Hot Hungry & Topless

There were three quarters on the booth table. I looked out through the front window of the diner, just in time to watch the old guy peel out of the parking lot. It was one of those moments when waiting tables could really suck. He owns a brand-new Corvette, I thought, and leaves me a crappy 75-cent tip. What an asshole. What a fucked-up shift.

Despite my frustration about getting stiffed by Old Vette Guy, I was mostly just tired and hot from a long, hectic day at work. I usually made pretty good tips and liked working with Janice and Mr. Aravni most of the time. Today, however, had been an especially busy Saturday. A drag strip about half a mile down the highway was hosting their annual, 21-and-over "Blues, Beer & Burnouts" event, which combined races and a car show with live music by a few regional blues bands. And beer — lots of cheap beer. It always drew a big crowd. By mid-afternoon, however, cloudless sun and temperatures approaching 100 degrees sent lots of attendees in search of shade and air conditioning — and straight into our parking lot. The "WELCOME RACE FANS" banner Mr. Aravni had hung facing the highway may have helped.

Despite the name,

Mr. A's House of Beef

was no upscale steakhouse, but a cheap, worn roadside diner in the middle of fucking nowhere. The current owner, Deepak Aravni, had bought it fresh off the boat from Mumbai: his chance to claim a little slice of the American Dream. During the week, customer traffic was light. Janice, the middle-aged waitress who worked here full-time, could handle the trickle of truckers, retirees, roofers and yard crews by herself. Business picked up on weekends, and I helped out on Saturdays and Sundays to supplement my grad school stipend and get away from my annoying roommates for a few hours.

As I cleared Mr. Asshole's dishes, I heard a loud, rumbling car pull up outside. I had no sooner wiped the booth down when a young couple came in and took it. They looked overheated, worn out from partying, and grateful to be in the cool, relative calm of the restaurant. He was black, tall and muscular, with closely trimmed hair. His basketball shorts and white tank top were soaked with sweat. She was thin, fit and firm. Her shoulder-length hair was dyed bright pink and looked cute, even with the ends matted with sweat against her neck and bare shoulders. I brought them menus and two large glasses of water. While I introduced myself, they both grabbed their glasses and took long drinks. Another car pulled up outside, but I barely noticed; my eyes were still checking out the girl's body. Her outfit made it pretty easy. She wore a 70's style bib halter — clearly without a bra — and a denim miniskirt that showed lots of thigh. If it hadn't been sweltering outside, I might have thought she was dressed a bit slutty, but people wear all sorts of things in the heat of summer that they wouldn't dare go out in at other times of the year. I offered to give them a couple of minutes to look over the menu.

I turned to check on another table. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw another young woman come in through the front door. In that flash of a moment, she almost appeared to be bare-chested, but my brain rejected that conclusion as absurd. Had I just seen what I thought I'd seen? I looked again and — sure as hell — it was an attractive young lady, clearly and unashamedly topless. In this day and age, when female nudity is so prevalent in movies, at beaches, and on the Internet, it's easy to underestimate how startling it is to see a woman enter a public establishment bare to the waist. I'd noticed women discreetly breast-feeding babies in the diner before, and I'd gotten a few downblouse peeks at women who'd deliberately left a few too many buttons undone. I once even saw a girl pull her shirt up in the parking lot to flash a trucker. But this chick was topless. No shirt, no jacket, no bra, no bikini top. TOPLESS. She wore only a pair of tight, short, faded cut-offs, leather thong sandals on her feet and a long silver necklace with a small pendant that dangled between her tits. I struggled to regain my composure while she casually passed me, ignoring my stare. She had the body to pull it off. Her tits were not large, probably a B-cup, but they were perky and pointed, with large, dark nipples, and they looked great. Subtle tan lines on her bronze torso suggested she sometimes sunbathed in a tiny string bikini top, but much of the time with her tits as bare as they were now. Her dirty-blonde hair was a short pixie cut and a pair of darkly tinted Ray-Ban aviators hid her eyes.

Several voices began murmuring and I heard Janice gasp. The topless babe took a seat across the the booth from the other couple. She casually moved her sunglasses to the top of her head, totally carefree and seemingly unaware of the commotion she was causing.

She had no sooner sat down than Janice strode over to the booth. "I'm sorry, young lady," she said loudly, "but you can't come in here like that. This is totally unacceptable."

The girl just shrugged. "What?"

"Don't act stupid. Your attire, or should I say the lack of it. It's indecent and offensive."

"Really? I don't find it indecent; neither do my friends, here. And frankly, I have no control over what you choose to get offended by."

"Oh, please! Don't argue with me, Missy. This is a family-oriented place, we don't put up with this sort of anti-social behavior. You can't just—"

"What's going on here?" Mr. Aravni's voice sounded urgent and agitated as he appeared from the back in a waddling sprint. As for me, I was still just standing there motionless, struggling to comprehend the whole episode as it unfolded. All I could think at that moment was how the feeble air-conditioning in the diner was cool enough to make her nipples begin to stand nicely erect.

"Just look at her!" Janice said with indignation. "She's not even dressed!"

"Ma'am, we'll have to ask you to put a shirt on," Mr. Aravni said to the girl. His voice had an almost condescending calmness that came not only from growing up in a culture of reserved manners, but also from a long career dealing with the general public.

"Well, that's a problem," she replied. "My shirt is somewhere in a field next to the drag strip. And by now it's probably a ripped-up, muddy rag. I don't have a shirt."

"Well," Mr. Aravni said, his voice still soothingly calm. "We do need you to cover up. We have some extra polo shirts in the office for employees. I will be glad to get one."

"I don't want to wear your fuckin' polo shirt!" the girl said, more irritated now. "I've been out in the sun and hot as hell all day long. I don't have a shirt on because I don't WANT to wear a shirt."

Janice sighed with exasperation. "You want us to call the cops? Is that what you want?"

The topless chick shrugged again. "And they're gonna do what? Charge me with trespassing? No, because you haven't actually told me to leave. I hate to be the one to break it to you, but going topless is not a crime. In this state, it's as legal for women as it is for men."

Janice pointed toward the front door. "Well, see that sign as you come in? 'No shirt, no shoes, no service.' That also goes that goes equally for men and women."

"Fine. I'm okay with no service. Just let me sit here, cool off, and visit with my friends while THEY eat. I won't so much as steal a french fry. But I'm NOT putting a shirt on. Are we clear?"

"That violates Health Department regulations," Janice said.

I was finally recovering from my shocked stupor. "Actually, no it doesn't," I heard myself say out loud. "That's a common misconception. 'No shirt, no shoes' isn't a legal thing, it's just—"

"You're not helping!" Janice cut me off tersely, then turned back toward the topless chick. "You need to be asked to leave? Fine. You need to go, now. And your friends need to go, too." She pointed at the other couple in the booth, who had been silent up until now.

"Why should WE have to go?" the other girl protested. "Just because we're sitting with her? Or do you find MY attire indecent and anti-social, too?" She gestured towards her top. "Does this show a little too much skin for your customers' delicate sensibilities? Or maybe its too thin?"

"Now, now, let's just..." Mr. Aravni started to say.

"Tell you what," the girl in the halter top continued, "If you're going to kick me out..." She reached behind her back and untied her halter top. Then she lifted it from around her neck and removed it completely. "There. NOW you can tell me to leave."

Her tits were rounder and larger than the other topless chick's tits, but her tan lines were more drastic, with much paler skin and a lot more of it. Think jog bras and tank tops, not string bikinis. Also, her nipples were tiny and pink. They looked slightly out of proportion to the size of her breasts: just not quite the dramatic payoff you hope for when a woman takes off her top. I decided the other girl's darker areolae and larger, pointier nipples seemed sexier to me. However, she'd had the initial element of shock on her side. As I compared and contrasted the two girls' racks, I realized I was unexpectedly staring at two fine, young, topless hardbodies. In the middle of the day. At work. Let's face it; tits are tits, and I was not about to complain about another exposed pair to stare at. This was getting more exciting by the minute.

"That's it," Janice said. "You're deliberately causing a public disturbance now. I'm calling the cops."

"That's hardly necessary at this point, and nobody is telling you to leave," Mr. Aravni said. "We just need to, ahhh..." Good old Deepak Aravni, I thought. It would be against his character to turn away a booth-full of customers with money in their pockets, no matter how they chose to dress or undress.

I spoke up again. "Hold on a sec. I have a suggestion." All five of them turned to look at me. "These are my customers. They sat down in my section. I don't have a problem serving them. How about I seat them in the banquet room, away from Janice and the other customers? There, they can dine privately dressed however they'd like, and nobody needs to see them but me." To be honest,

banquet room

was a pretty inaccurate description of it. True, it had been a separate dining room for large parties at one time, but it hadn't been used for customers in many years. It was used for storage nowadays, with stainless-steel racks full of napkins and canned food against the walls and extra tables and chairs stacked randomly around the room.

"Fine, whatever," the topless girl said. "If that'll get me a Diet Pepsi and a BLT, I'm good with that." Her two friends nodded in agreement. I noticed the pale girl's round breasts sway a bit as she did. Hmm, maybe her tits were just as sexy after all.

"If that suits our guests," Mr. Aravni said, "I would be fine with that."

"Unbelievable!" Janice huffed loudly. "What the hell is the world coming to?" she muttered to herself as she headed back to her customers on the other side of the restaurant.

"This way," I said. I motioned toward the swinging doors between the main dining area and the other room. The three got up and followed me into the back. Once through the doors, I quickly wiped a film of dust from one of the tables and arranged three chairs around it. I brought them menus, took their drink order, and left to get their drinks.

I reentered the room a few minutes later, carrying a tray of water glasses and soft drinks. I stopped suddenly and felt the door tap my back as it swung shut. The guy was slumped back in a chair with his bare ass on the edge of the seat and his shorts pulled halfway down his thighs. His penis was fully exposed, lying against his torso, partially erect. When he saw my expression, he said, "Be like we like back here, ain't that what you said?" His voice erupted into a hearty chuckle. "Well, what can I say? They do tits out; I like my junk out."

I wasn't sure what to say. "Yeah. For sure," I finally mumbled hesitantly. "That's cool. It's all cool with me." I stepped to the table and set down the tray of drinks.

He motioned to the girl with the pink hair and pale tits. "C'mon, Babydoll, how about givin' that a li'l?" She slid out of her chair to kneel beside his.

"Just to be clear," I added, "if anybody else comes back here and busts you, I really cant..." Babydoll took his balls and thick black shaft in her hands and began to stroke him. "...uh, I really can't stop..." I hesitated mid-sentence, too distracted to continue. His shaft was stiffening rapidly and I was amazed at how long and thick it was getI realized that he was replying to my statement.ting. Yeah, I thought to myself, if I had that cock I'd be eager to show it off, too.

"Yo. I get that, I get that," he smiled. "I'll take the heat if it comes, but ya know, sometimes you just gotta..." His voice trailed off as the girl lowered her mouth to his cock and slid her lips down over the head. "—Oh, DAMN, girl..." he muttered. Babydoll glanced up and we made eye contact as she slid her lips down his huge meat. She seemed utterly unfazed at having a complete stranger watch her give head. She may have even been enjoying it.

Feeling very awkward, I tried to act casual. I turned towards the tan girl who'd come in topless. She was sitting at the table, looking over the menu. Her companions' blatant sex act seemed quite unremarkable to her as well. "Do you...um... Do you know what you'd like to eat?" I asked.

She glanced over at her friends. "What my girl's got there looks pretty tasty," she said with a smirk. I stood there frozen, completely at a loss at how to respond. Was she saying she wanted like a big black cock like his, or was she offering me a blowjob? After a long pause, she laughed. "I'll take the BLT, waffle fries, extra pickles."

Despite being on the receiving end of a blowjob, the guy reached over and flipped through the menu. "I'll take your blue cheese burger, potato salad, and a side of beans."

The girl raised her head from his dick and looked at me. "Yeah, same for me. No tomato, and onion on the side please."

I nodded dumbly, wrote their choices on my pad, and dutifully stepped out to give the kitchen their food order. I had several other customers in the front of the restaurant, and they needed my attention. I refilled one table's drinks, another customer requested a bottle of tabasco, and an elderly couple in the corner booth said they were ready for their check.

I rang up the total and brought them their check. I slid a bill totalling $12.60 onto the table but the man didn't bother looking at it. He stood up and pressed three $20 bills into my palm. "Keep the change."

"Thank you, sir! That's more than generous."

"Well, you deserve it. We were just discussing how well you resolved that situation, young man. Very intelligently handled."

"It's a shame that some people feel the need to put up such a fuss," the old woman added, glaring over at Janice. "They're just breasts, after all." Her husband helped her to her feet. "You probably wouldn't guess it, but many, many moons ago, I was a showgirl in Vegas." She smiled with a twinkle in her eye. "I had a real nice rack back then, and wearing bare-breasted costumes always paid better. Let me tell you, plenty of people saw my bare bosom over the course of my career. So I'm long past getting worked up over a couple of naked titties."

"Well, I'm nott!" the man chuckled. "Be sure to thank those two sexy young girls for the show."

"Richard, I doubt they care whether an old coot like you got his jollies."

The two continued chatting as they shuffled toward the door. "Remember that old bell clerk?" I overheard him ask her. "That time you walked through the hotel lobby in your swimsuit?"

"At that hotel in Bel-Air? Dear god, I thought I was going to give that old boy a heart attack. My, my...I haven't thought about that in years. That was the same vacation that I bought that strapless cocktail dress with the slit up the side."

"Oh, the pink one? RRROWWWR!" he growled enthuasiatically.

"Now let's see, what year was that...?" And with that the door shut and they were outside.

I wished for a moment I could hear more about her younger escapades, until I heard a bell chime behind me. "Order up! Two blues, one BLT." I quickly forgot about the ex-showgirl and her fellah. I had to go see what the trio in the dining room were up to!

I quickly grabbed their meals and headed back to the banquet room hoping for more sexual excitement. Walking through the doorway, I wasn't disappointed. Babydoll was leaned over a spare table with her guy fucking her vigorously from behind. Her denim skirt was bunched up around her waist and a tiny cotton thong was discarded on the floor. She was gripping the table firmly with her legs spread wide. Her pussy was shaved smooth and I could clearly see his massive black cock sliding in and out of her hole. They grunted softly in unison with each thrust. He was bent low over her back with his hands massaging her tits. His cock was huge — so long that in that position they reminded me of a young filly getting bred by a stallion. "Damn, girl, your box so tight," the man said. I could feel my cock tingle and expand as I imagined the erotic pleasure he was experiencing. I said nothing. I simply stepped over to the table where the other chick was waiting and set out the plates. Unsure of what else to do, I then simply stood there and stared at the two of them go at it.

"Kinda gets you excited, don't it?" the topless girl at the table asked.

I stopped watching her friends fuck long enough to make eye contact. "You could say that," I nodded.

"Right now, you're thinking how unfair life is, that you're not doing that, too." She slid her hands over one her bare breasts and pinched her nipples.

My cock was now rock hard. "Something like that, I guess."

She grabbed the waistline of my pants and pulled me closer to her. I almost stumbled as she forced me forward. "Let's see if we can even the score a bit." She quickly undid my belt and pants and let them drop. She pulled my underwear down to my ankles as well. I guess she really had been offering to suck my cock earlier. Standing over her chair, my erect cock was level with her chest. She smiled at me and grabbed my rod. "So, are you a breast, leg, or ass man?" She arched her back, thrusting her chest out toward me. She pressed my cock against one tit. "Did it turn you on to see me going around topless?" She rubbed my cockhead in little circles around her dark areola. Once her nipple got hard, she began flicking the tip of my cock across her big, stiff nub. "I love going around topfree like this. I don't give a fuck; I'll go anywhere. I think it's exciting to constantly have my tits on display, watching everybody stare at me, feeling the breeze and the sun on them..." I was so turned-on my cock ached, and I grunted involuntarily. "Ding ding!" she said gleefully in response, "I do believe we have a titty man, Bob!"

I looked down at her long, tanned legs. Her tiny cutoffs left them bare to damn near her crotch. "I dunno," I said in a half-gasp. "Those stems could get me pretty worked up all on their own."

"Aw, what a nice complement," she replied. Without further hesitation, she lowered her mouth to my cock and began giving me a blowjob. She swirled her tongue around my head and then slid her lips down my shaft, taking me entirely into her mouth. I couldn't believe what was happening to me. It felt heavenly, but surreal and a more than a little shocking, too. I was getting head from a stranger at work. I glanced at the pair of swinging doors anxiously. If anybody came through them now, I could no longer claim to be just a bystander. I would be totally busted now, too.