Bonus Package

"Can I get you anything?"

She is standing next to our table, one hand on her hip, the other holding her notepad, and is looking at us expectantly. Her eyes flick from me to Mom and back, waiting for our orders as if she had all the time in the world. I'm momentarily too transfixed to react; I'm still staring at her impossibly short skirt that seems to stop just below her crotch, her divine legs, and the way her uniform hugs her perfect upper body, naturally leading the eye up towards her sizeable cleavage.

"I'll have the club sandwich and a glass of water, thanks." Mom is evidently not fazed by our waitress's appearance. The waitress -- her nametag says "Lucy" -- turns and looks at me, pen at the ready. I quickly gather my thoughts and tell her I want the tuna platter and a soda. As she turns around to leave, though, the twirl of her skirt suddenly puts me in mind of an additional item. "Excuse me? Do you guys offer the bonus package here?" -- "Of course we do, hun," she winks at me. "Let me just get your drinks and then I'm all yours, alright?" I grin at her and turn to Mom, who is looking at me with mock anger. "Young man, you should consider yourself lucky I'm paying for this vacation. I guess you don't get to order the bonus package very often when you're out on your own. Just don't get too greedy, alright?" -- "Sure, Mom. And thanks again for the treat."

While we're waiting for Lucy to return, we talk about the sights we've seen so far on our trip to Sydney, as well as what we've got planned for today. It's still early, and we've got the whole day ahead of us, but I've already had a blast appreciating Sydney's beauties -- such as Lucy, who is just now returning with our orders.

She sets down our drinks, hitches up her skirt to reveal a beautiful, exposed little vulva with the tiniest of landing strips above it, and sits down on our table, spreading her legs wide so that I can enjoy the view.