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Today's special is: the waitress

Alone in a strange town and I'm not going to pay for sex, so...
I don't mind travelling on business. A few days away from home, minimal luggage, decent hotel. I don't even mind eating alone in restaurants. A couple of glasses of wine, sit back and watch the world go by. And that was exactly what I was doing here in Trinidad.

The staff are all very friendly, mainly nice-looking black girls. I think I'm the only white man in the hotel. Now, I don't know if it's just me, but I don't think I'm ever going to pull a receptionist. Maybe it's the barrier of that high desk between us.

But in the restaurant, a friendly waitress - that's a different matter. This girl is not very professional. She's cheeky, chatty, not flirty exactly, but there is little sense of customer/staff distance. She's 20 years younger than me, but stranger things have happened. To use a sports expression, play the match, not the occasion. Don't try too hard, just be yourself and see if she goes for it.

She's not beautiful, either, but she's perfectly presentable, and that's fair enough - it's how I would describe myself. She's full-bodied, like many Caribbean women. Big breasts, a bit of a stomach, fat bottom, meaty legs. Pretty face but she probably doesn't like her mouth: her chin is slightly prominent and she has a gap between her front top teeth. But you know what they say about gap-toothed women.

'I would recommend the pasta,' she says, uninvited. 'It's kind of rich and creamy. I like it.'

'Okay. What about a glass of wine?' I say, smiling at her.

'Can't,' she says, 'I'm working.'

'For me,' I explain. 'What reds have you got by the glass?'

'Merlot and Cabernet Sauvignon,' she says. She's got a slight lisp, 'I'd have the Merlot.'

'I'll try the Cabernet Sauvignon,' I say.

'Okay ,' she says, and sashays away to the kitchen.

I check my email on my phone and she floats past a few times, glancing at me with a sort of insolence. She brings me the wine.

'One glass of Merlot,' she says, putting it on the table and resting her fingers on the base.

I put my fingers on hers and say, 'I asked for the Cabernet Sauvignon.'

'So you did,' she says with a half smile. 'Want me to change it? This is better.'

'I'll have this since it's here,' I say. To be honest, I can't tell the difference. It's either okay or it's not.

'Good boy,' she says. 'Mummy knows best.' She removes her fingers and swans off again.

Eventually she returns with my food, placing it on the table and leaning with her hand just touching mine as I feel the napkin.

'Is this what you ordered?' she asks wearily.

'Looks like it,' I say. She quickly dips a finger in the sauce and licks it off.

'Yes. Just right,' she says. 'Shit, it's been a long day.'

'Nearly finished,' I say encouragingly.

'Then I've got a one-hour drive home,' she sighs. 'Enjoy.'

'I would like another glass of wine in four and a half minutes' time,' I call after her. She looks at her watch and keeps walking.

Shortly afterwards she appears with two plates for another table and, as she passes, she says, 'I'll be back in two and a half minutes with your wine.'

And she is.

'If you don't want to drive, you can stay in my room,' I say.

'Against the rules,' she says, and goes off to think about it.

I read the BBC news on my phone and get engrossed in a cricket report. England are playing Australia. I ask for the bill and she returns with it quickly. My right hand is lying palm-upwards and she rests hers on my fingertips. I raise my middle finger and run it along the ridge of her hand. She wraps her fingers around it and lets it slide slowly out. I pay her by credit card, sign the receipt and stand up.

'What room number?' she asks without expression.


'I'll be about an hour,' she says.

Up in the room, I think about having a shower, but I had one before dinner, so I decide I'll be okay, but I wash the head of my dick just in case. Then I turn on the TV and watch some American cop show.

The waitress arrives at 11:05. I get her a glass of water, which she drinks standing up. She puts the glass down and we kiss. My right hand wanders down to her skirt and I put my lucky old middle finger between her legs. It is hot down there and she backs away.

'Would it be possible for me to have a shower?' she asks.

'Of course,' I say. She puts her arms around my neck and kisses me quickly, her tongue licking my lips.

While she is in the shower I undress and get into bed, leaving just the desk light on. She only takes a minute and doesn't seem surprised to find me where I am. She's got a towel wrapped around her like a short dress - one of those things women do that make me feel newly aware of the difference between the sexes. Organising their hair behind their head with a scrunchy or a rubber band or even a biro, without looking - that's another thing I like.

She hasn't washed her hair and I can smell the kitchen in it as she climbs in beside me and settles on her back.

'What's your name?'


'Yooneeta,' I ask, to verify.

'Yes. You're Chris, right?'

'You smell good enough to eat,' I say.

'Then eat me,' she says, not so much playfully as authoritatively. I kiss her long and slow, put my tongue in her ear and kiss the side of her neck. Then I suck her nipples, which she really enjoys, before moving over to her armpits. She is slightly taken aback, but relaxes when she remembers she has just showered and I obviously like what I'm doing. I lick her left armpit as if it were her vagina, and she rolls her hips around.
Her hands are on my head as I slide further down and kiss her pussy lips, her clitoris and lick her crotch.

'Don't tease me, Chris,' she says crossly. 'Fucking lick me.'

I part her labia with my thumbs and lick her slowly and deeply. She abandons herself to my marauding face and her juices flow onto my tongue. Her stuff is like the pasta sauce: rich and creamy. She's on my chin, on my cheeks, on my nose.

'Turn over,' I say. 'I want to kiss your back.'

She obliges and I start at her neck, then run my tongue down her spine all the way to her bottom. She kneels up obligingly and I return to her pussy from behind. This means my nose is near her other hole, which seems nice too, so I decide to see if she'll let me lick it. She arches her back further, her face in the pillow.

'Fuck, yes,' she exhales. 'I love your tongue in my asshole. Fucking lick my asshole, Chris. I'm gonna cum.'

And she does cum, with an extended whimper.

'Now fuck me,' she orders. 'Fuck my pussy from behind.'

I get up behind her and slam my cock into her waiting entrance and we hump in a way that must have given rise to the use of the word 'hump' to describe it in the first place. She cums again.

'I'm going to cum too,' I say urgently.

'Not inside me,' she pleads. 'In my mouth.'

She rolls over and I straddle her chest. She kisses my scrotum and I masturbate, but only for a few seconds, because then it's coming and I press my cock into her mouth and shoot my semen there.

It makes me laugh, cumming, and I'm sort of chuckling as I lie down.

'What's funny?' she demands.

'I'm just happy,' I say. 'I'm glad you were on my menu tonight.'

'Well it was very nice serving you,' she replies.
This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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