Restaurant 2
Fruity surprise!
The next day a businessman called in at lunchtime for a snack and discreetly asked Paul about the French maid. Paul hesitated at first but crossed his fingers. "It's fancy dress, only on a Tuesday. The waitress works here just the one evening," he lied.
"I was told she's the sexiest waitress ever seen," the older man stated, with a wistful look in his eye. Paul couldn't help agreeing so nodded with a knowing smile. If Pauline found out they were talking about her like this he would be in trouble.
When his wife came back from a shopping trip the old gentleman didn't give her a second glance. Paul looked at her and marvelled at the difference the uniform made. She carried her self more erect in the maids outfit whereas now she looked, well, she looked ordinary. She was tired from hard work, they both were.
Others came in during the week asking about the French maid and he realised no-one connected his wife with the sexy waitress. An account of the show had obviously been passed on, with some lascivious exaggeration, yet he enjoyed their remarks. Even the lewd comments he had to smile at.
***
The following Tuesday there was a tricky moment before opening up. How was he to persuade Pauline to don the costume again? "Oh go on, its good for business. We made a good profit last week," he said.
"No! You said you'd taken it back," she accused, while pouting her luscious lips and frowning at him.
"I was going to, but you know what its like, there's no time for anything. Go on, it can't hurt," he cajoled her.
She was about to say it could and did hurt but didn't want to admit it. She had been embarrassed, almost humiliated. She had avoided thinking about that evening all week, not wanting to admit she had also been a little thrilled by it.
She was about to tell him that was why she just couldn't do it, but demurred. It was difficult accepting being turned on by the naughty exhibition so telling someone, even her husband, was awkward. Pauline felt wretched, caught between needing to boost their profits and not wanting to feel sordid.
Paul watched her out of the corner of his eye while chopping carrots for a soup. The quick flash of the knife was a contrast to the thoughts moving slowly across her face, like cloud shadows moving across a landscape. He was surprised when she agreed but merely shrugged his shoulders pretending not to be bothered.
"OK. It will help so much, you're a darling," he said casually, though feeling relieved. She didn't realise how much they needed the Tuesday evenings.
She had reluctantly agreed, on the basis the evening would pass quietly like the first. Fortunately just the two previous customers, Jeffrey and Bill, walked in. When two more customers arrived she became nervous wondering if she could cope.
Pauline was still a novice at playing the flirting game, unaware the two groups had positioned themselves to observe her bending over each other's tables. Bill smiled up at her when the drinks were served. He dare not look at his two friends across the room or they might burst out laughing.
"Thank you," Bill said. "What do you recommend this evening it's difficult to choose from such a good menu. Could we have a range of small dishes like last time?" he asked.
"Certainly sir, I aim to please. I'm glad you enjoyed your last visit, I'm sure I can satisfy you again this evening," she said innocently. Pointing at the menu she said, "There are some delicious items on this evening, what ever takes your fancy I'm sure will delight you. Take your time and I'll be back to take your orders," she added.
Holding the menu low, as though he were far sighted, Jeffrey asked, "Is this on tonight?"
She bent over him to see what he was referring to. "The leg of lamb is available. Everything is on tonight, don't worry, whatever takes your fancy I'm sure I can provide it for a good customer," she smiled, and hurried away to get drinks for the other table.
The other two, Henry and James, looked across the restaurant as she bent over with the drinks. The hem floated up on a gauzy wave of petticoats giving them a glimpse of stocking tops. It was somehow more enthralling than a string bikini at the beach.
As she strode away they nodded to Jeffrey and Bill with knowing smiles. The recommendation had been right, she had a perfect figure. They hadn't quite believed how thrilling it was to watch a waitress running around dressed as a naughty French maid. Bill had also warned them not to get carried away or it would spoil the fun.
"Every time she pulls on that hem I think a nipple will burst out," Jeffrey chuckled.
"When she was bent over your menu I had a good look at those suspenders. I was tempted to drop a fork on the floor," he mused.
Pauline looked naive and so she was, having no idea they were so riveted by the merest glimpse of her body. If she had guessed what they were saying behind her back she would have changed into a simple overall immediately.
Like naughty schoolboys, they planned and schemed their cunning manoeuvring of her body by over-ordering thereby filling up the table with dishes. Reaching over to organise the table while balancing two drinks gave the other two a hard time.
Across the room they watched her bottom wiggle seductively in a pair of white cotton panties as the hem of the outfit became pushed up by layers of stiff petticoats. At the table they stole glances down her cleavage watching her breasts quiver with every move.
Pauline was kept busy enough not to notice their surreptitious glances. She also avoided thinking about it not wanting to know otherwise she might have scuttled back to the kitchen too afraid to reappear.
Late in the evening she was tired from a long day and less careful. Bill tried to help make room by pushing things out of the way. A glass tipped splashing the table cloth with red wine and a little dribbled down her leg. Without thinking she snatched at the dress to protect it pulling it up enough to show off the suspender straps.
Jeffrey meant to hand her a napkin to dab at the red wine but in haste pushed it against her leg. Pauline stood there surprised at his forwardness, or was it kindness, with her hand still clutching the hem. When she didn't pull away from his mistake he dabbed at the stocking top with the napkin.
The cotton edge of it fluttered against a bare thigh. A hard starched corner poked up under the hem to poke her between the legs. Her eyes widened as she looked at him dabbing away the stain. He seemed unaware of the little dancing tingles on her thighs or that he was poking her between the legs.
She pulled the hem down firmly. "Thank you Jeffrey, I . . ." she stammered.
They looked at her with innocent smiles. Were they aware of what they had done to her? She felt enlivened and just a little squishy from this intimate touching. The naughty feeling wasn't welcome and had to dismiss it as just a silly mistake.
"I'll get you a re-fill," she murmured and quickly retreated back to the kitchen.
As it had last week, by the end of the evening, the outfit was misbehaving. Feeling tired she neglected to pull the hem down, though when she remembered to, didn't bother to adjust the top. Consequently too much thigh was showing and too much cleavage was on show.
Bending over the sweet trolley she just couldn't be bothered to find the right angle to avoid revealing her panties. It was annoying that they dithered and changed their minds but she knew perfectly well why they kept her bending over the damn trolley.
To get it over and done with she purposely pushed a cake off the bottom shelf. She had to bend right over to reach it knowing the little black dress was pulled half way up her bottom. At least they had what they wanted and she would be able get them served.
She twisted and turned to reach it, wiggling her bottom right in front of them. What she didn't know was how well the cotton panties had stuck to her pussy. She was still wet from earlier when Jeffrey had touched her. The gusset pulled between her swollen lips as they protruded between her legs.
