I couldn't fucking believe it. Stealing my tips. All of them! What the hell!
I had always held women on a pedestal, until I started working at the Diner. It was the late 80's, I was a sophomore in College, working on my Theater Arts Degree, so of course I needed to wait tables to make money. Apparently it's a fucking tradition. The only place I could the get hours I needed was this crappy little diner near the campus. You know the type: reliable, cheap and fast. So I started working, a 19 year old man, with five of the meanest women I had ever met.
I am not being sexist. I have worked with and under women, no pun intended, many times and hope to in the future. But these bitches had gone off the reservation! The customers saw nothing of their constant table stealing, vile gossiping, ripping off of food, hiding condiments, altering posted schedules and out and out nastiness that these women did. I thought it was me they hated, which would make some sense as I was an outsider in both my gender and age. But after watching how they treated each other, and how they treated their family the rare times they came by the diner, it was clear they treated everyone terribly. And the behavior of the line cooks towards them was another sign that their hatred was a universal one. They all kept a fierce distance from the Diablas, as they called them, and were too scared to be seen to be nice to me at all. And the manager of the place was a middle aged loser who had given up on life and believed whatever Caroline, the chief Harpy of the Diablas, told him.
I was miserable there, until I started using my Acting Powers.
Don't laugh, well... OK, laugh, this is supposed to be entertaining, but don't mock. What I mean is, I started to treat the experience like an acting exercise. I began to observe and record everything about the Five Diabla Waitresses and our environment, just like it was a play. Right away I found that approaching these crazy old bats with the detachment of The Observing Artist, kept me from getting angry or upset too quickly when they pulled their shit. Also, because I was paying more attention to everything, I started being able to sidestep their little traps, as they were rather predictable in their patterns. So when I found out they were stealing my tips, I played it cool. Then I used my two months of research, the diner's dedicated security camera system and an actor's cunning to end their reign of terror forever!
Shall we cut to the chase?
Lucinda Morales, a 49 year old Latin mother of three was on her knees in front of me, her thick red lips devouring my cock. She was still in her waitress' uniform, though the front was unbuttoned revealing a utilitarian black bra. The matching calf length skirt was hiked up, allowing her to get closer to my dick. We were sitting in the back of the restaurant in one of the booths. I was facing out, so she could more easily bend her plump body in half while sucking my cock. Her blue eye shadow and mascara was beginning to run a little bit from the strain on taking my 8" dick, but some how her bright red lipstick stayed in place no matter how hard her mouth squeezed my thick tool.
So, long story short: I got access to the camera system, tricked Lucinda into stealing a wad of cash, filmed it, showed it to her, made her cry, blackmailed her for this blowjob. And trust me, setting up this plump LatinX MILF for sex, is just the beginning. And speaking of the beginning..
I scooted Lucinda back a bit to stand up before her. I opened her shirt farther and massaged her C-Cup tits through the bra. I looked over to make sure the doors were locked and shades were drawn. Yup, just us closing staff with no one to interrupt. Lucinda moved to take off her uniform, but I stopped her.
"Keep it on."
"Why?"
"Because I want to fuck you in the clothes you wear to work, so you remember not to mess with me."
"Oh shit, that's some mean ass thinking, Greg." Her contemptuous expression was ineffective as I shoved my cock back into her mouth and then began a gentle face fucking of this matronly waitress. Just in front of me was a mirror facing us, reflecting the sexy image of the back of Lucinda on her knees in her green and white uniform, her hairsprayed dyed black hair bobbing up and down, her round, fat ass bouncing with every thrust of my penis between her lips.
"Jack it off.", I told her.
She popped my cock out gasping for air. "How much longer you gonna do this?" She asked blandly, no distress in her voice at all.
"Until you pay me back. You're a fucking thief, woman!"
"Stop saying that!" She whined loudly. "Everyone steals!"
I slapped her face with my dick. "I said jack it off!"
She took my cock in her both her hands and began to jerk it up and down. Her numerous gold bracelets on her wrists jungled softly as my engorged cock got even harder.
"Do you want to go to jail?" I asked her.
Fear flashed in her eyes.
"I asked you a question. Do you want to go to jail?"
"No. No, Papi, I don't want to go to jail." Her voice was sad, but like a fake little girl sad, and she stuck out her lower lip in a pout that added to the effect.
"Then prove to me you know what you did was wrong. Perform contrition on my cock."
"That's blasphemy!"
