Pete was a sales rep for a company that leased office printers and photo copiers. He had a company car and there was a lot of travel involved. It meant that he spent a great deal of time alone and the occasional night away from home.
He told himself that he was ready for a sexual adventure but only managed to watch a load of porn on his phone and laptop in the basic hotel rooms which were all his company would permit him to use.
He had once been a fit guy and a keen rugby player but too many years of boozing and a sedentary life style had taken their toll. He carried too much weight and although the company insisted he wear a suit and a tie he always managed to look disheveled and apologetic. He found his schedule of appointments dull and tiring. Recently his sales figures had started to drop putting his annual bonus in grave doubt.
As is the case with many men his mind refused to acknowledge any consequences to the lifestyle he lived and he fondly imagined himself as crisp, debonair and a bit of a wild dog who only needed the right opportunity to have the women begging for his attention. Of course these same women would also be young, fit, and ready to serve his deepest desires. "Gagging for it" was the phrase he liked to muse over in his mind whenever he had some private time alone to flog his dick.
I am worried that reading this you may already dislike him. Perhaps if your sympathy is rapidly disappearing I can rekindle it by saying that he was not a bad bloke. He would not consciously hurt anybody or any thing. He liked animals and sometimes gave to charity if a box was rattled under his nose. He was just fundamentally lazy, believing success would one day fall into his lap (including the girl). He could not see that an affair or even a 'fling' required some proactive effort on his part.
On one of his regular routes he would stop off at a small roadside cafe for a typical 'trucker's' fry up meal and a mug of tea. It was a popular place serving generous portions of food, and a selection of sticky, sugar frosted cakes also available, on display behind a glass panel on the counter top.
It meant that the two women who ran the cafe were always 'rushed off their feet' as Elsie the waitress who served the tables would say when Pete asked her how she was. He never quite knew how to follow up this initial attempt at conversation.
She was young; probably in her mid twenties with big eyes and a sulky mouth. She sucked on her biro as she waited for his order. It was not meant to be suggestive and certainly not to please him as her eyes were already wandering towards the door where the next group of men were arriving with a lot of backslapping banter and loud laughter.
Pete hesitated with his finger on the menu and she leaned in towards him, tilting her head to see what he indicated. She had a slight figure and Pete caught the faint smell of a perfume and saw grains of blusher on her cheek.
"OK," she said, "The ham and two eggs with a mug of tea," and was gone.
He watched her after that as she moved among the tables swiftly and efficiently with her pen and pad, carrying dishes, or seizing a moment to wipe a table top or sort out the ketchup, salt and pepper in their wire baskets. She was slim with a white pinafore and a short black skirt that hugged her arse. Her long legs were pale and bare and she had black trainers on her feet with no socks Pete found this particularly attractive. He told himself that he would like to take her in hand and show her a good time.
Her fellow worker was far less visible as she worked behind the counter and in the kitchen at the back of the cafe. She was a large strong personality, who knew her customers well and joked with them in confident familiar terms. She would stand hand on hips, square onto the men opposite, presenting them with her large bust and bright eyes.
'Why haven't I seen you this week? She would call out to one of them, "Thought you'd forgotten me." Then wagging a playful finger shrill above the hubbub, "Not found another woman have yer?". This followed by a loud rattling laugh that more than matched anything the men could muster in reply.
Her hair was a dirty blond, hidden under the regulation net and she wore a nondescript dress with some sort of faded floral pattern. This was protected by an apron which was tied tight to show off the generous curves of her bosom and tummy. She worked hard, producing dishes at speed which she plonked down on the counter, calling out the table numbers for Elsie to deliver. Over time Pete learned that her name was Bella and that she had owned and worked the cafe for a decade and more.
Elsie brought him his food and moved immediately to attend to the newcomers, and Pete paused to look. She always moved swiftly, dipping and turning around the tables, notepad out, stopping only to take the next order.
