"Grab his cock."

"Grab his cock. Just..." Kim suppressed a bitchy giggle. "I'll give you $25 if you grab his cock. Just through the slacks. C'mon, what's there to lose? Oldest customer in here, oldest waitress in here..."

Emilia's jaw dropped. How the hell could her co-worker be... be trying to goad her into this?! "You want me to what?" she said, dumbfoundedly.

Kim rolled her eyes. "OK. Fifty bucks." This caused the bottle blonde to pause. That was a lot of money, and she had rent due, and had just paid for new headshots, and...

She looked left and right, leaning forward and hissing. "OK. But not a word to anyone else." She turned and about faced, mulling over what it was she was agreeing to do. He seemed a nice old man, and yeah, Hooters girls had a reputation... Heck, she could see it in the eyes of the next couple of tables who'd come in and she'd taken orders from. But was she really at the point she'd do this for $50?

As she looped back to the bar to collect Art's beer, she knew to her own disgust that she was. Hollywood had broken her down, and here she was, scrabbling for tips and for bets. Besides... wouldn't it make the old guy's day if she just, y'know, brushed his dick? She'd go up, make some flirty small talk, lightly brush it, move on. No big deal. Easy plan.

Wiggling over with the glass of beer, she slid into the booth beside Art again, huge smile plastered on her face. She could see Kim pretending not to watch over from near the bar. God, this was humiliating. Setting the beer on the table, she brought her hand up to the nape of Art's neck, feeling how dry and leathery his old skin was. "Sorry about the wait there, it's been getting real busy, but I wanted to make some time for you."

Art looked a little taken aback at how hard this girl a third of his age was flirting with him. "Well, uh... thank you very much, young lady."

"Emilia, please," she giggled, one hand twirling a blonde lock before she laid it on Art's bony knee.

The old man looked a little bemused and taken back. "Uh, listen, this is really very nice, but you know, you're too good for this place, you shouldn't have to be doing this to customers for tips." Emilia was taken aback. No one ever said that to her, all she got was rejections from auditions, and Kim being a bitch, and Monty and the customers ogling her; of course she was too good for it, so why was the only one recognising it some elderly geezer?

Seeing Kim just in her eyeline, she rallied. "Oh, I don't do this for every customer," she cooed, somewhat honestly. Some of the girls were this full-on, she'd restrained herself to maintain some level of decorum. "Just you." And she slid her hand from Art's knee to his crotch, knowing Kim was watching, knowing this'd win the bet. And her jaw immediately dropped.

Art looked into her eyes, seeing the poor girl looked a little off all of a sudden, even with the thrill of such a pretty girl grabbing his package. "Emilia, are you... are you OK?"

In truth, she was feeling a baffling mix of emotions, her hand still on Art's groin. It was enormous. Maybe it felt bigger because his withered old man pelvis and legs weren't so big, but it overflowed her hand, the balls full and heavy, the shaft... it was flaccid (no doubt, he wasn't going to so readily get an erection at his age) and it still felt like eight inches. This man was packing a hog. A truly enormous dick, wasted on an old man! She realised he was speaking, and inhaled slowly. "Sorry, it's just... I wasn't expecting to want your cock this badly." She yelped, pulling her hand from his neck and clapping it over her mouth. "Oh my god, why did I say that, I shouldn't just blurt out that I want to slurp on your hog!" Emilia's cheeks turned red and she could feel tears welling in her eyes. "I'm so sorry, I'm being so awful!"

Diplomatically, Art reached down, bony withered fingers peeling her hand off of his cock and holding it. "Look, Emilia, you're not being awful." His rheumy old eyes looked into hers. "Are you alright? Are you having a hard time?"

The English beauty nodded, not knowing what to do. "And you've been so very sweet, and you're so nice, and I've utterly blown it." She didn't know what was happening. What had she blown? This was an elderly customer! It's not like she was actually into him!

He nodded understandingly. "OK, look, I know these places ask you to flirt with the customers, so you don't have to grab my..." He coughed. "You know. Again."

"Oh no, I want to!" Emilia blurted out, turning beet red. "I'm sorry, I'm not normally like this."

"I'm sure," Art said drily. "Look, honey, I'm sure you've other customers, and I have a food order coming, right? So how about you go, take a second, and compose yourself, OK, beautiful? You've not spoiled anything, OK?" Humiliatingly, as he leaned forward to lower his voice, she inhaled his old man smell and her heart fluttered. Emilia, what the fuck is wrong with you? she admonished herself. "I really like you too."

She burst into genuine giggles, like a flustered schoolgirl, nodding. "OK, Art. I'll be right back with your cock... with your chicken!" Emilia stood up and walked away, as quickly as she could manage without looking panicked, sheltering at the bar.