Back to work

"Faye! Goddammit, table 8 has been waiting for 5 minutes!" Dale said, seeing her reenter the serving area. She shrugged, her mind still swimming from the orgasm. Her legs were still a little shaky, but when she picked up the order pad and made her way around the bend, she was able to hide everything but her still flushed chest and neck. Two men were at the table. She saw that the group of elderly men had left. Ronnie hadn't even bussed it.

She looked at her new customers. Typical 30-something business types on their lunch break. Faye took a deep breath, and slid onto the closest one's lap. "So sorry for your wait." she said, putting her arm around him, and giving him an ample view of her cleavage. He was handsome and well groomed, and completely speechless.

"Ohh..umm...hi! Umm...yes..." he said. "A diet...diet coke." he stammered. Faye could feel him hardening beneath her. She slid out, and was waiting for him to back his chair up so she could sit on his lap. He was obviously nervous, hunched slightly forward in the universal "I've got an erection" posture she'd seen so many times before.

"Uh, same for me. Thanks." he said before she could sit. Faye smiled at him, and wrote down their drinks. Four hours later, Faye smiled at Dale, who was looking through her survey cards. Ronnie would glance over at her from time to time. She regretted that she had given in to him so easily, but she had just been fucked by three different strangers moments before. No telling what the fat prick would dream up with a month to think about it. What's more, she couldn't risk getting caught at work, but there was no way in Hell she was going to go over whatever shithole of a house he had. He wasn't exactly serial killer material, but he'd definitely have hidden cameras and a variety of things he'd buy from the bargain bin at the local sex shop, she was sure. She'd have to think of something.

"I can't fuckin' believe it. Twelve surveys, all 5 out of 5. I don't know what you did, but keep doin' it." Dale said. She shrugged, and walked out of his office. She didn't have to go nearly as far with any of her other customers, but quite a few got more than a handful of some part of her anatomy. She'd been touched, groped, spanked, and had several numbers slipped in with her tips; which much to her delight added another $64 to her purse.

She had to admit, she was good at this. Perhaps it was the beauty pageants her mother used to enter her into when she a child. She got used to being surveyed and sexualized by men much older than she was. Or perhaps it was that she'd not exactly been easy in high school, but had ended up in a few back seats and frat house bedrooms in her days. She didn't know. Or perhaps, she had to admit to herself, maybe she just enjoyed it.

She was halfway home when she heard the first wolf whistle from a passing car. She glanced over at a car full of teenagers. "Nice legs!" one of them said. It was then that Faye realized that, being lost in her thoughts, she was still wearing her Knockers outfit. Her pale face turned deep red. It was 5pm. She couldn't walk too fast or her black and green plaid skirt might catch a breeze and give the commuters a real reason to catcall her, but she also didn't want to be outside in this get up when the elderly bums and hobos crawled out of their boxes for the evening. She shuddered to think who would happen if some of the drunks and deadbeats from the soup kitchen saw her in a schoolgirl skirt without any panties...

Just then, a car honked. Faye turned to see who it was.