Finishing

A/N: My first submission to Literotica, can't wait to hear what people think! Still figuring out the formatting, so apologies for errors. - E.

*****

It's a fairly busy night - not absolutely crazy, but enough to keep me on my feet. Just enough that my cheeks are rosy from running between tables, fetching drinks, scribbling orders, balancing hot plates and cold glasses with steady hands. There's music on, and so there's a spring in my step, a half-twirl when I turn, the occasional lyric sung along under my breath before I turn and greet the next customer with a smile. I love waitressing, always have.

~

-Why?

There's a certain flow to it. And when I do a good job, I get tips - what's not to like?

- So you don't mind drunk people bossing you around?

They're not so bad. It's fun when they try and flirt.

- Oh is it?

Well... yes, I mean...

- Do go on sweetheart.

It's nice to be looked at.

- I bet you are looked at.

... sometimes. Not as often as I'd like. But I think about it anyway, I imagine people looking, that they think about me.

- Oh but you're blushing - do you enjoy it that much when they watch you? When you tease them?

Yes.

- Of course you do darling. Don't be embarrassed. You're gorgeous, and I already know that mind of yours is a lot dirtier than you pretend.

I don't want to... I mean, I just want them to watch, nothing else.

- Yes I know. Because you don't belong to them, do you sweetheart?

~

You came in an hour ago, and all you've done is watch. Not even a word when you order, just a smile as you point at the menu, your eyes locked on mine. Locked on me. As I flit through the crowded pub, I can feel your eyes on me - no, actually feel your gaze. It tickles the arch of my throat as I reach up for a wine glass, toys with the strand of hair I keep tucking behind my ear, nips at my earlobe and lingers on the line of my back. I'm conscious of everywhere fabric touches my skin: skirt brushing thighs, apron string cinching waist, panties rubbing against throbbing clit.

- yes just there please don't stop oh please, please, please don't stop -

My mind has plenty to work with, and by the time I return with your drink, I'm ready to leave. It's been a long week, work has kept us both too busy to play, something I am now urgently reminded of. I pause in front of you, glancing at the clock. Three more hours.

"I could say I have a headache. We could... go home."

My tone is hopeful, but you simply give me a benevolent smile, and take a sip of your drink, eyes slowly tracing a line from my collarbone down the edge of my shirt, lingering there to lazily undo its buttons. I fidget on the spot, clutching my tray.

"Please."

More urgently now. Your eyes flit to the clock, then back to me, and you smile again.

Not yet, my darling.

Two hours left, and I gulp down a large glass of water in the kitchen, momentarily taking shelter. The initial arousal has abated slightly, but is still simmering, and frustration has come to keep it company. My mind is cycling through various stages of petulant want - I need to cum and he knows that I haven't since Thursday - desperate solutions - I could say I have a headache anyway, or break a glass, or just go to the bathroom for ten minutes - rebellious stubbornness - I'll show him, I'll fucking show him how good I can be; and pure, skin-tingling lust.

I empty a second glass, then head into the ladies' room. The uniform decrees black tights with the skirt, but I kick off my shoes and remove them, leaving my legs bare. A moment's hesitation, and my panties follow suit.

Two can play this game.

With my heart beating in my chest I leave the restroom, tights stuffed in my locker, panties tightly furled in my hand. You look a little bit surprised as I approach you, and I can hear the sharp intake of breath as I press the soaked piece of fabric into your palm.

That sound is worth every minute of suffering so far.

Without looking back, I turn and walk away from you. The rest of that hour flies by as I devote myself to my work, waiting on my guests' every whim, bending over just a tiny bit too far as I wipe the tables, leaning in a bit too closely when delivering checks, nibbling on my pencil as I take orders. Your gaze has turned from hot to scorching, and it is forty-five minutes to closing time when I know I have succeeded.

"Time to go."

I straighten up from cleaning a table and give you a triumphant smile. "But my shift isn't finished ye-"

"Now."

Oh holy sweet mother of god.

I make my excuses, quickly, too quickly, and I know the manager isn't convinced. It's no wonder, I'm a terrible liar at the best of times. Untying my apron I hurry back to the changing rooms, but have hardly started unbuttoning my shirt before the door opens again. You close it behind you, and in two quick steps you cross the small space, crowding me against a locker.

"So did you enjoy that then my darling?" You are close enough that I can feel your hot breath when you speak, but we are not touching, not yet.

I can't help it, the smile on my face is pure triumphant glee at having teased you this far, and I nod a breathy assent.

"I did, yup. It was very fun." My hands come up to touch your face, your neck, to draw you in for that kiss I know we're both aching for, but your words freeze them mid-air.

"Hands down, now. You don't get to touch me yet."

A strained little sound escapes me, and my hands fall down to my sides as you lean in, speaking so closely to my ear that it only takes a whisper.

"That's right sweetheart, you've had your fun, and I am just going to remind you what you get for fucking teasing me like that."

Your hand slides up my thigh, and I almost feel my knees buckle as your fingertips trace the lips of my pussy, unshielded by the usual fabric. It feels divine, and as you rub up across my clit I actually whimper, leaning closer against you.

Your fingers move away immediately.

"Stay fucking still. No moving, you hear me baby?" Your voice is more of a growl, and only when I back up against the cold metal of the locker do your fingers pick up their slick, torturously slow pace again. "You will stay still just like this, and I will play with my pussy, and watch you love every fucking second of it."

I draw in a shaky breath, doing my best to stay upright on my wobbly legs. Fuck it feels good; each swipe of your fingers sends a shiver of fiery pleasure through me. And, of course, you have started talking to me, sweet dirty whispers that point out and amplify every little reaction, every blush, every tremor, every stifled whimper. The music and sounds of the pub seep through the walls, a protective sheet of sound, but at this point, I honestly don't care. Aside from your fingers, you are still not touching me, and I am becoming truly, utterly desperate. My hands twitch, face turns towards you, even my feet want to shuffle forward. When your fingers start to dip inside me, shallowly, mercilessly, I can't take it anymore.

"Oh please... please... I'm sorry, I'm sorry I teased you, please just let me touch you."

You chuckle, curling your fingers deeply into my folds, withdrawing them again.

"No no sweetheart, no apologies. I'm not punishing you."

I can utter no coherent response, arching my back instead. You allow just a tiny bit more pressure, and I gasp, almost falling forward but catching myself at the last moment.

"T-then please, can I-"

"I'm playing with you." The pace increases, and your mouth is so close I can feel it brushing my ear. "Not for your pleasure, no no, not even when you moan so prettily for me. Yes darling, you are so pretty."

I'm dizzy now, actually dizzy and I fight to stay upright as your words push me closer and closer to what surely will be an earth-shattering orgasm.

"This is for me, because I enjoy watching you, and feeling your sweet little pussy get so fucking wet around my fingers, just begging for my cock and oh no, don't you dare cum."

Your fingers slow down again, and I feel close to crying as the pleasure recedes, but then you soothe the pain as you kiss my cheek, and your free arm pulls me close, finally close against you. "Shhh, come here. Good girl. I know, I know it feels so good. Just like that, yes. Let me play with you."

"I... I need to... please..."

"I know sweetheart, you'll get to soon." Your fingers withdraw entirely, and you hug me close, feel me tremble, a hot, unbuttoned, needy mess in your arms. "Time to go home."