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Message-ID: <36628asstr$1022451006@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: dancing.sprite@gmx.net (Dancing Sprite)
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NNTP-Posting-Date: 26 May 2002 17:09:36 GMT
Subject: {ASSM} Wicked Waitress (MF cons)
Date: Sun, 26 May 2002 18:10:06 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This story contains explicit descriptions of sexual acts and may 
not be legal for you to read or possess because of your age or 
location. It is your responsibility to know the laws of your 
jurisdiction and act accordingly.

This story is a work of fiction. Any similarities with real 
persons or events are purely coincidental.

Copyright (C) 2002 Dancing Sprite. All rights reserved.

Permission is granted to distribute this story anywhere on the 
Internet, provided
(a) you do not make any modifications to the story
(b) you do not remove or alter the copyright notice and the
    author's email address
(c) you do not charge readers to access this story
(d) you send me an email and tell me where you posted it

Feedback is most welcome! Please take a moment and let me know 
what you think about this story. To contact me, send your email 
to dancing.sprite@gmx.net
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Wicked Waitress

by Dancing Sprite <dancing.sprite@gmx.net>


Jack Talbot inspected his face in the mirror and smiled. A 
genuine, honest smile. Life was good to him now. On the brink of 
bankruptcy only two weeks ago, the deal he was about to close 
with Zorin Industries would save his small company. Just a few 
details needed to be sorted out and he'd hold the signed contract 
in his hands by the end of the week.

He adjusted his tie for the third time in two minutes and smiled 
again. Saved! He had saved his company. Was about to save his 
company, he corrected himself. The contract wasn't signed yet.

Right, he thought, back to work!

He pulled the door open and stepped out of the men's room into 
the narrow hallway that led from the restaurant to the restrooms 
and the kitchen. Jack had been surprised when Mr Kilton had 
suggested the small Five Oaks Grill & Bar on the outskirts of 
town for their meeting. But Mr Kilton was the guy who'd sign the 
contract; he would have agreed to meet him in Greenland if that's 
where he wanted to meet.

Jack saw the wisdom of the choice, though. The food was 
excellent, the place was quiet and comfortable, and wasn't 
usually frequented by the business crowd, so his meeting with Mr 
Kilton and Miss Miles, his assistant, wouldn't be the subject of 
his peers' gossip.

He walked along the corridor casually and allowed his thoughts to 
wander. Miss Miles. Her stunning body and elegant dress, her 
quick wit and sexy smile had fascinated him. He fantasized what 
it would be like to take her in his arms and kiss her and undress 
her and . . .  But that would be unprofessional.

Keep your hands off your customers, his mentor had warned him 
time and again. There were three billion women in the world, he 
had told him, don't mess with your customers. Jack smiled as he 
remembered the one time he had pointed out that not all of these 
three billion women were available, while his customers were. The 
result had been a 20-minute lecture on professionalism that had 
left his ears ringing.

Jack had followed his mentor's advice. Reluctantly at first, but 
over the years he had come to agree that he had been right. He 
had seen many consultants whose affairs with customers had cost 
them dearly in terms of lost contracts and cancelled accounts. 
Jack was determined to keep his distance from Miss Miles.

"Watch out!" A high-pitched female voice interrupted his reverie. 
Just as he was about to round the corner and walk back into the 
restaurant, a waitress came from the opposite direction. 
Fortunately she wasn't carrying anything, or their collision 
would have caused a major mess.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, highly embarrassed. "I was 
daydreaming. You're not hurt, are you?" Jack sized her up quickly 
while she took half a step back. Her outfit was standard for 
waitresses in this kind of restaurant -- white blouse, black 
skirt, black stockings -- except for her tight miniskirt, which 
ended about four inches below the voluptuous curve of her ass. He 
remembered seeing her in the restaurant, but had been too busy to 
pay her any attention.

"I'm okay, no problem," she said softly and smiled, her pale blue 
eyes sparkling with amusement.

Jack relaxed. No damage done. "I'm sorry," he said again and 
returned her smile. He was about to step around her when all of a 
sudden he felt her hand between his legs. His eyes went wide and 
his smile faded instantly, but he was too shocked to move. Her 
hand rubbed up and down his dick, gave it a final squeeze and 
retreated. Then the waitress walked past him with a little finger 
wave and disappeared around the corner in the direction of the 
kitchen.

Jack was horrified. He took a deep breath and willed his dick to 
relax, but it kept growing. He stared in disbelief at the bulge 
it was making in his pants and frantically considered his 
options. Walking through the restaurant like this was out of the 
question. And what about Miss Miles? If she thought he was hot 
for her . . . And what would Mr Kilton think? Sprouting an 
erection during a business meeting! No doubt he'd question his 
professionalism.

The consequences were too horrible to contemplate. The contract 
he had worked so hard for . . . His company, whose very existence 
depended on it . . . Bankruptcy . . . All because of a stupid 
waitress playing stupid games!

Jack turned on his heels and walked back to the men's room. He'd 
jerk off and return to their table looking . . . professional. 
Too bad he had to keep them waiting, but apologizing for the 
delay would be a lot easier than explaining an obvious bulge in 
his pants.

He pushed the door to the men's room open and froze in mid-
stride. His jaw dropped and his emotions went from shock to anger 
to naked animal lust in less than a second.

"What took you so long?" the waitress asked as the door fell shut 
behind him. She was leaning against the opposite wall right next 
to the paper towel dispenser, her blouse unbuttoned down to her 
bellybutton, one foot against the wall and her leg turned 
outward, her miniskirt stretched tightly around her slender legs.

Her exposed tits attracted his gaze like a magnet. He watched 
with rapt attention as she squeezed them lightly with her hands 
and pinched her nipples, making them stand up proudly. His dick 
throbbed painfully in his pants, reminding him why he had come 
back to restroom in the first place.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" he demanded. His anger 
at her for jeopardizing his contract with Mr Kilton, his very 
future, was gaining the upper hand over his lust, at least 
temporarily.

She glanced at the bulge in his pants and gave him a bright 
smile, whose apparent innocence was in odd contrast to her 
posture. "You were going to jack off, weren't you?"

Jack was too flabbergasted to reply. She took his silence to mean 
Yes and pulled her skirt up slowly, revealing the creamy skin of 
her thighs above the top of her stockings.

Jack gasped and stared at her crotch as the hem of her skirt slid 
farther up until her naked pussy was completely exposed. No more 
than five feet in front of him, her shaved pussy lips were red 
and swollen and slightly parted. He watched in disbelief as she 
bunched her skirt around her hips and slid one hand towards her 
pussy.

"Come on! This is a lot better than jacking off!" The waitress 
smiled her sexy smile again, a trace of mockery creeping into her 
pale blue eyes now. She looked him straight in the eyes while she 
toyed with the tiny triangle of dark blond pubic hair that seemed 
to point the way to the promised land.

Jack was dumbstruck. All he could do was stare at her hand as her 
bright pink fingernails edged closer to her labia and her middle 
finger finally disappeared between them. Did she really expect 
him to screw her right here? "What if somebody comes in?" He 
almost choked on his question.

The waitress just shrugged her shoulders and pushed her middle 
finger into her pussy past the second knuckle. "They'll have to 
stand in line. Now fuck me before your dick rips a hole in your 
pants."

That would be fun to explain to Mr Kilton and his assistant, Jack 
thought and laughed despite his anger at her. His daze broken, he 
quickly unzipped his pants and freed his aching dick. She had 
caused the problem, he rationalized, so why shouldn't she solve 
it? Besides, she clearly wanted to get fucked.

The waitress wrapped her arms around his neck as soon as he 
stepped forward. She pulled herself up until her pussy was level 
with his dick and looked him in the eyes. "Now we're getting 
somewhere," she purred. "Stick it in!"

Jack would have preferred to drag her into one of the stalls, but 
his need to get off was so urgent by now that he really didn't 
care where they did it. He maneuvered his dick until the head 
found the entrance to her well-lubricated vagina, then drove it 
all in with one hard thrust of his hips.

"Yeah!" the waitress hissed. "Fuck me!" Squeezed between Jack's 
body and the wall, she wrapped her legs around his waist and took 
his dick as deep as she could.

As soon as her tight pussy enveloped the entire length of his 
dick and squeezed it like a velvet glove, Jack lost his self-
control rapidly. He jerked his hips back and forth furiously, 
thrusting into her with hard and fast strokes that made her moan 
each time their hips collided. He wanted to come as soon as 
possible and didn't care if she would climax or not. Stupid 
chick, he thought, shouldn't have messed with me in the first 
place.

He didn't bother to warn her before he came, but she was ready in 
any case. When his dick expanded slightly in her tight pussy and 
released the first spurt of cum into her, she exploded in an 
orgasm of her own. She buried her face in his shoulder to stifle 
her screams of pleasure and jerked her hips repeatedly while her 
pussy muscles squeezed the cum out of his dick.

Jack held her against the wall and pulled his dick out of her 
pussy as soon as his orgasm subsided and his breathing returned 
to normal. He yanked a paper towel out of the dispenser and wiped 
the juices off his dick while the waitress was still leaning 
against the wall, enjoying the last waves of pleasure that 
radiated out from her hot pussy and raced through her body. He 
stuffed his deflating dick back into his pants and zipped up, 
smiling for the first time since his fateful collision with her. 
On the way out he stopped briefly in front of the mirror and 
adjusted his tie.

By the time he reached his table, his optimism had returned. "My 
apologies for taking so long," he excused himself as he sat down. 
"I had a little problem back there."

Miss Miles raised an eyebrow inquisitively.

"Well, in case you're curious," Jack smiled sheepishly, "my 
shirttail got stuck in my zipper and I had one heck of a hard 
time freeing it."

Mr Kilton smiled briefly, but didn't seem very interested in his 
explanation. "Whatever. You solved the problem, that's all that 
counts." He shuffled his papers around and glanced at his notepad 
briefly. "We're about done anyway. I have only one minor point to 
discuss and then we're ready to sign your contract day after 
tomorrow."

Jack Talbot suppressed a violent urge to jump up and dance around 
the restaurant with joy.

He had done it! He had saved his company!


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Copyright (C) 2002 Dancing Sprite. All rights reserved.

Permission is granted to distribute this story anywhere on the 
Internet, provided
(a) you do not make any modifications to the story
(b) you do not remove or alter the copyright notice and the
    author's email address
(c) you do not charge readers to access this story
(d) you send me an email and tell me where you posted it

Feedback is most welcome! Please take a moment and let me know 
what you think about this story. To contact me, send your email 
to dancing.sprite@gmx.net
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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