Joyce, my alt-goth waitress

Growing up in the punk era I acquired a taste for alternative women who weren’t afraid of being “outcasts”, and even after turning thirty my tastes have not changed one bit. The rise of Gen Z e-Girls has done wonders for my fetish, giving me an entirely new group of sluts with skimpier outfits than ever, practically begging to be shown a good time.

In New York City, just about everywhere I looked there was at least one of these ‘e-girls’ walking the streets, shopping the bodegas or eating at a restaurant. Collars, fishnets, and eyeliner galore I was so horny, though my tight underwear helped keep my boner in check. Trying out a new spot for lunch, I walked in and grinned when I saw another one of these little sluts hopping around from table to table.

She was very short, about 5’2” if I had to guess, with strong legs and a curvy body. Her black leggings were already provocative enough, but paired with a pink crop featuring a plunging neckline it was almost out of this world. The little details actually got me the most excited: tattoos dotted around her arms and hands, half black, half bleach blonde hair, a studded choker and matching cuffs, with overly styled pink blush on her cheeks and nose, with pink and purple eyeshadow and heavy black cat eye eyeliner.

If this is what heavens like, Lord take me now. So caught up in my view of the waitress, the much less impressive hostess asked me for the basic info.

Not wanting to miss my moment, I was upfront about my intentions, and she didn’t seem to care. “Can I be seated in her section? I gotta see what’s up with that.” When the hostess answered back in the affirmative, she led me down the restaurant and into a booth, passing by my future waitress as she brought out someone else’s order.

Bending over to serve the guests behind me, I couldn’t help but stare at her spandex covered ass, going so far as to grope it before she finished with the other table. Assuming it was the high schooler to her right, she got in his face and started cussing him out. “What the fuck you little bitch!” The guests were appalled, asking for the manager to complain about such terrible service.

Absolutely devastated, the petite waitress ran back to the kitchen, trying to avoid smearing her makeup. On her way to the back I jerked the tears right out of her eyes when I reached out to grab her left arm, pulling the beautiful woman back to me. “Hi can I get a water and a menu please? Thanks sweet cheeks.” Before she could even process what just happened, I added to the confusion when I spanked her ass without a care in the world, gleefully watching it bounce through her thin leggings.

Jumping upright in shock, Joyce looked around to see if anyone noticed this sexual harassment, but all she caught was the frustrated eyes of the guests she’d wrongfully victimized. At a loss for words, the mystery waitress kept up her journey to the back like nothing happened. As an added bonus, I was able to get a glance at her nametag while I was trying to look at her chest.

Joyce was her name, and she was going to bring me a lot of joy.