Hooters!

Margaret hadn't had dinner yet, and she'd had a very active day... "Hooters it is," she decided.

The restaurant wasn't very busy tonight. Margaret wasn't surprised to see she was the only lone female customer. Mostly trucker types here, a few college guys, and one couple on what looked like a first -- and probably last -- date. What sort of idiot brought a girl here, unless she was bi and enjoyed the view? It was clear from the woman's face that she didn't fit into that select category.

"Can I get y'all anything to drink?" A bored-looking waitress interrupted Margaret's train of thought.

"What?" she finally asked.

"Ah'm Lulu an' ah'll be y'all's server t'night," the waitress repeated. "Can ah get y'all somethin' to drink?"

"Root beer," Margaret replied, while thinking "your gushing pussy." The waitress wasn't anything special from the neck up -- bleach-blonde hair with dark roots showing, watery blue eyes, a nose just a bit too big... nice full lips, though -- but oh, what a body! D-cup breasts strained against her t-shirt emblazoned with the restaurant's owl logo, and a perfect peach of an ass did wonderful things to her bright orange shorts. Tanned, muscular legs just screamed "cheerleader."

"You're totally hot for me, you dyke slut," Margaret thought. "Take me into the bathroom and fuck me silly. Oh, and fix up that accent."