Erica batted her long eyelashes and smiled as she placed her customers orders on the table. It was chilly inside the crowded restaurant and her long nipples strained against her uniform top. She had small, perky A cup breasts and she rarely wore a bra to work because she'd learned over the years that her tips were much better when she didn't.
"Is there anything else I can get you gentleman?" Erica asked in a pleasant tone. She had a sexy southern drawl, pretty brown eyes and a warm smile. She'd been a cheerleader through college and had kept her compact body in shape for the fifteen years since but her ass was bigger and rounder than it had once been.
"No ma'am," the man to her right replied in a deep, commanding tone. He wasn't a bad looking guy but he was black and Erica had never found black men particularly attractive. He did have a nice body though, and even she couldn't deny that. He had broad shoulders, a thick neck and a flat stomach like an NFL linebacker.
Erica had been born and raised in South Carolina. She was something of a redneck and was a product of her environment. She liked fast cars and big trucks. She shot guns and enjoyed fishing and in select company she used the "n" word indiscriminately.
"Okay, well y'all let me know if you need anything at all," she replied with a playful grin. She had always been something of a flirt and she turned it up a notch at work to improve her tips. She didn't care if the guys were black, white or green she'd flirt for tips. She'd even flirted with a few lesbians at the restaurant even though she didn't swing that way.
Erica turned and walked away. She could feel their eyes on her thick, juicy as and she put an extra wiggle in her walk. It made her feel good when men looked at her that way. She had no intention of doing anything more than flirting but she liked the attention and she wouldn't have done anything even if they were hot white men. She was, after all, happily married.
Erica and Jim had been married for five years and she loved him dearly. He was 13 years her senior and in good shape. He wasn't a big man, standing only 5'7" tall but he was fit and muscular and very hot with pretty eyes and a smooth shaved head.
Erica walked out the back door for a quick smoke and pulled out her phone. The black customer had reminded her of her pot dealer, though they didn't look anything alike, and she called to make sure he had some weed for her after work. She'd always been a party girl and loved to drink beer and whiskey but she had recently started smoking pot. She liked the pot buzz a lot and as a side benefit, especially for Jim, it made her very horny.
Erica punched out at 11pm and climbed into her old Chevy truck. She turned right and sped out of town. Her dealer lived in a ratty farm house at the end of a long dirt road. He stayed up late and didn't mind her stopping for weed at any time but she wanted to get home to Jim before he passed out for the night.
She shut off her headlights and sat alone in her truck. Her dealer was creepy and he sometimes scared her a little but she'd been buying from him long enough that she left her little 38 pistol under her seat. She didn't recognize one of the cars in his driveway and since it was a Mercedes it sure didn't fit in there but she assumed it was just another customer.
Erica knocked on the door and waited. Carl slowly opened the heavy wooden door and nodded. He was a big man who towered over her. He was well over 6 feet tall and had to weigh more than 300 pounds. He had a thick neck, big arms and a fat belly. He was probably the most unattractive man she knew but he gave her a good price on pot. He hinted that he was open to alternative payment methods which made her skin crawl.
"Come on in Baby Girl," Carl said in a low, slow tone. He sounded stupid but he did math fast in his head and he was street smart too. He stepped aside and Erica walked past him into his dank, dark living room. Clouds of smoke filled the air and the stench of pot assaulted her senses. She breathed deep drawing the second hand smoke into her lungs giving her a quick contact high as her eyes scanned the room.
Carl lit up a joint and took a hit. He handed it to Erica and she followed suit. She held the acrid smoke deep and stepped towards the couch where Carl's friends sat waiting.
A smile spread across her pretty face and she exhaled. She coughed twice and then handed the joint to the man closest to her.
"I know you," she giggled. He had been her customer at the restaurant a few hours earlier and his smile widened. "You're Michael right?"
"Hey sexy," he replied confidently. He took a hit and patted the spot beside him on the overstuffed leather couch.
Erica hesitated for a second but she didn't want to seem rude so she plopped down and waited for another hit. He had tipped her very well at the restaurant and she felt obligated to appease him. He had tried, unsuccessfully, to get her number but she'd told him she was married and never mixed business and pleasure.