Waiting

Okay my friends, this is a fantasy of mine that is only real in the dark folds of my mind.

I started waiting tables fresh out of high school. It was humiliating to work at such a lowly job in my own home town, but it was that or the Dollarama. My teachers could see that I had become the loser that they had predicted.

Karl was my first boss. He touched my ass every chance he could, even though his wife worked alongside me. Karl was the cook and manager of Ben's Diner.

"Helen! You see me pushing his hands away and you don't say anything? Doesn't it bother you that he is such a lecher?" I shouted at her, even though Karl could hear me.

"Ha! You just get him warmed up for me Ginny. He comes home all hot and ready for some hard sex from a real woman."

"You honestly don't hear how creepy that is?" I shouted back. "He's fucking you, while thinking about me."

The day when Helen suggested a three way was my last day.

My Aunt Cindy came through with the offer of a room in her small home in Baltimore. It wasn't free, but there are lots of diners in the big city, so we were both confident that I would be able to pay.

Working at Perkins, just off of the Interstate, was the perfect place to learn how to serve the public. They have busboys and a cashier-receptionist, so they emphasize friendly and accurate customer service. We were trained to memorize their orders and to pay careful attention to their every need. We didn't have to share our tips with the cooking staff, so I made enough cash in three days to pay my weekly rent.

Days went by and I learned to handle the orders without the slightest hesitation. They taught us to form memory chains to remember the orders. We learned to promote extras without being obvious.

"Excellent choice Miss. I love the prime rib with extra mushrooms, so I get the extra drippings to really soak my baked potato," I might passively muse, and they would follow my lead.

It wasn't all fun and games.

Perkins gets more than their fair share of Karens. It's like they know that we are defenseless against their angry barbs and humiliating claims.

Too hot. Too cold. Too runny. We waited too long. Service was too fast.

"I guess you do not care about my waist line!" One such Karen complained when she was offended by the excessive amount of french fries on her plate.

I thought to myself that she should have ordered a salad. I wanted to tell the fat bitch that the real problem was that she had no self discipline, but that would not have been okay to my manager.

"I'm sorry, Miss. Can we substitute anything for you? The steamed broccoli is local and quite tasty."

You learn to take the good with the bad. At least the Karens don't grope me, and they don't try to get a date or a phone number.

That's when I met Conrad. He looked so out of place with his purple cashmere sweater and Italian sandals. He was so smooth that he had my cell number and we had a date setup for the following Tuesday, my next day off.

I was pleased with my decision to wear my form fitting black dress and fake pearls, when my date arrived on time and dressed in a three piece suit.

Conrad picked me up in a 1964 Aston Martin. He claimed that James Bond drove a similar car, but I knew that he was a fictional character. The car was quite real though, and I loved the way I felt while zipping around the Baltimore streets.

Today, the big surprise was the destination. We were going to the most expensive restaurant in town, 'The Consolary'.

"Good Evening Mister Silvester. Good Evening Young Miss."

I was surprised when the valet knew Conrad by name, but the Maitre d' also came to attention as we approached him.

"Mister Silvester, what a pleasant surprise," the man blubbered as he tried harder to look competent. "I did not see your name on the reservation list..."

"It was a last second decision, Mr. Bower. We will do fine in the main hall," Conrad replied.

As we moved to a table, I realized that the waitresses were all topless and most of the customers were men.

I had never been in a topless club or a strip club of any kind, so it was a novelty to me. I didn't know where to look, but many of the people were staring at me as I sat among at least a dozen men.

Most of the customers were older men wearing expensive suits, while the wait staff were all gorgeous women, wearing silk stockings with lace panties and matching garter belts. Their 5 inch heels forced them to thrust their pelvis forward in a very sexy pose. They swung their hips when they walked, and, like a runway model, they stood straight, with their cute chins held high.

"Of course you may choose anything you fancy, my dear, but I recommend the salmon. It pairs well with a Chardonnay from my South African collection."

I simply nodded in acquiescence.

The ladies continued to give their utmost attention to their clients, while the men brazenly ogled their scantily clad bodies. I couldn't help but imagine myself doing their work. My tits are quite firm and certainly ample enough for the job. The fuck-me pumps would be my biggest hurtle... I mean, after I got past the humiliation of standing in such an exposed and vulnerable position.

The meal was fantastic, but I was constantly distracted by the interactions around me. I was at liberty to study these rich men as they were entranced by the breasts of the voluptuous women, and the implied promise of more fun?

As the evening continued, with lots of conversation and wine, the time passed us by.

"I'm sorry, Ginny, but I'm afraid that I've had a bit too much fun and far too much alcohol, so I will have to ask the Maitre d' to get you a towncar." Conrad informed me. "Unless, you would like to come up for a nightcap?"

I only gave it a moment's thought. The implication was that I could leave right after the drink, but we both knew where this could potentially go.

"One drink wouldn't hurt," I answered, thinking of how long it had been since I had enjoyed the intimacy of a good shagging.

Conrad was enough of a gentleman that he actually decanted an expensive bottle of wine, while I found a comfortable position on the couch in his bachelor pad.

"How would you like to work here, Ginny." Conrad asked, as he moved next to me on the couch.

"I am doing quite well at Perkin's, Conrad, and I don't think that I would be comfortable..." I started to explain my misgivings.

"Nonsense! Our ladies are making 500 plus tips, for a 6 hour shift." Conrad explained. "Most of that is cash, and you will have so many other opportunities."

He didn't explain the opportunity part, but I could imagine ways in which an enterprising young lady could find a bump in pay, after jiggling her tits at rich old men.

Conrad started to kiss me passionately, going from zero to frenzied in ten seconds. When my dress came off he was over the moon with praise for my fun bags.

"Damn girlfriend! Those topless ladies have nothing on you!"

I had never drawn a complaint so his glee was not a surprise to me. With my slender waistline, my jugs look almost too big to be real.

Conrad spent a lot of time studying for scars and imperfections. I didn't mind, since he used his tongue to examine everything that his eyes could see. My nipples quickly engorged themselves with blood making me ache for someone to suck on them. Conny must have sensed my need as he slipped one into his mouth and fondled the other with his hand. He flicked the nib with his tongue so many times that I could feel it getting irritated.

While he enjoyed my tits, my pussy felt neglected.

I brought my hands to my own hips and pulled my panties down.

"Fuck me daddy!" I cried, dipping two fingers into my slick muff. "Please make me cum."

I must have surprised him with my lust. Conrad fumbled and mishandled his own belt buckle.

"That's okay, hun," I whispered. "Let me strip you."

Conrad settled back with a sigh, letting me undo his slacks. He slipped out of his sandals, allowing me to shift his pants completely off of his legs. His shirt was open, revealing the grey hair on his chest. Finally, I pulled his boxers down to join his pants, and released his stiff cock.

He moaned as I took him into my mouth.

I swallowed as I pressed his cock head into the back of my throat, pulling it in another inch. My eyes watered up but the gag reflex was easily resisted. As I pulled back I could swirl my tongue back and forth but I could tell that he was going to burst very soon.

When he came I held steady and pulsed my tongue on the underside of his cock while he emptied his sack down my throat. I trailed the last of it back onto his cock so I could revive him for another fuck.

With his first load out of the way, Conrad was able to stay hard, fucking me for long enough for me to enjoy a deep orgasm.

We lay in each other's arms, post coitus.

"Do you really think that I compare to those other waitresses?" I murmured, but as I said it I knew that I would have to try it.

Conrad made all of the arrangements for me to do a training and assessment shift. I would wear the same skimpy outfit as any other server, with the exception that I wore a black bow tie to make me stand out as an observer. No one would expect me to know the menu or much about anything.

I got dressed up in Conny's suite. He stood by and suggested some lipstick on my nipples, to match my lips. I had never tried it, but it sounded intoxicating. I let Conny apply my Chanel #7 to my areola.

I was incredibly horny before he got to the second nipple, but I had to bite my lip and gain control over my libido.

They have a small room for the other ladies to change, but I had to come down in the hotel elevator. Six others got on the lift at various floors and it felt like every one of them was staring at my nipples. I forced myself to keep my head up, looking above every head.

"Is this one of those Playboy Bunny Hotels?" One woman asked her husband but he just shushed her, and I wasn't going to say a word.

It was just me and that spot on the elevator wall.

It did not get much easier in the restaurant. The hands were constantly resting where they did not belong, like the curve of my ass or the inside of my thigh.

"I'll go to 5 big ones for 30 minutes with the first-timer." One geezer growled while puffing on a thick cigar.

It took me a second to realize that he was offering five hundred dollars for a half hour of my time! Did he think that I was a virgin or was it the bow tie?

The Maitre d' gently moved Mister Kingsley's hand, but he did not scold the lecher.

"I'm sorry Mister Kingsley, but you know we have to keep it sociable on the main dining floor. If you would like some company, Miss Gloria would be happy to service you in room 562."

The guy nodded and changed his course to the elevators. I wondered about Miss Gloria on the 5th floor.

"Ginny, could you please take Mister and Misses Robertson to table 17."

"Yes sir. Please walk this way Monsieur and Madam.

I consulted my mental map and headed down the left hall, confident that my patrons would follow me.

When we arrived at the proper table I swung to the left with the intent of sweeping my arm to the right to indicate their table. Unfortunately, Mr. Robertson was so close to me that he had to bring his hands up to stop us from colliding. His hands were now comfortably holding my tits!

I just stood there, in shock I suppose, though having my tits out in the open was so far beyond the norm for me that my usual sensitivity was blurred.

The regular waitress took over from there, but later she came back to me for a conversation that surprised me.

"Hey Hun, I'm Trish. What's your I. D. number?" the topless server asked me.

"You get a fifty dollar bounty whenever someone touches your tits, Girlfriend, and that guy ripped the lipstick right off of you!"

I looked down and saw the lipstick smears on both breasts.

"Shit," I muttered.

"Oh, that happens all of the time, dear. Let me show you what to do." Trish spouted with enthusiasm.

Trish wet both of her thumbs with her tongue, then she brought them to my nipples. Soon she was spreading the bit of color from the smear, all over my breasts, making them very slightly pink. I stared into her eyes as she adjusted my makeup.

"They can touch your ass or your thigh for free, but it costs them dearly if they go under the panties." Trish gave me the inside track.

"What happens in room 562?" I asked my new friend.

"Well, that depends on what the client wanted and how much Vivian can get out of him."

So that explained how they were making so much money.

"Of course, most of us have our regulars. Mostly single men, but some married couples pay for some extra love.

"During the day we entertain lawyers and judges and some of the top law enforcement men in the tri-state area." Trish explained. We have parties in private rooms, of course and every woman is free to negotiate any deal they think they can make."

At the end of my six hours of unpaid observations I returned to Conrad's suite.

My nipples were incredibly sensitive from being constantly aroused.

"Tell me what you think, Ginny."

"Well... I would assume that condoms are a must," I started. "And I would insist on being safe from, you know, unpaid advances."

"Did they tell you about the house cut?" He asked me.

"They said that the House gets 30 percent? Is that right?" I asked.

"Generally that is true, dear, though you must pay the first two thousand into an escrow account, in case of any legal problems. Then they will transfer the remainder to whatever account number that you provide."

"Okay, Ginny. You start this morning at 11. Main dining rooms, section 3 and the bar. If someone wants some action, you must direct them to one of the girls that are on standby upstairs. You can make arrangements for later, but any time you are serving you must get a replacement before you go upstairs yourself."

The so called Employee Dressing Room had 24 very small lockers in front of a five foot locker room bench. No makeup table, No water source or drain.

I stuffed my jacket into a clean bag and then into a locker. I hadn't brought a purse, so I trusted the world not to rip off my cheap jacket.

"Ginny, would you show Mr. Ferguson and his guest to table 5 and take care of their every need." The Maitre d' smoothly commanded me.

And so started my career as a topless waitress.