Drew works at a hip eatery in the city. He’s a chef in demand, and I knew that when we met.

My best friend, Sarah, was writing a review of his restaurant, and she’d asked me along as her date because I’ve got a stellar palate. But I’m no longer impressed by the taste of the moment. So I’ll admit that I was skeptical when we entered the place. To my delight, Drew’s meal was everything people had promised and more. The “and more” was the part that didn’t get into Sarah’s review, and the “and more” was what brought us together.

Drew’s restaurant is one of those see-and-be-seen locations. The kitchen is on full view behind a glass wall so that diners can watch the culinary gods do their magic. The staff is apparently chosen for beauty as well as effortless charm. Our waiter was a handsome Brit; the goateed ginger bartender could have been a centerfold. Sarah and I were floating by the time we’d devoured the dessert.

After we’d finished the final course, Drew came out to meet us. I had heard the rumors that he was a hottie, with full-sleeve tattoos and dreamboat blue eyes. I’d been spying on him throughout the meal, admiring him in his kitchen whites and imagining what he might look like out of them. But I wasn’t prepared for what happened when we met — the instant connection, the shower of sparks.

“Everything was fabulous,” I told him, feeling flushed. Sarah had just retreated to the ladies’ room to freshen up.

Drew seemed as flushed as I was. He sat at my side and said, “I’ve been watching you all evening. You really know how to enjoy every bite, don’t you?”

I smiled. “I savor.”

“Yes, you do.”

There was a beat while we drank each other in. Then Drew pulled out his phone and asked if we could have a date. “Not until after the piece runs, of course,” he said. “I wouldn’t want to try to sway your decision. I want you to write the review on the merit of the food.”

“It’s not me,” I told him quickly. “I’m not the writer. My friend is.” I couldn’t get the words out fast enough. “She’s the reviewer. I was simply along for company and advice.”

“In that case — ” He entered my number in his phone and promised to dial my digits as soon as he got home.

We spent most of that night texting each other. Actually, we were sexting each other. I felt a bond with him from the start, and as we wrote back and forth, I began confessing secrets I’d never told anyone before.

“What’s your number-one fantasy?” Drew asked me.

“I like going down on a man,” I told him.

He responded with a request for more details, my fantasy clearly too grilled- cheese-simple for a man as refined as Drew.

“Men,” I’d amended. “Going down on men.”

That’s how I found myself late the next night in Drew’s kitchen, on my knees with a white blindfold in place. “I watched you roll the wine in your mouth,” Drew said, his voice crisp and sharp in my ear. “I watched you place each bite of that piece of meat on your tongue and pause, waiting for the flavor to sink in.”

“I’m a gourmet,” I said, allowing myself to savor the unusual atmosphere. I was in Drew’s kitchen. But the dining room was dark; the guests had departed.

“You are a chef’s dream,” he told me. “Try this.”

His cock nudged my lips open. I started to suck immediately. I had been fantasizing about taking Drew’s dick in my mouth from the moment I caught sight of him through that wall of windows. Even though we’d only met twenty-four hours before, I felt as if I’d been waiting for years. I sucked his cock as if I were ravenous, pulling hard, using my tongue to flick out and stroke. I made cheerful humming noises as I worked him. I couldn’t stop myself. He groaned in response, obviously turned on by the sensation of the vibrations against his most tender skin.

To my surprise, he pulled back after only a short time had passed and then said, “Remember what you wrote me last night?”

“I wrote you a lot of things last night,” I said, licking my lips. I was already leaning toward him once more. I wanted that cock. My mouth was watering — and that wasn’t the only part of my body growing decidedly wet.

He put his hand on my head, stroking my dark hair off my forehead. He soothed me with his low rumble of a voice. “Remember, Carrie? Do you remember what you wrote?”

We’d been romantic — if filthy — fools, writing back and forth to each other until nearly dawn. He’d challenged me to tell him a truly dirty fantasy. I’d made him go first. His had been to fuck me on a table in the restaurant while everyone else watched.

I’d said the only way I could do something that debauched was if I were blindfolded at the time.

He’d up the ante, asking what else I might do while blindfolded.

And here we were. Suddenly, I felt my heart start to race as I remembered what I’d written, what he must be referring to.

“I said I wanted to suck off a line of men,” I whispered. Oh, God, were there other people in the room? Had I just blown Drew while his buddies watched? I started to reach for the blindfold, my hands shaking, when Drew went on his knees next to me. He whispered directly in my ear, “You can stop at any time. We can call this quits and go home and eat ice cream on my sofa. I always keep a box of French vanilla on hand. We can watch the movie of the week and snuggle. Whatever you’d like. You say the words.”

He put the power into my hands. I relished the way that felt. I was in control of my own destiny. And my own destiny involved me sucking a line of Drew’s friends. I didn’t move. I didn’t take off my blindfold. I said, “How many?”

“I’m not telling.”

“What do you mean?”

“There might be only one. There might be twelve. You’ve got the palate, pretty girl. You tell us.”

He stood once more and then said the magic word: “Open.” I obeyed immediately, parting my lips and tilting my head back. Drew let me suck his dick again. For several blissful moments, I simply basked in the glow of working that cock. This is an action that I adore. My pussy gets wet from the very first touch of my tongue to a cockhead. Now, with the promise of an unknown amount of dicks in attendance, I was dreamily drenched.

I worked Drew good and proper, until he pulled back. I heard whispers, but no sounds that let me know how many men were in the room. Then there was a new man in front of me. I could tell immediately that this wasn’t Drew pulling a trick. The stranger had a different scent, like lemons and sunshine. I didn’t hesitate. I opened my mouth and waited for unknown man number one to let me suck his dick. He pushed forward, and I rotated my tongue all over the top of his rod. I wanted to learn what this cock felt like.

How long did I suck the stranger? Time didn’t matter. I worked him until he pushed me away and then a new friend took his place. I realized that none of the men were letting me suck them to completion. I had yet to find myself with a mouthful of cream. I wondered why, but I couldn’t ask. There was hardly a moment when my mouth wasn’t full.

This third man had a shorter, fatter dick than either of the previous ones. I liked the way his meat felt in my mouth. Something solid to hold on to. I was about to start playing with myself when the game changed. As if my thoughts had appeared on a tickertape below me, my desires were immediately brought to fruition. I felt hands on me from behind. I was repositioned onto all fours, and my silky scarlet dress was shoved roughly to my hips.

“You have all the power,” Drew said nearby me. “You can stop this at any time.”

I didn’t want to stop. He’d already painted a vision of what stopping would mean: ice cream on a sofa, the movie of the week. I didn’t want ice cream, no matter what flavor. I wanted the man behind me to go down and start licking my split through my panties, which he did, quickly winning my undying gratitude.

“Off,” I begged, letting loose of the cock in my mouth for only a second. “Take them off.”

The hands did what I asked, pulling my panties off slowly, helping me slip them all the way down my legs and over my heels. Then that tongue was back where I wanted it, nestled between my juicy nether lips. I thought I’d come immediately, but the man behind me had other plans. He knew his way around a pussy, giving me little flicks with the tip of his tongue and sliding a finger up into my snatch. Each time I thought I would reach my climax, he backed off, keeping me on the crest of ecstasy for so long I thought I might never reach the shore.

So now I had a cock in my mouth and a tongue in my pussy. Based on my intimate knowledge of flavors and scents, I’d surmised there were three men in the room. Drew and two of his friends. What was the third going to do while the other two were busy?

“Do you mind?” Drew asked me, again so close that he was whispering in my ear.

“Mind what?” I panted, taking a breath.

“If I film you?”

My heart, oh my sweet, pounding heart. I could feel how fast it was racing. I wanted nothing more than to see what I looked like — later, when this whole decadent evening was over.

“Yes,” I said, and the word came out partly like a command and partly like a whimper. “Film me. Film us!”

Before I resumed my sucking games, I took off my clothes. I wanted to be naked. I wanted to be entirely exposed. Then I began sucking the cock in front of me again until there was another change. A swap. The man who’d been tending to my pussy took his spot in front of me. I licked him and sucked him until he moaned fiercely. And who was now at my pussy? I sensed Drew behind me, gripping my hips and plunging.

Would there be a quiz when we were through? Would I have to choose Drew from the lineup? I stopped wondering and let myself go, floating on the endorphins that flooded my body. I had a thick cock in my mouth, and a hard dick in my pussy. What more could a girl want?

Ah. The third man got into position on his back, and I felt a tongue flicking over my clit, dancing on that hot button of my undoing. I came so hard, I pulled forward, my pussy releasing Drew’s dick. I couldn’t stop myself. I broke our connection without thought, climaxing like I never had before. But I didn’t stop sucking. Drew pulled me back to him and fucked me until he came, grinding his hips against mine and shooting deep inside me.

He pulled out when he was through, and the man who’d been beneath me took over. I was filled once more, but now I felt fingers on my clit. I sensed that Drew was strumming me while one of his friends fucked my mouth and the other fucked my cunt.

“You are so beautiful,” Drew said. His friends murmured their agreement. I didn’t respond. I’d have had to let go of the dick in my mouth, and I refused until I was forcibly pulled back.

Now something more interesting happened. The men began to rotate. I’d suck one, another would be in my pussy, the third would be filming. Then I’d taste semen on the dick of the next one, licking Drew’s seed off another man’s cock. I knew which one Drew was, and that’s all that mattered.

When the second man came, he did so in my mouth, and I swallowed every drop. Watching this, the third climaxed in my pussy. Then Drew took his position behind me once more. Sloppy seconds? I didn’t care, and it didn’t seem as if Drew cared. I would have taken all their seed inside me. Sloppy thirds, fourths — I was open. There was never a moment that I didn’t have a cock in my mouth or a cock or a tongue in my cunt. I felt the powerful connection between the four of us. At least, I thought there were four. What if I’d misjudged? What if Drew had brought in his entire staff to watch: the adorable waiter who’d served me the night before, the bartender who’d made sure to mix my drink exactly how I like, the maître d’, the kitchen help —

While my mind took me on a quick trip to fantasyland, the boys were busy. I realized that the fucking had stopped, and that a trio of men surrounded me. Then I remembered Drew’s fantasy — to fuck me in front of an audience. I quivered at the thought. I felt myself being lifted and set on a cool countertop. I was ready for a cock; I was surprised by a tongue.

“I’m guessing you can tell the difference between our cocks,” Drew said. “But how about our oral expertise? Can you tell which tongue is which?”

“I don’t even know who you all are,” I murmured, realizing that I’d just been fucked by men I’d never seen before.

“Yes, you do,” Drew said. “Think about last night.”

I’d guessed without even realizing who my partners were. “The waiter?” I asked tentatively.

“Andrew, at your service,” came the British voice.

“The bartender?” I asked next.

“You take yours with a twist, yes?”

“There aren’t any others, are there?” I asked Drew.

“Not this time, baby,” he said. “It’s only me, Andrew and Daniel.”

“So the game is — ”

“Guess which one of us is which.”

That sounded like fun to me. I spread my thighs and felt a tongue crest over my shaved pussy lips. I was dripping wet from all the fucking, and I was extremely sensitive. The tongue (or the owner, at least) seemed to know this. There was only the gentlest licking at first. I held on to the countertop with my fingers, splaying my thighs wide as the kissing grew more intense. The oral aficionado moved on to nipping at my thighs, until I was going wild with the ticklish torture.

Slowly, the mouth moved back over my mound, and at that precise moment, I felt another mouth — lower. “Oh, fuck,” I whispered. “Oh, Jesus.” The second man was licking my toes. I had never considered myself into foot worship, but having my pussy and my toes licked simultaneously made me come.

The men let me float back to earth. Then the next in line took his place. I felt whiskers, so I knew this was the bartender. I giggled, because there really was no way for him to mask his identity. Happily, that didn’t stop him from playing along. He had a different method of working my pussy. He ignored my clit totally — which I was grateful for. I felt as if someone had turned on a switch inside me, as if my inner motor was revving on high. Instead of focusing on my clit, he used the very tip of his tongue to trace concentric circles around my core.

It was crazy. I went from thinking I could never come again, from being certain that pleasure had wrung me dry, to hearing my hoarse voice beg him, seriously beg him to bring me release. “Don’t tease me,” I said softly. “Please.”

“Who are you talking to?” That was Drew. I could tell.

“Daniel,” I said. “That’s Daniel.”

“With a twist,” he said and spiraled his fingers inside me, creating a corkscrew with two overlapping fingers. My pussy began contracting on his probing digits as he finally sucked my jewel between his lips, bringing me once more to exquisite heights.

Somehow I knew Drew would want to be not only my first but my last. What I didn’t expect was for him to ask his partners in pleasure to depart.

“Take off the blindfold,” Drew said. “Let’s kiss our friends good-night.”

I did as he said, tasting myself on Andrew’s lips, feeling my wetness on Daniel’s goatee. The men looked as dazed with pleasure as I felt. They said their good-byes and went on their way, leaving me alone in the kitchen with Drew. His blue eyes roved over me with obvious appreciation.

Once it was just the two of us, he lifted me up and set me down on the hardwood floor. We got into a sixty-nine and began to dine on one another. I was liquid by this point, demolished by what had felt like constant tidal waves breaking over my body. But Drew was full of energy. He licked me up and down, up and down, then he spun me so I was astride his cock.

“Ride me,” he insisted. “Ride me hard and then lick me clean.”

I did precisely what he said, and as I did, he brought up the camera once more. This time, instead of filming me, he played back the movie he’d made. I caught my breath, amazed at the sexiness of the scene.

I bounced on him until I was on the cusp once more, then we flipped and sixty-nined until we came into each other’s mouth, a geyser of his come for me, a river of my honeyed juices for him.

“Sweeter than any ice cream.”

Sitting up against the cabinets, nude and sticky, he kept kissing me, smiling at me, admiring me.

“How did you know?” I asked.

“Know what?”

I tried to put my question into words. “How did you understand that my most treasured fantasy was for me to be treated this way?”

“You told me last night.”

I shrugged. Yes, I’d told him a bit when we’d texted the previous night, but he’d gotten everything right to my specifications. When I said this, Drew grinned. “I knew,” he said, “when I watched you eat. That’s what makes me a good chef. I can create the perfect meal.”

“Or be one,” I said, as I bent to bob over his hardening cock once more.