As their dinner comes to a close, Mike squabbles genially with his father in law for a few moments over who will pay the evening's tab. He convincingly lets the older man win and leans back in his seat, patting his wife's gradually expanding thigh. Cheryl doesn't so much as spare him a glance as she continues her no doubt fascinating conversation with her brother's wife Kate about stemless wine glasses.
Mike sighs a little, unsurprised. After 10 years of marriage, any intimacy between them has dwindled to just about nothing. He glances back at Walter, who is still struggling with the higher level math that is involved in paying a dinner bill.
The group is out this evening to celebrate Walter and Nancy's 30th wedding anniversary. Nancy is currently arguing with her son Wallace about the upcoming election (or rather, Wally's rather unreasoned argument is falling on intentionally deaf ears.) Certain that his conversation was currently unnecessary and all the others were focused elsewhere, Mike fixes his eyes back onto the waitress who'd been taking care of them that evening. She bends over to remove an empty plate from a different customers' table and Mike surreptitiously focuses on her ass.
The girl's black work slacks don't do a lot to show it off, but Mike imagines it in his mind regardless. It's not big, but the waitress is young, and that makes it hot enough. The women at the other table bray with laughter at something the girl says, and she grins, drawing Mike's eyes back up to her face. He studies it for a moment, puzzled. He has been trying to figure out how old she is all night. He figures that she must be older than 18, as she has been serving alcohol but he thinks she could be anywhere between that and about 26.
She really is lovely, and Mike thinks that is what is throwing him off. She doesn't look like a typical hot young woman, but more like a Gibson girl, or a silent film actress. Her skin is flawless- pale but far from chalky or ghostly. Her blonde hair is pulled back, but the wisps that have escaped from her ponytail emphasize her slightly downturned grey eyes. 'Bedroom eyes,' Mike thinks, with a small smirk. He always himself to fantasize for a moment about those eyes looking up at him with her mouth wrapped around his dick.
She, however, had been professionally polite and charming throughout their meal, and Mike comes back to the present fairly quickly, glancing over at Walter's credit card just long enough to see that he was leaving the girl barely a 10% tip. Generous for Walt, but Mike was sure the waitress was far more accustomed to receiving at least twice that. She comes back to the table to collect the credit card slip and wish them a great weekend when she sees that they are heading out.
Mike avoids her eyes when he passes by her, feeling oddly guilty about the poor tip that he did not give. He does however catch a whiff of her flowery perfume and glance at her rack long enough to see that her name tag read Winnie. It was cute. It suited her.
The group trudges out to the parking lot, moving slow from too much food and drink. Wally finally has the courtesy to end his sloppy lecture to his mother and bid the rest of them goodbye. Mike sees Kate's glance of distaste at Wally, who has slopped a bit of something down his shirt. Ignoring Wally's slightly drunken struggle to get his key in the door, Mike gives Kate a one armed squeeze and manages to graze his hands across her ample breasts. Either she doesn't notice or just chooses to pretend she didn't, but climbs into her husband's car and gives them all a wave.
Mikes shakes Walter's hand and kisses Nancy on the cheek. After hugging both her parents
and congratulating them, Cheryl and Mike walk over to their own car and head home.
Cheryl immediately turns on the radio and pulls out her phone. Mike's thoughts wander as he navigates the familiar roads. 30 years. Amazing.
He'd had been so sure that he and Cheryl would be exactly the same way, in love and happy forever. But for the past couple of years, their relationship was becoming strained and stagnant. Try as he might, Mike can't even remember the last time they had sex. No, recently he was reduced to jacking off in front of a glowing computer screen in his darkened office at the house.
His secretary had made a suggestive comment just yesterday. He wonders what she would do if he took her seriously. Would she go for it or would she backpedal fast, insisting it was all an innocent joke? He imagines himself slamming his hard dick into her, bent over his desk in the office, pulling her head back by her dark hair, planting a sloppy kiss on her arched neck, the sound of her moans..
.
"Kate says that Wallace is taking her on a cruise this winter," Cheryl interrupts, breaking the silence for the first time and bringing Mike's fantasy to a screeching halt. He isn't sure what to make of this comment and opts instead to remain silent. Is she jealous, or is she saying that she thinks it is tacky vacation? He never knows with her anymore.
Apparently annoyed at his lack of interest, Cheryl huffs loudly and turns to look out the window.
"So...what?" Mike asks, as he pulls the car into the garage next to hers.
"I didn't mean anything by it, Mike. I was trying to make conversation- maybe you remember what that sounds like!" She slams both her car door and the door into the house behind her.
Mike simply watches her go, feeling almost apathetic. He can't even muster the energy to be irritated or insist she calm down. He walks into the house and hears Cheryl rustling and slamming cabinets in the kitchen before her carpet padded footsteps and the sound of the tv being turned on.
"I left my phone at the restaurant. I have to go get it."
Mike isn't sure why he makes this up, but turns back around to re enter the garage. He drives back to the restaurant, despite the fact that his phone is in his pocket, where it's been all night.
He sits in his car in the parking lot for a while, watching the last of the diners exit and drive away, back to their boring lives. Mike takes out his wallet and counts the cash he has. Almost 300, which is odd as he usually pays for anything with his card. He takes this as a good sign. He doesn't have a plan per say, just a sufficient rage at his wife and a slight hard on at the prospect of what he has come back here to do.
Finally, finally, the waitress comes out of the building and heads toward the last car parked on this side of the restaurant, just a few spaces away from his. She has changed out of her work uniform and now dons a short blue dress with a plunging back. As she reaches her car, Mike pulls open his door and racks his brain for her name.
"Winnie!"
A variety of expressions flit across her face when she turns. Apprehension at being accosted like this in the dark, then recognition of him, and finally something like resignation as she remembers how her charm and wit at his table paid off.
"Did you forget something?" she inquires politely.
"No, actually I came back to find you. I know my father in law isn't a great tipper, but I thought you worked really hard tonight and deserved more," Mike replies. He takes his wallet out of his pants and counts out 50 dollars. Winnie smiles and steps close to take the cash. Instead of letting go however, when her fingers close over the money, Mike grabs her wrist with his free hand.
"Whoa there. I said you did a good job, but I don't think you've earned quite this much yet."
"What do you mean?" the girl asks in a now quavering voice, trying to tug her hand back.
"Well, I'd really like to give you this money, but I think you still need to earn it," Mike replies silkily.
"Keeping your wine glass full all night was no easy feat," the waitress responds with a feeble attempt at bravado. Mike's grip on her wrist tightens painfully and she gasps a little from the pain.
"Cute, but what I really had in mind was a blowjob," hisses Mike harshly.
"I don't think so."
"Think a little harder." Mike increases the pressure on her wrist, feeling increasingly angry at how easily she would have blown him off.
The girl's brow furrows. He can feel her pulse racing. She is clearly weighing her options. Mike still has a firm grip on her and could overpower her easily if she tries to run. She glances back at the dark restaurant. It appears that everyone has gone home. Any hope of someone finding and saving her is dashed. Dejectedly, she nods. Amazing what those in the service industry will do for a little money.
Mike opens the back door to his SUV and pushes Winnie none too gently inside- her purse falls to the cement. He climbs in after her and sees that she is already kneeling on the far seat and tying her long blonde hair back into a ponytail. Mikes smirks a little and and unzips his pants. His hard penis stands proudly erect and he strokes it a few times out of habit.
With the air of trying to get something unpleasant over with quickly, Winnie leans over and wraps her mouth around his cock. She bobs and swirls her head, flicking her tongue back and forth like a perverted snake.
Mike moans and his head falls back against the headrest at the almost forgotten pleasure that is the pulsing vacuum of a woman's hot mouth. Her lips close around one ballsack and then the other before returning to the slippery wet head of his dick. She wraps one hand around his member, the other still braced against the door, and begins sliding it up and down in rhythm with her fast bobbing head. He knows what she is trying to do, and isn't having it. He hasn't had sex in some time and knows he'll finish too soon if he lets her work his cock like that.
Irritated, he pushes her hand away. Grabbing the back of her neck in one big hand and the top of her head in the other, he begins to set a much slower pace. He forces her head down on his penis further until the tip of his cock butts against the back of her throat. He can feel and hear her gagging and it excites him even more.
Mike is now simply fucking the poor girl's face at his own leisure. He pulls his dick out and shoves it back into her mouth deeper and deeper with every thrust. He is panting and grunting, his balls tightening. The girl is gagging and whimpering and choking and gasping for air any chance she can get. The noise they make in the car seems much exaggerated in the smaller space. Mike speeds up until he can take no more. He holds Winnie, writhing and struggling, against his groin, and cums hard into her throat, giving her no choice but to try to swallow and choke down his spurts of sticky hot cum.
