The number one ingredient that customers look for on a night out is an atmosphere of sexual possibility. As the manager of a hot London bar, it’s my top priority to provide that. Sure, the hours are grueling, but I get the best buzz when the bar is packed, the music is pulsating, the drinks are flowing and the atmosphere is electric. There’s a serious sexual energy behind the bar as the staff mix cocktails and flirt with the customers. I love the banter, but don’t get involved. I prefer to keep my distance and maintain an air of professionalism. I’ve worked my way up, and know from experience what’s going on behind the scenes – the suggestive comments and lingering touches, the post work wind-down over long drinks, the one-thing-leads-to-another shoulder rubs. And why not? As long as they have the right attitude on the job – and I am a very demanding boss – I’m happy for my team to bond in whatever way they see fit.
It’s my business to recruit the hottest staff, who reflect the bar’s super-hot image. There’s no shortage of candidates eager to be associated with such a high-profile venue. Staff turnover is pretty high, as I like to ensure a good mix of nationalities – foreigners tend to move on quickly when it’s time to explore the next cool European capital. But that’s the way I like it; it keeps things fresh and exciting. I’ve honed my interviewing skills and can ascertain that a candidate has the requisite English, numeracy and mixing skills, and that all-important sparkle that will keep the customers coming back for more, within a ten minute meeting. The interview is also my opportunity to impose my authority, to impress upon new joiners that whilst I’m fun and friendly to be around, I expect my orders to be followed to the letter and don’t tolerate any dissent.
So how did I come to be lying on my back on my desk, knickers around my ankles, gasping in ecstasy as a gorgeous Brazilian candidate gave me the best head of my life with a firm, insistent tongue?
It happened so quickly, I barely knew what was happening. Joao, who had arrived punctually for his interview on a quiet Wednesday afternoon and was waiting for me in the bar, slid off his stool to shake my hand when Zac, on duty at the time, introduced me.
“It is very good to meet you,” he said, in a deep accented voice.
“Likewise,” I replied, very businesslike, but I was taken aback by a sharp fluttering in my stomach, something that I hadn’t felt for years. “Thank you for coming in to see me. Please come into my office”.
Joao followed me as I led him through the ‘Staff Only’ door and down a long dingy corridor. I was very conscious of his presence behind me, and imagined his eyes were firmly fixed on my bum as I swayed along in my pencil skirt and heels. I could feel myself getting warm, and felt slightly flushed as I opened the door to my office and gestured for him to enter and take a seat.
How did I come to be lying on my back on my desk, knickers around my ankles, gasping in ecstasy as a gorgeous Brazilian candidate gave me the best head of my life with a firm, insistent tongue?
I’m a pretty level-headed person, not really one for flights of fancy and certainly not given to lusting after complete strangers. But as I sat down opposite Joao at my desk, I felt almost disorientated by his presence. He was, by any measure, very attractive, with his dark soulful eyes, long curly brown hair and tall athletic body. But I tend to be surrounded by beautiful people in the bar, and am fairly inured to it. In Joao’s case however, there was more to it than that; he had an almost electric energy about him that knocked me right off my normal equilibrium. But he seemed entirely oblivious to his effect on me, and flashed me a disarming, genuine smile.
I cleared my throat and sought to regain my composure, and the upper hand. “Well, thank you for your interest in this position. Tell me a little about yourself and your bar experience to date.”
As he talked, I scribbled a couple of notes down on my pad, more for want of something to do with my hands than out of any doubt that I would employ him. His experience was perfect, with mixology credentials from cool bars in Sao Paulo, New York and Madrid, and he certainly had the requisite charm factor.
“And what brings you to London?” I asked.
He shrugged, relaxed and nonchalant. “This is my opportunity to experience the world before settling down in Brazil. I want to see the sights of Europe, visit its museums and art galleries, taste its women.”
At this I drew in my breath sharply and raised my eyebrows. Perhaps the phrasing was to do with English not being his mother tongue, a fault of translation. But my eyes met his, and there was a challenge there, an invitation, and it was clear that he knew exactly what he had said. Ordinarily I would brush such a blatant come-on aside with an acerbic put-down, but coming from Joao, and feeling the way I did then, I neither wanted to nor felt able to. Instead I smiled and said, “I have no doubt that when you do, you will find that we taste good.”
The tone of our encounter set, I pressed on with a few more standard questions but barely paid attention to the responses. I could feel the mounting anticipation, I felt certain that this guy and I were embarking on a journey towards a distinctly sizzling outcome. I saw no reason to be coy about his employment prospects, given he was clearly such a good fit. “When can you start?” I asked, as I shook his hand across the desk. He smiled and said, “When do you want me?”
“Right here, right now” was obviously the response that sprang to mind, but I managed to restrain myself and simply muttered something about having to check the rota and get back to him.
“Well, Joao, it was a pleasure to meet you,” I said as I stood and edged my way round my desk to show him out. But the tiny dimensions of my office meant that I had to squeeze past him to get to the door, and I could feel his breath on my face as I did so. Just as I reached for the handle, he hit his hand against the door to stop me opening it.
“Sorry, just one last question,” he said, catching my hand.
But I didn’t care what his question was; I knew what his motive for asking it was and as he turned me back to face him I reached up to his face, pulling him towards me and kissing his lips with a ferocity that I’ve rarely felt. I ran my hands down his back, tugging his thin shirt out of his jeans so I could touch his skin. His hands, meanwhile, had very quickly found their way to my bum, and were massaging my buttocks through my skirt, pulling my body tight up against his so I could feel the hard bulge in his trousers. He pulled my blouse out from my skirt, unbuttoning it in no time, and pulled on the sleeves to shake it off me. His mouth was on my neck now, licking my skin and making my whole body shiver as my back arched away from him. He unhooked my bra and ran his hands around to the front to cup my breasts, his fingers twirling over my nipples, as I moaned quietly. He crouched down slightly in front of me and ran his tongue down my throat and on down, to my nipple, which he sucked, hard, before biting it gently with his teeth – something that I’d never enjoyed before but which, in my state of heightened arousal, felt incredibly erotic. By now I knew I was very wet for him and desperate for him to fuck me. But he had other ideas.
“Take your skirt off,” he whispered and I eagerly did, wiggling out of it as he watched me with a dirty smile on his face. I was now wearing nothing but a tiny pair of yellow knickers and my heels, while he was still fully clothed. He took me by the shoulders and moved me back until I felt the wood of the table against me, and then pushed me down until my back was on the desk and my legs were either side of him. I expected him to unbutton his jeans but instead he leaned over me and licked my stomach, tracing a line down to my knickers, before grabbing them at both sides and peeling them down my legs. My legs were already obligingly spread for him, and as he ran his arms under my legs to put his hands under my back and gain better access, I rested my head back on the desk, closed my eyes and surrendered completely to the magic of the situation I found myself in. His tongue dipped in and out of me, teasing me and taking me to the brink, as I writhed around on the desk, before finally he brought me to a perfect orgasm with repeated, hard upward strokes with his tongue.
“Well, that’s one way to seal the deal,” I said a few moments later, when I’d managed to get my breath back. Joao helped me to my feet and handed my clothes back to me. Amid my post-orgasmic glow I was aware of feeling a little bemused by his selfless attention to me, but Joao looked very pleased with himself and the whole state of affairs and I couldn’t help but feel a little surge of happiness.
“I am very much looking forward to working with you,” he said, as I showed him out.
“Likewise,” I replied, shaking his hand and smiling. “It’s certainly going to be interesting.”
Joao’s first shift, three days later, was on a busy Friday night. He was taken through the ropes by the bar manager when he arrived, while I was otherwise occupied in the kitchens, but I caught glimpses of him across the serving area. I had given myself a stern talking to about professionalism and appropriate management behaviour following our interview encounter, and had convinced myself that I could put my loss of control down to a fleeting, uncharacteristic moment of weakness that wouldn’t be repeated. But I felt my resolve wither as soon as I glimpsed him behind the bar, expertly fixing drinks.
As the evening wore on, the bar filled and the atmosphere started to crackle, I was kept busy ensuring that everything ran smoothly, working closely with the bar, kitchen and door managers and checking in on our security office. I hadn’t even had a chance to say hello to Joao and had almost managed to zone him out of my mind altogether, when I was called to the bar area to help deal with a problem with a card machine. We had 12 staff on, so it was a bit of a squeeze behind the bar as they jostled one another to reach for spirit bottles and cocktail shakers. Suddenly, I was right beside Joao and could feel the heat emanating from him, which immediately took me back to that steamy session in my office and undermined any control I thought I’d be able to exercise. The music was so loud that we had to shout at one another, and I was unconcerned about being overheard as I said, “You look hot” – double entendre intended.
“Well, then, I need to take some clothes off,” he said with a wink, and I knew that we were game on, and that I was completely up for it. While I sorted out the card machine he continued to mix cocktails, finishing them off with a flare of citrus and presenting them to charmed customers with a flourish. My job done, I turned to leave and felt his hand on the small of my back. “My break’s at midnight, is that right?” he asked, his mouth close to my ear. “It is,” I replied, “and I recommend you step outside to cool down and get some fresh air down the side alley”. Seedy, maybe, but at least we would be alone.
At just after midnight, I stepped out and felt the cool air hit my bare arms, a pleasant sensation after the heavy hot air of the bar. Joao was already out there, leaning against the wall, and he put out his hand and pulled me towards him. I allowed my body to fall into his, and his hands rested on my waist as he kissed me on the lips, briefly. He pulled away, smiling, and said, “Hi, boss.”
“Hi. Looks like you’re settling in very well,” I said, pulling his T-shirt up and sliding my hands up his chest. “You know your drinks, and you’re certainly a big hit with our female customers.”
“Is that so?” he asked. “That’s good to know. And what about with you?”
“I’m reserving judgment,” I said as I felt his fingers snaking up my leg under my skirt. “It takes a lot to impress me.”
“Oh yeah? Well, that’s a challenge I can’t resist,” he said, and pulled my skirt right up around my waist. I couldn’t believe I was behaving so shamelessly, getting dirty in a dark alley with someone I barely knew, but the whole situation was sending me almost delirious with excitement. We kissed again, this time more passionately, and my hand found his belt buckle and opened it deftly. He was hard as my hand freed him from his pants, and I started to massage it, gently at first and then more vigorously as his fingers worked their way into my knickers and slid into me. I was standing on tiptoes, legs spread, grinding into his hand as he was moving in mine, his other hand squeezing my bum and finding its way into me, which just heightened the sensation. He pulled my knickers down and I kicked them off, and he swung me round so my back was against the wall.
We kissed again, this time more passionately, and my hand found his belt buckle and opened it deftly
“Now,” I moaned. He took a condom from his pocket, slid it onto his cock guided it into me. I pushed my hips forward into him, resting my shoulders against the wall. Then he put one hand on the wall and hugged me tightly with the other as he thrust against me, almost lifting me off the ground with his force as I clung to him. It was hard, animalistic sex and it was sensational, as I completely let my inhibitions go and moaned louder every time he slid into me. I came quickly, blissfully, and my head dropped on his shoulder, as he finished with a few further thrusts and a long groan as I felt him pulsing inside me.
We rested against one another for a minute, before disentangling ourselves.
“Wow,” he breathed. “That was incredible!”
I was blown away by his enthusiasm, and by the awesome sex, but my British reserve kicked in and I shrugged and said, “Yeah, it wasn’t bad.”
“Not bad, huh?” he repeated, grinning. “Wow, you really are hard to impress.”
“Come home with me tonight and maybe you’ll get another chance,” I said, picking up my pants. “And in the meantime, I certainly won’t be wearing these again.”
Concentrating was very hard for the duration of my shift, particularly as I was aware Joao knew that I wasn’t wearing any pants and was still sticky with his come. At three o’clock, after the last customers had left and the bar had been cleaned, I watched as he declined an invitation for drinks back at one of the other guy’s flats, claiming he needed to be up early for a long bike ride. I waited a couple of minutes before saying my goodbyes and then followed him out, and met him a short way down the road where we hailed a cab almost immediately and jumped in.
He had clearly awoken something in me, as I have always been relatively reserved sexually, but there, in the back of that taxi, as soon as he put his hand on my knee I unfolded my legs and guided his hand up to my nakedness. He touched me gently, slowly, teasing me by dipping his fingers into me and then running them down my legs, so that by the time the cab pulled up outside my building, I was in a state of delirium as I thrust a note at the cab driver and told him to keep the change. I let us into the building and as soon as the main door had closed behind us, Joao’s hands were on me again, this time running up my stomach and cupping my breasts. I led him into the lift, and by the time the lift hit my floor twenty seconds later, my blouse was completely undone. Thankfully there was no one around as we walked down the corridor, and as soon as we were in the privacy of my flat I shrugged my blouse off.
“Are you not even going to offer me a drink?” asked Joao, as I took his hand to lead him into the bedroom. Much as I was desperate to get him inside me again, I let him pull me back into the kitchen, and quickly fixed us two strong G&Ts. As I did so, Joao unzipped my skirt, letting it fall to the floor, and unhooked my bra, and I leaned against the worktop as his fingers once again found their way into me. I felt my body almost melting as the combination of sexual arousal and alcohol took hold of me. I passed Joao his drink, but instead of taking a sip, he dipped his fingers in to retrieve an ice cube, and ran it down my back, down my bum, and, using three fingers, slid it between my legs. The sensation was amazing. The hard, numbing iciness against my clitoris was enough to bring me to a climax that reverberated through my whole body. Joao pulled me into his arms and hugged me as my body flopped against him. Then he took the ice cube, which was still in his hand, and put it in his mouth, sucking on it for a minute and then crunching into it.
My energy was spent, but Joao had enough for both of us. He scooped me up in his arms and carried me into the bedroom, dropping me down onto the bed before undressing himself. He lay down beside me, and stroked my face, before pulling me into a long slow kiss. We must have just lain there kissing for a good few minutes, which felt incredibly tender and intimate, more so in fact than anything we’d already done. I felt myself getting turned on again as he pressed against me and stroked my body, and I wrapped one leg around him. He didn’t need any more encouragement, and – condom on – slid into me. We moved against one another, slowly at first but then accelerating the rhythm as the intensity mounted. He came just before I did, gripping me tightly with his eyes squeezed tightly shut as his mouth dropped open, and he released his breath with a long loud groan. My orgasm was gentler, less all consuming, than before, as my body tensed around my pelvis before waves of utter relaxation washed over me.
We fell asleep there, and slept solidly together for seven hours, wiped out by our physical exertions. When I said goodbye to Joao that morning as I let him out of my apartment, I felt sure that there would be no repeat of our liaison, that we would find a way to navigate those first awkward post-fling conversations and eventually fall into a more conventional manager-employee relationship. But he surprised me by turning up the next evening with a bottle of wine, and we found that, for all the amazing sexual chemistry, we actually also had a lot in common and complemented each other perfectly.
I was worried that being seen to be in a relationship with one of the bar staff would undermine my position at work, but no one batted an eyelid. We haven’t yet had a rerun of our first encounter in my office, but I can’t do the accounts at my desk without thinking of it. But for now, I’m dreaming of the deserted beaches he’s going to take me to in Brazil, and the prospect of him peeling off my bikini on the hot sand…