Penny And Bernadette Work For Tips

Penny and Bernadette were standing around the waitress station talking about the events of the past weekend and life in general. Penny was an old pro at the Cheesecake Factory. She had moved to California from Nebraska to pursue an acting career. She was working as a waitress to pay the bills until she got her big break. After four years she was still waiting for her big break. Bernadette was new, trying to make some extra money while she was attending college. Although they were total opposites in almost every way, the two had hit it off almost from Bernadette's first day.

Penny was a long, lean blonde. Standing 5' 6" with 35-24-36 curves, and long blonde hair that only made her tan more obvious, she looked like the prototypical California girl. Bernadette, on the other hand, wasn't even 5' tall, which only accentuated her 36-27-35 figure. With long blonde hair, slightly darker than Penny's, and glasses, she looked like a cross between a curvy kewpie doll and a book nerd.

Penny had elaborated on the sexual debauchery she and her latest boy toy had performed while Bernadette talked about her upcoming finals for this year's conclusion of the degree in bioscience she was chasing. It was 10:30 on another slow Monday night. Almost everyone else had gone home. The girls were getting ready to call it a night and head home as well.

Just then a group of four men walked in. The greeter seated them in a booth in Penny's section. Penny was disappointed and grateful both at the same time. Disappointed because it probably meant she was going to be there past closing. Grateful because she might be able to finish the night off with some decent tips.

A few moments later another group of four men walked in. The greeter seated this group in a booth in Bernadette's section.

"At least Penny will be stuck here with me,"

she thought.

Before Penny went over to greet her table she looked at Bernadette, back at their tables, and back to Bernadette.

"How would you like to make this interesting?" Penny asked Bernadette.

"Sure. What did you have in mind?" Bernadette replied.

"Whoever gets the bigger tip out of their table gets to keep the other one's tip," Penny said with a crooked grin.

Bernadette thought about it. Penny had been doing this a long time. She was consistently one of the top tip earners at this location. She knew how to take full advantage of her looks. She had given Bernadette some tips, but Bernadette was sure she hadn't given her all her tricks of the trade. But she could use the extra cash, too.

"You're on," Bernadette answered.

Penny thought this would be like taking candy from a baby. She almost felt guilty about it. But Bernadette was a big girl, and Penny had rent coming up that she was going to be short on...again.

With a devilish grin, Penny looked right at Bernadette and unbuttoned her blouse as far as she could before the mustard yellow sweater of their uniforms stopped her, making it quite clear she wasn't wearing a bra today. She brushed the hem of her skirt, one of the many skirts she had sewn half as short as the standard Cheesecake Factory uniform skirt, showing off her long, tan legs. She turned and walked in the direction of her prey.

"Shit!"

Bernadette thought. She had been brought up a good, Catholic girl. But she wasn't blind to the ways of the world, either. It wasn't beneath her to give the occasional blow job or titty fuck to get the grade she desired. There wasn't anything she could do about her skirt or her legs, but there was one thing she had over Penny in spades. Her tits.

Being as short as a junior high school girl with the curves of a stripper presented unique clothing issues for Bernadette. With her father being on a cop's salary and her mother a teachers, she couldn't afford to have her clothes tailored to her unique figure. The compromise was usually finding something to fit her length, or lack of, and squeezing her curves into it. That usually meant her 35C's were squeezed into something built for 32B's. Her breasts were already straining the buttons on her blouse. She unbuttoned two more buttons, just low enough to give a hint of the lacy yellow bra she was wearing today. Her tits looked like they were about to spill out.

****

"Good evening, guys, welcome to the Cheesecake Factory," Penny greeted her guests. Her group was a little younger than Bernadette's group. She guessed mid to late 20s. You could see it in their eyes that they were pleased with the waitress they were lucky enough to have tonight. She explained the specials of the day and leaned into the table, pad and pen in hand, as is if she might have trouble hearing them over the noise of the restaurant, even though it was stone silent in the restaurant. She wanted to make sure she gave them as good a view of her cleavage as possible.

"What can I get you boys to drink?" she asked, pen at the ready. Two ordered waters, one ordered a sweet tea, one ordered a Dr. Pepper. "I'll be right back with those," she said with a smile. She turned to walk away and clumsily (and intentionally) dropped her pen. "Shit, I'm such a klutz," she said, looking back at her table, making sure she had gotten their attention. She bent over at the waist, not at the knees. Her short skirt rose up, giving them a clear shot of her ass, the blue g-string that was embedded in the crack of her ass, as well as just a hint of her pink pussy lips. She could sense jaws dropping behind her at the sight.

"Score one for me,"

she thought to herself.

****

Bernadette sidled up to her table. "Hi guys, welcome to the Cheesecake Factory. Thanks for coming in. My name is Bernadette, but you can call me Bernie. I'll be your server tonight," she said in her cute, squeaky little voice. The guys glanced at the name tag on her chest that said "Bernadette", trying to not make it too obvious they were actually getting an eyeful of the cleavage her 35C's created.

She, too, explained the specials of the day to her table. Once that task was done she asked, "So, what can I get you guys tonight? Coffee? Tea? Or me?" The guys did a double take at the last offering.

Richard, in the back-left corner of the booth, asked "You? Are you on the menu?" he asked almost laughing.

"Sure I am!" Bernadette answered with a twinkle in her eye. "If you'll turn to page 23 of the menu," the sound of menus quickly opening interrupted her sentence, "under 'poultry'," she continued as she leaned over the table as far as her small frame would allow, giving Richard a perfect view straight down her cleavage, she pointed at the menu item, "that's me. 'Slices of tender, white breast meat, with fluffy mashed potatoes served on the side, all covered in a thick, creamy white gravy." She paused. "I particularly like the gravy," she practically purred. Stunned silence filled the table. Four sets of eyes looked at Bernadette and back to the photo of the dish on the menu, their minds racing. She paused, letting what she said sink in. "I'll bring you guys some water while you look over the rest of the menu," she said with a huge grin as she turned and walked away.

"Score one for the girl with the big tits,"

she thought to herself.

****

Penny returned to her table with the drinks. "Are you boys ready to order or do you need a couple more minutes?" she asked with a smile.

The guys all looked at each other with stupid grins. Glenn, in the aisle seat to her right, was the first to speak up.

"Penny, are you interested in making a couple extra bucks tonight?" Glenn asked.

"This was too easy. She's toast,"

Penny thought to herself. "I'm a waitress and I've got rent to pay. What do you think?" she replied playfully.

Glenn decided to go for it. "Listen, ummmm, we couldn't help but notice you're wearing a g-string." He paused. His question could have three results. A slap across the face, being escorted out of the restaurant, or a night of unimaginable possibilities. "They just happen to be in my favorite color. Would you be interested in selling them to me?"

This caught Penny by surprise. No one had ever been that brazen. She thought about it. She thought about the bet. She looked Glenn square in the eyes. Her lips curled into a crooked grin. "Make me an offer."

Glenn couldn't believe it. He thought about it. "$20."

Penny shook her head. "Not even close."

"Okay. How much?" Glenn asked.

Penny thought about it. "$75."

Glenn considered it. "Okay. But I get to take 'em off." He pulled out his wallet and slapped the money on the table.

"Oh, he's good,"

Penny thought. "If you're taking them off right here that's gonna cost you another $25." Glenn slapped another set of bills on the table. She grabbed the money off the table and stuffed it into the pouch around her waist where she kept her order pad, a handful of pens, and her other tips. Penny and Bernadette had both emptied out that last pocket to make it easier to keep track for the purposes of their bet.

Having taken the money, she moved directly in front of Glenn. They looked into each other's faces to see if one would blink and back out. Penny soon had her answer. Glenn's hands crept up her thighs and under her short skirt to her hips. Both hands slipped under the thin strings. Then one hand began to slide around to her front. Before she could react, the hand was between her thighs, underneath the thin material. Glen began to caress her quickly moistening pussy. She gasped but didn't resist. Glenn quickly realized she wasn't going to reject his advances. He soon had a finger sliding between her lips, gently rubbing her already excited clit. She closed her eyes and placed a hand on his shoulder for balance. She spread her legs further apart. Glenn slipped a finger past her lips and into her cunt. Her body shuddered. She bit her bottom lip.

Glenn's companions watched as be fingered her. They couldn't believe what they were seeing. They all had uncomfortable bulges in their pants. Glenn soon had two fingers buried in her slit with a thumb pressing on her clit. Penny couldn't believe this stranger had himself buried in her cunt. In the middle of the restaurant. And she didn't care.

Her body rocked against his hand. Her eyes stayed closed. She was biting her lip so hard she thought she might bite it off. Her breathing became labored. Her voice was silent but her mind was screaming

"Fuuuuuuuck!"

Her heart raced. She threw her head back. A low, quiet moan escaped her lips as her body trembled with an orgasm. Right there. In the middle of the restaurant. Her knees went weak. She thought she might collapse right there.

Finally, Penny's muscles unclenched from around Glenn's fingers. He moved his hands back around to her hips. The fingers that were buried in her snatch left a moist trail along their path. He placed his hands under the thin strings on her hips once again. This time he dragged his prize down her thighs and below her trembling knees. She lifted one leg out, then the other. He looked into her flushed face with a very satisfied grin on his face, crumpled up his purchase, and tucked it into his side pocket.

Penny took a deep breath. "Holy crap on a cracker," she said breathlessly. She looked at the stunned faces around the table. "I'll be right back to take your orders." She rushed off to the bathroom where she splashed cold water on her face, wiped away the juices that were running down the inside of her thighs, and tried to gather her senses.

****

Bernadette went back to her table. "Okay, guys, ready to order?" she asked, pad and pen in her hands.

Paul, on her left and in the aisle seat, spoke up. "Bernie, I've got to ask you something."

"Sure. What's that?"

"The other waitress..." he started.

Bernadette turned her head, back towards Penny's table several booths away on the opposite aisle. "Penny? Sure, what about her?"

"Well...you're not going to believe this. We certainly couldn't. Still don't actually." He paused, looking for the words. "We'd swear we just saw her give her panties to a gentleman at her table. Is...is that possible?"

Bernadette pursed her lips and furrowed her brow.

"That bitch!"

she thought to herself. "Well, I guess it's possible," she said shrugging her shoulders. "She'll do just about anything to get better tips."

John, in the back right corner of the booth, sniggered under his breath, "Maybe we should ask to be moved to her section."

Bernadette heard the comment. Her eyes narrowed. Steam almost came out of her ears.

"That bitch!"

she thought to herself again.

George, in the aisle seat to her right, couldn't help but notice her reaction. "How about you, Bernie? What will you do for better tips?" he asked with a sneer. The other three watched closely to see what her reaction would be.

"Fuck!"

she thought.

"I can't let her beat me!"

She looked at George. "I dunno. What did you have in mind?" She already knew what the answer was going to be.

"How about you?" George asked. "Got any panties you want to sell?"

"Fucking bitch!"

raced across her mind. "Maybe. What are they worth to you?"

"Well, before I make you an offer, I need to see the merchandise," George told her with a grin.

Bernadette quickly scanned the near empty restaurant for prying eyes. She looked back at George. She grabbed the hem on the right side of her skirt and raised it along the side of her thigh. She raised it above her waist, giving George and the rest of the table a clear view of her lacy, yellow boy shorts panties. This also showed off her toned legs and, if they looked closely in the shadows of her skirt, just a hint of her swelling pussy lips.

She dropped the hem of her skirt feeling they had seen enough. George grinned and scratched his chin. He looked into her face. "Nice." He paused. "$25."

"You're joking, right?" Bernadette said incredulously. "These are Victoria's Secret! They're not some cheap Walmart brand."

George grabbed the hem of her skirt and began to gently raise it. Much to his surprise she let him. Bernadette restrained her natural instinct to slap his hand away. She looked at him with a sly grin. He lifted it even higher than Bernadette had previously and held it there. "$50."

"$65 and they're yours," she said defiantly.

George let go of the hem of the skirt. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a billfold. He pulled out several dead presidents and laid them on the table. Bernadette grabbed the money and placed it into the pouch around her waist. She slipped her hands under her skirt and slid the panties down her silky thighs, past her knees, and around her shoes. She held them for a moment before handing them to George.

There was a pause. George broke the silence. He was grinning like a Cheshire cat. "How about the bra? I'd like a matching set."

"Seriously?!" she said louder than intended. George remained silent, just staring back with that same grin and a twinkle in his eyes.

"Shit!"

she thought. "How badly do you want a matching set?"

George thought about it. "$75."

"No way!" she replied emphatically. "Do you know how expensive Victoria's Secret bras are? Especially something to fit these." She cupped her breasts and bounced them a little.

"How big are those bad boys?" asked John from the corner.

"35C," she said, blushing, still cupping them.

"Told you," John said, looking across the table at Richard.

"Okay, you tell me what it will take to let your puppies breath," George told her.

Bernadette thought about it. "$125," she said confidently. George pulled out more dead presidents from his wallet and laid them on the table. Bernadette once again grabbed them and tucked them into her pouch. She turned and began to walk away.

"Hey!" George hollered. "Where you goin' with my money?"

She stopped and turned to look at him. She motioned to the back of the restaurant. "To the bathroom," she almost whispered, "to take it off."

George shook his head. "Nuh huh. Do it here."

Her jaw dropped. She thought of the contest. She knew Penny wasn't wearing a bra. This was a definite chance to pull ahead. She walked back to the table. "That's gonna cost you another $20." George pulled out a worn $20 bill and laid it on the table where the others had been. Bernadette picked it up and put it with the others.

Bernadette reached behind her and undid the clasp. She reached under the short sleeve of her left arm and pulled the strap down and over her hand. She reached across her body and grabbed the strap on her right shoulder. With a couple of sharp tugs, the lacy yellow bra slipped through her shirt and out from her right sleeve. Her 36 inch bust jiggled after they were set free but, for as large as they were, they had no sag to them. She daintily handed the bra to George. He stuffed it into the gap between he and John.

"Thank you," he said with a smile.

"Now that's done, are you guys ready to order?" she said, trying to get back to business, cheeks rosy red.

"Not just yet," Paul said. Now he was grinning.

"Oh? Why not?" she asked.

"Well..." he paused, looking around the table. "You've set your puppies free but you haven't actually let them breath."

"Is he saying what I think he's saying?!"

she thought. "What are you trying to say?" she asked.

Paul nodded his head in her direction. "Let's see 'em."

Bernadette's jaw dropped. "Are you kidding me? Right here? Are you crazy?"

Paul placed two, crisp Benjamin Franklins on the table. "Nope," he said with a sly grin.

"Shit!"

she thought. Her mind raced. She reasoned with herself.

"God only knows what that slut will do to get my tips. It's just my tits, right? What is it with guys and tits? There's nobody in the restaurant anyway."

"$250," she whispered, almost hoping he would turn it down. In a flash, Ulysses S. Grant joined Ben Franklin on the table.

"Dammit!"

She looked around the restaurant, seeing only emptiness. She could hear the rustling of the kitchen crew far off in the distance, behind several layers of walls. She grabbed the money and stuffed it into her quickly-filling pouch. She apprehensively, slowly began to unbutton her blouse. The four men's eyes grew wide with anticipation. She finally got enough buttons undone that she could squeeze her 35C cups into the open. She took one last glance around the restaurant. She looked back into the mesmerized faces around the table and slowly opened her shirt.

The twins popped out of the center of her shirt. She pressed them together with her fists as she blushed. Paul, looking as if he was in a trance, muttered "Holy fuck." He reached up to touch them.

SMACK! Bernadette swatted his hand away and tucked the girls back into her shirt.

"Hey! What the fuck?!" Paul cried.

"You wanted to see 'em, you saw 'em," she said.

"But, now that I've seen them, I want to touch them," he practically begged.

A chorus of "Me, too!" followed his statement from the other three men sitting at the table.

Bernadette thought about it. "It'll be another $20 from each one of you for a

quick

touch." She emphasized "quick". Four $20 bills magically appeared on the table. She tucked them into her pouch and looked around the restaurant again.

Once again, she pulled open her shirt and squeezed her tits together. In a matter of seconds, she had four different hands groping her massive mammaries. Their touch took her breath away for a moment. Her hard, gum drop sized nipples were being tugged and twisted. She had to bite her bottom lip to keep from moaning.

As quickly as it started she pulled away and tucked the girls back into her shirt. Her face was flushed. The men had disappointed looks on their faces and were squirming in their seats as if their pants had suddenly become uncomfortable.