strange how every poster boy looked exactly like James Dean.  “Maybe I’ll try some Polish sausage.”

“The English looks good,” I murmured.  “But do you actually get one that looks like the picture?”  I’d been burned by that before; the seafood restaurant downtown displayed the more delicious-looking pictures of their manifold meals, but when you ordered it was hard to spot any similarity at all.  But talking of seafood… “the Jumbo Shrimp looks tempting, too.”

Mary-Kate giggled.  “Have you noticed how all the photos already have the mayo on the side?  But look over there…”  She inclined her head towards the nearest table, where a mousey-looking brunette was maybe halfway through her meal, eyes closed behind her horn-rims, and her mouth stretched to surely twice it’s normal size… (“she must have ordered the Whopper!” Mary-Kate giggled).  But not a drop of mayo in sight.  She’d have to do a little more munching before that arrived.

It was our turn to be seated, shepherded by a bored looking woman to where a waitress was still clearing off a recently vacated table, wiping down a few drops of spillage, and then gently helping the guy to his feet.  His soft, well-sucked cock looked almost comical and I wondered how long before he was back on the menu.  From the look of him, all fair hair and blue eyes, beefy build and muscular arms, I’d guess he was from the Home Style Country Kitchen menu, and from the way some of the other diners were eying him, I guessed a few of them wished they’d ordered him themselves.  The more exotic selections sounded delicious, but sometimes you just can’t beat some good old local fixings.

We sat, five of us around the table, and I flicked quickly through the menu.  The others were already placing their orders, and I admit I admired their daring.  Liza went for the egg roll with a sushi side, and I hoped for her sake that the man and woman in the photo would at least vaguely resemble her meal.  Her sister Suzy went for a Cosmopolitan, and I’d been tempted by that one – a smart looking gent in a well-tailored suit that you could really take your time unpeeling.  Charlene went for the French Toast, and Mary-Kate astonished us all by ordering the Coffee and Cream, while giggling, “I’ve always wondered if I could fit two in at once.”

Even the waitress laughed.  “The cream, maybe.  But not the coffee.  In fact I’ll be surprised if you even finish it.”  Across the room, a shriek of laughter caught all our attention, and the waitress smiled.  “See what I mean?”  A tall black guy, his cock still ramrod straight, was bending to kiss a tiny blonde woman on the top of her head, as she flopped back in her chair, her face a mask of utter exhaustion, and one hand massaging her jaw.

“What happens to the left-overs?” I asked, and the waitress gave me a hungry smile.  “Every job has its perks, and that’s ours.  We’ve only been open three hours, and I’ve already had more cock than I ever dreamed of!”

I placed my order and she hustled off.  Someone else bought us glasses of iced water and a bowl of table mints (“I know what these are for,” Suzie smiled) and then our orders arrived.




Cocks come in all shapes and sizes and if you didn’t know that before, a few minutes in Penis Diner would soon put you right.  Just looking around the table was like a crash course in male anatomy: Charlene’s French boy, all Mediterranean tan and sweet sweaty sheen, was murmuring thickly accented encouragement as her tongue slowly swept his shaft; Suzy shucking her Cosmo with precision and patience, and spending so long tugging his briefs down with her teeth that, when his cock was finally freed, and sprang to mouth-watering attention, I think we all felt the shower of pre-cum.

Mary-Kate staring at the two dicks before her and almost weeping with indecision… “which do I try first?”

And Liza tucking in to her Asian banquet, a thick prick and a gaping pussy, which I had to admit looked very tasty.

She saw me watching.  “Do you want to try some?  While you’re waiting for yours?”

I nodded and crouched down beside her, certain my tongue was already hanging out, long before I tapped it against the pink, hot flesh arrayed before me.  Outside of psych class, and the occasions when I was picked for the gym team, I’d never tasted pussy before, but this was unlike any I had ever experienced.  The girl was obviously enjoying it as well, grinding herself into my face as I licked her, sighing disappointedly when Liza made me stop.  “Hey, leave some for me!”

I returned to my seat, my heart in my throat.  Forget all the snippy things I thought about this place when Mary-Kate first mentioned it.  Forget all my cynicism, complaints and smart-ass remarks.  In fact, forget everything aside from the treat that was being served up for me.  I’d gone for the English sausage, and an extra helping of vegetables.  This guy had the biggest, fullest balls I’ve ever seen, and when the waitress told me I would also get extra gravy – well, now I knew what she meant.

“Damn, look at the foreskin on it!  It’s like a banquet in itself!” Even Suzie had torn herself away from her meal to gaze admiringly towards my plate, and her voice was obviously louder than she’d intended because suddenly four or five people at the tables around us were turning to stare as well, all with their own gasps of admiration.

I gripped the cock and its owner moaned softly.  To be truthful, I wasn’t sure what to do now.  Should I peel it back like a banana?  Or do you just devour the whole thing, skin and all?  My meal decided for me, a hand gently laying on the back of my skull and pushing me down towards his erection.

It was huge.  I could feel my jaw straining to encompass the head, and instinctively I rolled back the foreskin as he entered my mouth, loving the way the soft flesh felt as it folded back, and savoring the sharp tang of the knob end beneath it.  I held still for a moment, time enough for my jaw to relax around its mouthful, and to collect my senses, too.  It would be so easy to just pig this thing down, to go wild and get at the gravy that those full, groaning balls so desperately wanted to give me.

But no.  This was a meal to delight in, to stretch out for as long as either of us could take it, and as my head began slowly bobbing on his shaft, I felt English relax as well, a gentle groan as he inched back from the orgasmic precipice to which my first touch had led him, and our bodies merged into one.

There was so much of him!  Those beautiful balls, so round, so heavy.  I sucked at them  as his cock twitched in delighted response, and when I held his dick straight and delivered the tiniest sharp-toothed nibbles, I was rewarded with a fresh pool of pre-cum, collecting in the reservoir that I formed by replacing his foreskin, and which I lapped at with the tip of my tongue, all the while maintaining eye contact with my dish.

The waitress returned  “Is everything to your satisfaction?”  The mouth-filled “mmmm”s with which we all responded were clearly answer enough for her, but she reminded us to leave room for dessert, then left.  English chuckled.  “They always say that, but I don’t think anyone does.”  I couldn’t say anything in reply, though.  I’d just worked my jaws down to the very root of his cock, a deeper throat than I had ever imagined possible to give, and I wasn’t going to let go till I had to.  Breathing can be so inconvenient, sometimes.

“Okay, I’m done.”  Mary-Kate slapped back against her chair, and I could hear the exhaustion in her voice.  She finished Cream, sucked him so dry that his cock looked as worn out as she was.  But Coffee, though he’d cum once (“and it almost blew my head off,” Mary-Kate confided afterwards) was raring to go again, and I saw one of the other waitresses look over and elbow the co-worker who was standing beside her.  Perks of the job indeed.

Charlene looked all in as well, but that girl counts her pennies like other women count gray hairs.  Leaning back in her chair, eyes closed and body limp, she was letting Frenchie do all the work, standing, straddling her and fucking her mouth, counting down his thrusts with ever greater abandon… “dix…. neuf… huit…” until he was approaching zero and the numbers just tumbled out in one almost incomprehensible blur, “troisdeuxun” and he came across her face, in her eyes, up her nose, in her hair.

Somebody tutted, as though to say “what a waste,” but Frenchy just smiled.  “Her belly is already full,” he explained in beautifully broken English.  “That was my third time this sitting.”

Suzy was done, and Cosmo had already been cleared away, so now she sat with a cum-eating grin, plotting what she wanted to try on her next visit, and Liza… Liza had actually switched places with her serving, was lying with her own back on the diner table, while Eggroll fucked her face, and Sushi sucked her cunt.  Wow.  I was definitely going to order that sometime.

But for now…

English served up the gravy.

I knew it was happening long before he said anything.  I could feel it building in those massive balls that tightened in my hand, in the sudden tensing of his cock as it strained against my jaw, and in the barely perceptible sensation that he’d grown an extra half-an-inch, as though preparing to leap down my throat.

My fingers clenched around his shaft, holding him tighter, drawing him closer and, as he called, first a sharp word of warning, and then a wild bellow of passion, my throat opened up to accept the coming flood.  Which slid down so fast that I barely even tasted it, scarcely felt it, hardly even knew about it.

But he made up for that with the spurts that followed, pumping more as his cock gently softened, and this I could savor, holding it in my mouth, basking in its heat, glorying in its flavor.  And, as he slipped out of my mouth and I kissed the tip, watching as his foreskin returned to its natural place, I felt his hands in my hair, softly caressing, and my own determination that I’d be ordering him again.

The check arrived, and we split it between us, left a tip and then filed into the parking lot.  “I could eat here every day,” Liza smiled as she lit a cigarette.

“Or be eaten there,” Mary-Kate shot back.  “You know, I was sure they’d add something to the check for that, it’s a separate item on the menu, after all.”

“It would have been worth it,” Liza answered, and then to me, “so Chrissie.  What did you think?”

I sighed, and then broke out in a beaming smile.  “I think I need to stop off at Sears.  Do they still do the two-for-one doggy style on Tuesdays?”

Mary-Kate nodded.  “Yep.  And I have a coupon for anal as well.  Come on, ladies, let’s get fucked.”


2 thoughts on “Penis Diner

    1. Denise, I’m quite happy to offer myself by being dined on by you and the author:)
      This is no joke, my penis was dined on for 2hrs, the lady was so enthusiastic she even used her teeth and almost drew blood. I can recall every trace of her tongue and teeth in every areas of my cock, the blowjob was dry not wet because she literary wanted to consume and she just kept on gnawing and sucking hard. And she takes my gravy in her mouth and teases me with it on her tongue before swallowing and made sure I see it. The next morning my penis was in a mess, all black marks and puffed out like a round soft cotton ball. It took days to get back to shape and a couple of weeks for the bruises to disappear.

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