Ever have one of those days that starts off bad, gets worse, and ends in a completely unexpected way? I had one just last week. Let me tell you about it...
I went to bed way too late, got up way too early, and had a greasy sausage and egg biscuit and a cup of battery acid that was masquerading as coffee for breakfast. Drove two hours into the rising morning sun to make the delivery on time, and then sat and waited for almost four hours for them to unload the trailer. Then, I have to bust my butt to go pickup the next load before the shipper closes. I've been on the move since before sunrise, and I really would like to have some lunch.
Finally, in the middle of that afternoon, I get to stop at a little restaurant, one of those franchise diners that are all over the South, Midwest, and Appalachia. I get a newspaper out of the box in front and walk in. The restaurant isn't crowded - there are only a couple of people sitting in a booth, and a cook behind the counter. I notice a nice, round ass wiggling on a peroxide-blonde curly-haired waitress, who is carrying an order to the booth, but I can't see her face.
I sit down in a booth near the window, scan the menu quickly, and decide what I want to eat. I pull out the Sports section of the newspaper, and begin studying the box scores for last night's baseball games.
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice someone approaching my booth. A feminine voice says, "Hello Sir, my name is Rochelle, I'll be your waitress today. Can I get you something to drink?"
I look up, and the curly blonde waitress is standing there smiling at me. She's in her early to mid-40's, about 5'6", 140 pounds, pretty steel blue eyes, tanning booth tan, and has what appears to be a nice figure buried underneath her uniform, a large chest, and... yeeeesh!
Simply put... her mouth looks nastier than a piranha! Her teeth are in a very sorry state - some are missing, and the ones that are left are chipped and either stained yellow or dark gray from tooth decay. This poor woman needed an orthodontist years ago, now it's too late. Oh well, some people can afford dental work, others simply can't.
"Hello Rochelle!" I grin and reply, as I try to look her in the eyes instead of brazenly gaping at her snaggleteeth. "My name is Steve, and I'll be your customer this afternoon. I think I'd like a large Coke!"
Her smile gets even larger and she says "I like you, you're funny! I'll be right back with your Coke!"
I watch her nice, round butt jiggle and shake underneath her dark brown uniform pants as she walks to the server's station and fixes my drink. "Wow", I think to myself, "What a body and what a face!" It isn't that she's ugly, in fact, she's kind of pretty in a strange sort of way -- like a china doll that was broken, then super-glued back together. All she really needs is some major dental work or a set of dentures. I look at the newspaper until she returns with my drink.
I order my lunch, and after a few minutes she brings it to me. As I eat, I read the newspaper. About halfway through my meal Rochelle refills my drink, brings me my check, and shamelessly flirts with me.
I can't help but watch that delectable round ass of hers shimmy as she walks away, and I resume reading my newspaper. I finish my lunch, pay the check, leave her a $5 tip, and go use the restroom. I leave, and as I round the corner of the building, I notice her sitting on a couple of milk crates near the back of the restaurant and smoking a cigarette.
She waves to me, and smiles as I walk over toward her. "Was your lunch good?" she asks. "Everything OK?"
"Yes, it was very good, thank you!" I reply.
"Thank you for the tip!" she says. "I'm having a birthday party for my granddaughter at my trailer this weekend, and I can sure use the money!"
We make idle conversation for a few minutes - Rochelle tells me that she's off work, but has to wait about an hour for a ride home. Then, she asks me if that's my truck, and when I reply in the affirmative, she tells me she's "...never seen the inside of a truck that big before!"
"Would you like to see the inside? I've got the A/C on and you can watch for your ride from there if you want."
Rochelle thinks that would be "...just peachy!" and we walk over to the truck. I unlock the passenger door, and as she climbs up the steps to the inside, I watch her ass wiggle and bounce. I just want to reach up and rub it - it's all I can do not to.
I climb in behind her, and show her the interior of the truck -- the seats, the cabinets, and the bed. She sits on the bed, bounces up and down a couple of times -- like she's testing the mattress -- and says "This is nice!"
Rochelle isn't the most beautiful woman I've even seen, but the way her titties bounce and that ass of hers jiggles and shakes - my prick is so hard it's about to rip the front out of my pants. If I'm going to get anywhere with her, I'd better make my move now.
"You know, Rochelle... you could make some more money for your granddaughter's birthday if you wanted to..." I softly say as I look her in the eyes.
She doesn't say anything for a few seconds, but then I see the light click on in her head. "I'm not a whore!" she says somewhat angrily.
"I know. I don't date whores and that's not what I meant."
"Then what do you have in mind?"
"I was thinking that I could be your sugar daddy."
"What's a sugar daddy?" asks Rochelle. "I don't know what that is."
"A sugar daddy is a man who spends money on a woman who is his girlfriend or mistress." I reply. "Whores sell it to everybody, a mistress is a more exclusive arrangement. I'd call you when I came through here, and we'd meet somewhere for awhile."
"Hmmm..." she says. "You'd pay me to be your girlfriend? I'd still have my boyfriend, and you'd pay me to see me on the side whenever you came back here?"
"Yeah," I reply. "That's about it."
"And just how much would you pay me to be your mistress?" she asks with a curious tone in her voice.
"Well, let's say $60 for this afternoon, and we'll go from there next time."
"Well... I could use the money," Rochelle replies. "But I'm not a whore!"
