Ripping Restaurant Revenge

I'm excited to share the second of our commission stories for this month, an awesome idea from our winner for a classic revenge story, but this time . . . on a first date. I hope you guys love this as much as I do!

Philip Jennings was by far the most arrogant, condescending dick I had ever come across in my entire life. He was a senior sales exec at the same tech company that I worked for, and I’d have hated the man, if he hadn’t been so damn easy on the eye.

Frankly, he was perfection. At 6’3, Philip had broad shoulders, a deliciously thick chest, big arms, thick thighs and the meatiest bubble butt you could imagine, not to mention a bulge in his pants that had made me drool more than once.

During my first few weeks at the company, I’d clocked Philip on multiple occasions and finally got a chance to chat to him as we were waiting for a company meeting to start. I wasn’t the most subtle as I asked him if he wanted to discuss sales projections over a coffee, but the cold way he looked me up and down before dismissing me had lit a fire in me than I never knew was possible.

Six months after that hideous interaction and I was a different man. I’d dropped thirty pounds, toned up like crazy with a new gym routine and traded my tatty wardrobe for the same designer shirts, suits and shoes that Philip always wore.

Was I obsessed? Possibly. But I wanted revenge.

I considered doing something to Philip in the office but every scenario I considered wasn’t good enough. I wanted to utterly wreck him. So, I concocted a plan. With my slimmer, fitter body and my expensive suits, Philip had suddenly become much more interested in talking to me, and that’s when I decided what I’d do.

One of the firm’s biggest clients was in town, and dining at one of the best restaurants in town, which I knew because I’d booked the table for them myself.

My plan was simple – trick Philip into asking me out and stage our first date in that restaurant, where I would engineer it to be as humiliating as humanly possible, showing him up in front of the big client that he’d scored for the firm.

Getting Philip to ask me out took no effort at all. I only told him how good he looked, and he asked me if I wanted to have dinner with him. Easy! The next step in my plan was a little more complicated but thanks to my new best friend at the suit boutique where Philip and I both shopped, everything was coming together.

The following morning, I waited eagerly near reception for my first glimpse of Philip, and just after nine, there he was, walking through the doors in a navy suit that hugged every curve of his flawless muscular physique. He was wearing a lilac shirt, a dark purple tie, and a pair of dark brown leather dress shoes.

“Good morning, handsome,” I said as he approached me, the usual cocky expression on his face. “Looking exceptionally good today.”

“I know. A little birdie told me that this was your favourite colour.”

I forced myself to smile and gush as I told him how incredibly sweet he was, and how much I couldn’t wait for dinner. That last was true, but for very different reasons.

The day seemed to crawl by as I eagerly waited for it to be 6pm. I’d planned everything down to the last detail, and I was relieved that Philip looked his usual arrogant and impeccably dressed self as he met me in the lobby and we headed downtown in a cab.

To say the conversation was dry would be an understatement, but the thought of what was to come kept me smiling and chatting with him like a doe-eyed schoolgirl.

“So, drinks first?” he asked as we stepped out of the cab and on to the sidewalk.

“Let’s go for drinks after dinner,” I said with a small shrug. “I’m famished.”

Philip smiled and led the way into the restaurant, the host giving me a knowing smile as he led us to a table in the middle of the other diners. As soon as Philip saw our client, he rushed over to say hello, oozing his slimy charm, whilst I took my seat and waited for him to return.

The restaurant had tables dotted around the well-lit space with pristine white tablecloths that draped to the floor.  

“I just had to say hi to a client. I had no idea he’d be here tonight. We may have to take him for drinks later.”

I forced another smile. “I could think of better things for us to do, but if you’d prefer drinks with a client.”

Philip grinned. “What sort of things?”

I leaned forward and squeezed his thigh, sliding my hand up as high as I dared. “I think you can use your imagination.”

“Ah, fuck yeah.”

The waiter came and took our order and as we sipped champagne, ate our appetisers and started on our mains, I did my utmost to be charming, simpering and flirty as hell. As Philip dug into his steak, he sat back in his seat, and I noticed the epic bulge in his suit pants. I had him exactly where I wanted him.

“Oh no,” I said in my most dramatic voice as I knocked my spoon under the table. “Could you grab that for me?”

Philip rolled his eyes at my incompetence but got up from the table. “Any excuse to get between your legs.”

The moment I’d been waiting for had finally arrived.

Philip got down on his knees, his jacket straining against his biceps before he leaned forward under the table. As he pushed his ass back, there was a loud RRRRIIIIIPPPPPPPP and he immediately bolted upright, hitting his head on the table and sending my wine spilling over the white cloth.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I yelled, jumping to my feet.

All of the diners, including our client, had eyes on our table as I stood up and inspected the sight I’d been dreaming of, and it was even better than I planned. Philip’s suit pants had split straight down the rear seam, exposing the tiniest pair of tighty whities I’d ever seen. They barely covered his thick meaty cheeks, and the navy suit pants ripped even more as he backed out from under the table.

“Is everything okay?” the host asked as he rushed over.

“No, I ripped my damn pants and . . .”

I ignored Philip. “No, everything is not okay. This man is a pervert. He tried assaulting me under the table.”

“What?” Philip yelled, clutching at the back of his suit pants. “No, I didn’t.”

“Then how do you explain that?” I said, pointing at the outline of his still hard dick.

Philip released the back of his suit pants to try and hide his bulge, but I was on a roll. This was going better than I’d ever dreamed possible.

“Sir, I’m going to need you to stay here whilst I call the police,” the host said solemnly.

“You can’t. I didn’t . . . He was leading me on all night.”

At a nod from me, the host took a step back so he was slightly behind Philip.

“That’s a lie. I thought we were just having a business dinner.”

Another nod from me and the host grabbed the back of Philip’s ripped suit pants and yanked them off completely, leaving him totally exposed in his tighty whities, sheer socks and dress shoes.

“What the fuck?” he yelled.

“Oh my god. Look at him. He’s hard!”

Philip’s dick throbbed at my words, a dribble of precum soaking the skintight white material.

It was at this moment that I realised that he was getting off on this. The arrogant dick was into humiliation.

“I can’t believe I ever did business with you,” our biggest client said as he tossed his napkin on the table and stormed towards the door.

“Everyone can see you in your tighty whities, you loser,” I said in a quiet voice as I leaned towards him. “You look so fucking stupid.”

Philip’s eyes widened as his cock visibly throbbed again, but this time, it kept going.

“Oh, he’s going to finish right here in the restaurant,” the host gasped. “Please sir, you have to come to my office. This is inexcusable.”

Philip was frozen, hands at his sides, clenched into fists, his face beet red.

I stepped towards him and whispered in his ear. “Call this payback, you arrogant dick. Everyone can see that under those power suits, you’re just a tighty whities loser”

Philip’s eyes widened as his body tensed. “Oh fuck.”

I stepped back and watched as Philip’s dick erupted, cum soaking through the front of his tighty whities as he looked down in horror at his body betraying him. Cum oozed through his briefs, dripping on to his thighs and his dress shoes.

“I think you can pay the check. Have a good night.”

And with that, I left Philip Jennings in the middle of one of the poshest restaurants with diners laughing and taking photos of him covered in cum in his tighty whities.

Revenge was definitely the sweetest of desserts.