As little as possible

As I finished standing, the waitress dropped my hand and ran it across my hard cock which was already threatening to push out the top of my pants. The touch of her nails on my dick, separated only by the thin layer of cloth was enough to make it throb and I swore I saw a dirty little smile cross her lips before she turned her back and lead me to the kitchen.

As we went, the waitress flipped the sign on the door from Open to Closed.

We crossed by the counter, went around to the swinging door next to the register, and just when I thought my cock couldn't get any harder, I was proven wrong.

I was greeted by the sight of a very tan brunette with short, punk rock hair, wearing well-used running shoes, a grease-stained apron, and nothing else. Her lithe frame flexed cat-like as she posed, the apron barely covering her from hip to hip, and only just covering her nipples with a generous amount of sideboob exposed. I couldn't help but think that if she stretched and rose her arms, her undoubtedly chocolate brown nipples and the ribbon of her pussy would be on display.

She licked her lips and grinned and then brandished her spatula in my direction.

"All right, mister, I'm not on the menu," she said teasingly. Her eyes raked up and down my body and she hummed her approval. The 5-foot-nothing cook turned back toward the grill, giving me an amazing view of her taut ass. It took me a full second to realize there were no tanlines; just smooth, golden brown skin.

Suddenly I realized how much I wanted them...how much I wanted both of them. Maybe I could get the incredible little Lulubelle back on the menu...