I need a job that isn't retail because retail makes me want to die so when this sports bar near campus was hiring waitresses I applied. It's one of those places where the girls wear tiny shorts and tight tops and the whole point is guys come in to stare at your tits while they eat wings. You know the type. I figured perfect, I already like attention and I have the body for it.
Quick thing about me. I'm kind of the alt girl. Black hair, dark makeup, dark nails, mostly wear black when I'm not in uniform. No tattoos or piercings, just the aesthetic. I've got big tits though, like really big for my frame, and in the uniform top they're basically on a shelf. My manager told me on day one that I'd "do well here" and she was looking directly at my chest when she said it.
She was right. I made insane tips. Partly because I'm good at my job but mostly because I learned fast that if I leaned over a little longer clearing plates or "accidentally" brushed a guy's arm while setting his beer down, the tip went up. Some nights I'd let guys get a little handsy. A squeeze on my ass when I walked by, a hand on my lower back that drifted down, one regular used to palm my tit when he hugged me goodbye and leave a fifty on the table. I know how that sounds. I don't care. College is expensive and my tits pay better than my brain apparently.
Then there was this one guy. Came in on a Tuesday. Older, maybe mid-thirties, nice watch, nice shoes, sat alone at a booth and ordered a steak and a whiskey neat. He wasn't loud or grabby like most of the guys. Just calm. Watched me walk back and forth with this steady look that made my pussy warm every time I passed his table. He tipped me forty on a sixty dollar tab and when I came to clear his plate he leaned in and said "I could help you out a lot more if you meet me in the family bathroom in five minutes."
I stood there holding his plate and my heart was pounding and my clit was throbbing and my brain was saying this is insane and my body was saying go. I went back to the kitchen, set the plate down, told another girl I was taking a quick break, and walked to the family restroom at the end of the hall.
He was already inside. Locked the door behind me. Pulled out a hundred dollar bill and held it up and said "suck my cock and this is yours."
I got on my knees on the tile floor in my little uniform shorts and looked up at him and pulled his cock out. He was thick, long, bigger than most guys I've been with, and already hard. I wrapped my lips around the head and started sucking him slow, running my tongue along the underside, tasting salt and clean skin. His hand went to the back of my head, not pushing, just resting, and he said "good, just like that." I took him deeper, letting spit build up until it was dripping down his shaft onto my hand. My pussy was soaked. My shorts were sticking to me. I was sucking a stranger's cock on my knees in a restaurant bathroom and I was wetter than I'd been in months.
He pulled me up by my arm. Spun me around. Bent me over the sink and I grabbed the edges with both hands and looked up into the mirror. He pulled my orange shorts and underwear down to my thighs in one motion and I felt the head of his cock press against my pussy from behind. Hot. Thick. He pushed in slow, one long stroke, stretching me open, and I watched my own face in the mirror as my mouth fell open and my eyes went glassy.
He fucked me hard. Gripping my hips, slamming into me, the sink rattling against the wall with every thrust. I could hear the wet slapping sound of his pelvis against my ass and I was biting my lip trying not to moan because there were customers twenty feet away on the other side of that door. He grabbed a fistful of my black hair and pulled my head back so I had to look at myself in the mirror and said "you know you're a whore right." I nodded. He fucked me harder. My tits were bouncing in my tight uniform top and he was watching them in the mirror and his strokes got faster and rougher until he buried himself deep and came inside me. I felt every pulse. Warm, filling me up, his cock twitching while his grip on my hair slowly loosened.
He pulled out. I felt his cum start to drip down my inner thigh. He pulled my shorts back up for me, patted my ass, and said "get back to work." Then he folded something and tucked it into my top between my tits.
I locked the bathroom door after he left and looked at it. Five hundred dollars wrapped around a business card. I cleaned myself up, wiped his cum off my thigh with toilet paper, fixed my hair in the mirror, and walked back onto the floor. His table was already empty. I finished my shift with his cum slowly soaking into my underwear and five hundred dollars in my bra and I smiled at every single customer for the rest of the night.
I still have his business card in my nightstand drawer. Haven't called it yet. But I keep looking at it.
Comments