Joe Hilliard

I am Your Back Door Man

“I have the most amazing restaurant for us.” Sheila bit her lower lip. I could barely understand her, my face buried deep in her lush pubic hair, my tongue seeking out her inner lips. I slid my gaze off her glistening wetness. Sheila’s dilated pupils stared back at me.

“Just that you’re eating … hmm … made me hungry.” She ran her fingers through my hair and pushed my face back into her pubes, crushing me against her softness. “Baby needs sustenance after she cums.” Her voice ragged now. “And baby needs to cum.”

“I do my best work on my knees.”

“You better.” She flinched as I flicked my tongue across her clit. “Damn. You better.”

No more talking. Not if I expected to enjoy the rest of the evening. Sheila could be quite the taskmaster if she was not pleased. She spread her thighs wider, allowing me to delve deeper into her hot cunt.

I slid my tongue deep into her wetness, my nose flush into her pubic hair. Her juices ran down my cheeks onto my neck. Pushing up for a second, I worked my index finger deep into her. The juices coating it, lubricating me. Finger fucking her deep deep, my middle finger joining the index to thrust further into her – my tongue still doing its best to please her clit as she thrashed her thighs back and forth.

Slowly, I rested my left hand under her soft intoxicating ass cheeks, massaging them as I continued to slide deep into her with my right, my knuckled ring finger and pinky slapping against her taint as I fingered her. She pushed up off the bed slightly, purchase, my left hand squeezing in, thumb pressing gently against her tight ass, slowly sliding into her hole, she gasping, moaning – hips thrusting towards me. I’m drowned in twat juice and the smell of her sex, the scrape of her pubic hair, the quickening pace of her pulse against my cheek, my fingers, my every fiber of being.

Bearing down with my tongue, her thighs splayed open, my tongue darted, flicked, Sheila’s hand tore into my hair, pulling it into knots, pushing my face forward. One hand loosened and scratched at my neck, pulling at the skin. I sink into her and lose myself entirely.

And she was cumming. All over my face. Drenching me. To die in her succulence.

It was a few minutes before I could raise the energy to roll up onto the bed. As I lay there, Sheila stroked my nipple. My eyes took in the beauty next to me. Where had she appeared from? Sheila reminded me of Hyapatia Lee, with her luxurious pubic hair and long straight black hair. Especially as she reclined on the bed, post-orgasm. “Baby needs sustenance. Yum Cimil. The new Cajun place over in Claremont. In the old village. By the college campus.”

I sighed as she pinched my nipple harder, ran her hand across my inner thigh. “Doesn’t sound Cajun. Salvadorean? Peruvian?”

“The chef took over from old ownership. They’re still rebranding. The original owners had been there simply forever.” She grabbed her phone from the nightstand and scrolled through their Instagram – hardwood floors, open ceiling, glittering bar, jazz combo, beignets, and an exquisitely shot gumbo. “If you’re good, I’ll give you a special treat at the end of the night.” She wrapped her fingers around my shaft and stroked.

Sheila knew me too well. I moaned. A few moments of her erotic machinations and she loosened her grip. I tried to concentrate.

“Didn’t I read about missing college kids in the area lately?” An ex had texted me about it last week. They were worried about going out. Maybe I could assuage their fears? I ghosted them.

“What’s the matter? Scared of a little rumor? It’s SoCal, nothing is safe. Nothing is real.” She laughed. “Maybe you’re scared of spicy Cajun on your delicate palate?” She bit the base of my neck. “Scared of more spicy me on your delicate dick?”

Sold.

Sheila was correct. Yum Cimil served a succulent whole fried catfish with an equally succulent etouffee. As succulent as Sheila.

And yes, as succulent as their staff. Luther, with a little bit of blue dye in his hair. Eyeliner. Paper skinny, barely filling out his uniform, white button down and a vest. When he brought waters to the table, my hand brushed his. I could see he was blushing, even behind his mask. Safety first. His eyes were black and melty.

I knew there was a smile hidden there.

And I felt myself bulging in my jeans. I realized the restrooms were near the kitchen. I timed a trip to when we would be circling out of the bustling kitchen with a tray of beignets and banana pudding. Such luxuriant cream.

As I went by, I whispered, “when you off?” and winked. He turned red again. 

“At closing, 10.” Fifteen minutes. 

As I slid back into my seat, Sheila gave my thigh a little squeeze “Do you like your special treat?” And she winked.

“Hmmm?”

“You think I found this place by luck? I know the new owner … and his staff. They’re very special. You’ve been a good boy. Baby likes to treat her good boys well.” She flicker her tongue into my ear. Her words penetrated my nipples. “And I believe Luther knows how to treat you well.” Her fingers dug into my thigh. She blew a kiss to Luther.

Sheila and I walked hand in hand out of Yum Cimil. Her nails dug into my palm, inflaming me. I could feel heat radiating from her body. The coiling taut sex in her. She tickled her tongue across her lips as we reached the corner. “You should go that way.” She pointed. “Enjoy. I’ll be waiting for you later.”

Yum Cimil took up the corner. I went down the side street and found the cook’s entrance in the back. I shivered, suddenly cool in the SoCal night.

And then, Luther slid out, no mask on, his lips as soft and full as I’d hoped. He smiled. I kissed him quickly, hard. His mouth opening, our tongues intertwining. I pulled him close. The taste of Sheila’s juices mingled with the waft of the blackened flesh of the catfish, and then the sweaty musk of Luther, such a sweet bouquet of sex and feast and … anticipation.

My bulge was bursting my jeans, tight on his thigh. 

He smiled.

“What do you want?”

Hmmm. What did I want? Sheila knew me too well.

Luther shoved me back into a doorway a bit off the back of Yum Cimil, in the dark. Just hidden enough, so no one passing on the street would see. He sunk to his knees. His hands undid my belt. My cock leaped out as soon as he unzipped it. I wasn’t wearing briefs, just cock. It slapped teasingly at his face. He leaned back and laughed, then took the head in between his soft soft lips. So good. I moaned as soon as his tongue encircled the head, licking at the soft spot on the bottom. I put my hand into his blue-tinged hair, stroking it as he began to bob up and down my shaft, taking more and more in, wetting the entire length. 

He took long slow strokes, prolonging my agony. The head barely in his mouth and then down down until his lips were touching my balls. Slowly up and down, up and down. My passion was burning. A few minutes, and I was so inflamed. I dug my fingers into his hair and started stroking faster into his mouth, my hand holding his head steady. Hmmm. His lips loosened. He moaned on my shaft as I thrust. Faster. Harder. Deeper. Lee fucking Majors. My balls slapping his chin.

He felt my passion before I did. His lips suddenly tightening, grasping my cock harder, so hard, so soft, so intense. I pulled back one more stroke … and came deep deep into his throat, spasm after spasm of cum. My knees buckled. I dug deeper into his hair as the last few shots splurted between into his lips…slipping my cock out into the cool night air. Finally leaning back against the door behind me…

Which gave way, yawning open behind me. I started to fall, grasping the frame for purchase. Luther pushed me, his hands into my hip bones, thrusting lewdly. Cum dripped from his lips… and blood, a whisper of blood where his incisor bit into his lip. The floor came fast up on me.

I pulled my jeans up as I struggled to my feet. The back kitchen was not a kitchen. Not really. My mind tried to take it all in. The space was cavernous, much much too big to be the tiny space I had glimpsed Luther come out of only a short time ago. It was a kitchen, perhaps. But more primal and more technologically advanced then should exist. It was though cave dwellers, those who rent their meat with canines and flint and open flame, had been thrust directly into a twenty-third century of laser knives and three-dimensional holograms of the innards of any and all manner of creature – so that though could grind all the juices out. Epicurean barbarism. Neolithic modernism. A cave, a cavern, dimly lit, darkened, and yet punctuated, lit large, by fluorescents and freons that bathed it all in a cold sharp glow. My mind couldn’t grasp it. Like someone flicking the light switch on and off, on and off, off and on – stupendous darkness and unbearable light. All of it populated with … with decadence. So light headed, I swooned.

A hand caught me. I turned, Luther was grinning at me. He licked his fingers sensuously, his eyes locked on mine. “What do you want?”

What did I want?

My eyes accustomed themselves to the vision in front of me. It focused into, not normalcy, but a kind of coherence. It made sense. No. it made no sense. But I could see. Luther led me by the arm. Further into the … kitchen? Operating theater? The alien non-Euclidian amphitheater? We stopped in front of a hulking smoking monstrosity.

It was a living breathing vision of the milking machine from A Boy and His Dog. I remembered being horrified and aroused by the film in the middle of the night, stumbling into it – the dark mechanical succubus pulling the sperm and cum out of Don Johnson. But this monstrosity, this mechanical not mechanical thing sucked at every orifice of the men and women attached to it – cocks, vulvas, assholes, lips, nostrils. Ears! My god, it was penetrating their ears.

“I knew you’d be perfect and ripe. Even before I tasted you.” Luther’s lips curled back, his tongue flailing out. I could see dancing shadows in the back of his throat, hissing like medusa’s tresses. I was getting hard again, despite my fear.

Luther laughed. “You see. You want it. You desire it. No one who tastes the kisses of Yum Cimil can resist.”

“What? What do you mean?” My breath, I could barely catch my breath. I was sweating profusely. Burning up. And throbbing. My brain wanted to run, run, run … but my hardon wanted to press itself deep into the silent pumping machine. To fuck the machine. The complete Yum Cimil.

“Don’t resist.” Luther drew closer. His tongue flickered out and licked my ear. “It’s better than any threesome you’ve ever been in..”

“How do you…?”

“I’ve tasted you. Before you even set foot in here. Yum Cimil has tasted you.” His hand found my belt again, unhooking it. My cock rising free into the cool air. Yum Cimil throbbed, a tentacled extension weaving its way towards me across the floor. I became aware at last of the rest of Yum Cimil’s domain. Not just the succubus, the incubus. No too, the skinning machine. Flayed bodies hanging on racks, what little fluids left to them draining out. The abattoir. The fluids rolling down the troughs into spigots just down the way. Just down the way. Luther smiled. Other waitstaff moved about, collecting heaping dishes to be served. Served where? Who were Yum Cimil’s nocturnal customers? The foods, the succulent foods. But what, what sweetmeats were they? The cock-like feeler slid onto my shoe, poking my jeans.

I stepped back, banging into one of the … one of the cooks. Shapeless, formless, human, not human, all part of the Yum Cimil. The probe slid between them, ignored. The creatures were committed to slicing away at the desiccated bodies on their counter. The catfish. The beautiful whole fried catfish, bubbling in oil – oil extracted from the bodies by Yum Cimil. And the dried slices, garnishing the dishes. The etouffee!

“This is what you wanted. This is your destiny.” Luther continued to whisper into my ear as he guided me to the glittering tentacle, lifted it, caressing it lovingly as he brought it towards me. “All you have ever wanted is the pleasures of the flesh.”

Yes. Sheila. Luther. Those moments of swipe right. Naked in the back of a car. In a hotel room with the curtains closed waiting my turn, stroking it, one more in line. With the husband tied up in the corner as I took his wife. With the wife tied up in the corner as I took her husband. That first time, in a movie theatre, not knowing who was watching. Knowing now, who had been watching, who had always been watching. Yum Cimil. It had always been watching. Always been waiting. Always wanting my pleasures.

I fell to my knees. I do my best work on my knees. Luther brought the tentacle close. It wrapped hard grasping around my cock. Into my cock. Another slid across the floor, cold deep penetrating my ass. I moaned. Another tentacle erupted off the floor through my lips at that moment. Crushing the sound.

Briefly, my eyes focused. Sheila stood there. She smiled, blood dripped from her lips, a whisper where her incisor bit into her lip. “I’m so glad I tasted you. Hmmm. Baby needs sustenance.”

And Yum Cimil devoured me.

It was glorious.