Wednesday Night 3

I wrote this poem for a good friend. It's her fantasy, and I only hope I did it justice. Emily, if you're reading this, I hope it's everything you've dreamed of.

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I'd been working at Mitzy's Diner off and on since high school, whenever I needed cash, whenever they needed experienced hands on the floor. Summers, winters, every now and then during the school years when I wasn't too busy with homework. The owners were a sweet older couple, and anytime I wanted shifts, or anytime I needed to take a break, they were more than understanding.

I was in my second year of college, just barely turning 20, when the bills started stacking up again. My landlord increased my rent, I found out my scholarship didn't cover various lab fees, and my bank account was rapidly depleting.

The last thing I needed was another student loan hanging over my head, so I walked back into Mitzy's, smiling brightly as they rehired me on the spot.

And it was back to the usual routine: late night shifts, an influx of families, regulars, drunk college kids, and yes, the usual perv.

But I knew how to handle myself. I've gotten looks and come ons from a very young age. Not to brag, but my half Dutch, half Mexican heritage has blessed me with, well, what most might consider very attractive features: light brown skin, dark, wavy hair, big almond eyes. It didn't hurt that I'm 5'11" with 32C's, either. Add to it that our uniforms were a tight skirt which accentuated my perky ass and a low cut red polo top, and it was only natural that some customers would get the wrong idea every now and then.

And I mean, I knew how to handle myself, I thought I knew how to handle myself. It isn't hard to turn a man down, and aside from a lousy tip the usual rejected creep might leave, I'd never had any major issues, especially at work.

But all of that changed one warm, Wednesday night.

It had started a couple weeks before, around 9:30, after our big rush and when everything was dying down. He came in and took a seat in one of the booths in my section, and I figured he'd be quick and easy to handle.

He wasn't bad looking: tall, average build, must have worked out a little but not some huge meat head, with short brown hair and a piercing gaze. But he was obviously a little older than I prefer.

"Have you figured out what you'd like to order?" I asked that first night, and he looked me up and down, smiling intently.

"Yeah, I'd like to have you for dinner, but I can't find you anywhere on the menu," He laughed, giving me this wide, mischievous grin.

Like I hadn't heard that one before! I smiled, shaking my head and tapping the table.

"Guess you're gonna need another minute or two then," I told him, then walked off.

Usually guys take the hint when they're turned down that quickly and savagely, but not this one.

He kept hitting on me every time I came back, and even though I turned down his every advance, he had the gall to ask me for my number as he paid his bill.

"Sorry, hun, I never give my number away to customers. Slippery slope, you know?"

"Apparently not slippery enough," he laughed, "Guess I'll have to try again next week, huh?"

I shook my head and walked away, expecting another shitty tip when he left, but when I came back, to my surprise, he'd left me $40, even though the bill was less than $20.

I was sure it must have been a mistake, that he must be in the bathroom and he'd come back, expecting change, but after a while I realized he'd left.

That's when I knew he'd be back.

A few days went by and I'd forgotten about him. My mind was on school, work, friends, life in general, and to me he ceased to exist, until the next Wednesday night, when, just as we were beginning to die down, he walked in.

I rolled my eyes as I set down a menu in front of him, and he smiled up at me.

"Remember me?" He asked, staring me up and down.

"I honestly almost forgot you existed," I grunted, pouring him a glass of water.

"Wish I could say the same about you," he laughed, then ordered a beer.

I walked off to grab his beer and when I came back he was smiling, twirling his fork around his fingers.

"So what would you like?" I asked, impetuously.

"I think you know what I'd like." He answered, all cliche and rehearsed like a bad porno.

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. Do you know what you want or not?" I asked in a huff, but his smile never faded.

"A cheeseburger and fries," He said, then the fork slipped from his hand and fell a couple feet behind me.

"Don't worry, I got it," I said, my hospitable instincts kicking in as I bent over to get the fork.

"Well shit," He laughed, and I instantly blushed, realizing I'd been conned, "I might have to drop my fork more often if that's what I'm gonna get to see."

I turned around quickly, standing up and self consciously pulling my skirt down.

"Yeah, well, too bad you don't need a fork to eat a cheeseburger!" I snapped at him, storming off.

I returned with his cheeseburger and fries, setting it down a little too rough. The plate clamored, and he stared up at me with that same smile.

"Mmm, nothing like a big hunk of meat after a long day," He said, winking at me, and I just shook my head and walked off.

He only sipped on his beer, so I didn't bother checking up on him until he was done, just keeping an eye on him throughout his meal in case he needed more water. Luckily, that wasn't the case.

Finally, when he was finished, I came down and gave him the check.

"You know, I really think you should reconsider that little rule of yours," he said, stuffing two twenties in the check presenter and handing it back to me. "I could take you out somewhere real swanky, have a nice, romantic dinner, get to know each other, how does that sound?"

I crossed my arms, frowning down at him.

"That does sound pretty nice, the only problem is you'd be there," I said, almost laughing.

"Well," he said, standing up as I turned to walk away, "we could always skip dinner," and I felt his hand groping my ass, his fingers digging in deep.

"Oh!" I said, almost jumping out of my clothes. I turned to face him, ready to slap the smirk off his face, but his smile disarmed me and I didn't want to make a scene.

"No!" Was the only word I could muster, shaking my finger and storming off, blushing and burning red hot.

I saw him leaving out of the corner of my eyes, then I walked into the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water and trying to calm down.

"Hey, Emily, you ok?" Samantha asked, and I turned towards her, obviously a little shaken up.

"It's, uh, well, god, this guy, he's come in a couple times now, and he's so forward!" I groaned, setting down my cup.

"What do you mean?" Samantha asked as she mulled away at her side work.

"Well, he comes onto me, way too strong," I started, and she put down the silverware. "He asked for my number, and I told him no, but he keeps trying."

"You should tell Jeff next time he comes in, he'd kick that guy out in a heartbeat." Samantha looked concerned, but I looked down at the check presenter in my hand and shook my head.

"I don't know, he always tips over 100%," I said, and her eyes lit up.

"Over 100%? Emily, that's even more cause for concern! Guys don't spend that kind of money without expecting something in return."

I sighed, knowing she was right, but getting an extra $20 on a slow night, just for dealing with a creep? It wasn't such a bad deal, when I really thought about it.

"I'm ok, I can handle him," I said, shaking it off, "he might be a creep, but I get it all the time. It's not that bad, just-" I bit my tongue, searching for the right word that wouldn't alarm Samantha too much, "Irritating."

She looked at me, obviously concerned, but shrugged and shook her head.

"If you say so, but don't be afraid to get Jeff. If this guy gets any worse, you need to kick him out, even if he is a great tipper."

"Yeah, you're right," I smiled, brushing her back as I hopped out to the floor.

Next Wednesday I was ready for him, and sure enough, he came in right as we were dying down.

"Oh, you again," I rolled my eyes, tossing a menu at him and grabbing him a glass of water.

"You miss me, baby?"

"No, and I was hoping I wouldn't see you again," I snapped, and he just smiled.

"Well I can go sit in someone else's section if you want," He laughed, calling my bluff. I quickly shook my head, I'd had a terrible night money-wise already, I needed that extra tip.

"No, it's ok," I shrugged, "Want me to grab you a beer?"

"That's not the only thing I'd like you to grab," He said, eyeing me up and down.

"Cute," I huffed, walking off.

When I came back, he was sitting patiently, smiling at me.

"Cheeseburger and fries?" I asked.

"You've memorized my order already? I must be one of your favorite customers," he joked, and I couldn't help but break a smile.

"Not even close," I laughed, unable to take him seriously.

"Well you're my favorite," he said, sternly, "And I think I'm finally getting to you."

I shrugged and walked off, bringing him back his meal as soon as it was ready.

"You know, you really should let me take you out. Something tells me you could use a nice, romantic evening. And if you keep turning me down, you know, you might just regret it." He said with a mischievous smile, and all the red flags in my head went off.

"What do you mean, regret it?" I asked, the color flushing from my face.

"Well, missed opportunities, you know?" He laughed, biting into his cheeseburger, "You'll never get to find out how interesting and charming I can be."

I shook my head at him, frowning.

"Oh, I already know how 'charming' you are," I said, leaving him there.

He ate his meal and I finished up some side work, keeping an eye on him but doing my best not to make eye contact. Finally, when he was done, I brought him his check.

"You know, you really should take me up on that date," he said, stuffing two twenties inside without even looking at the bill.

"Never gonna happen," I said, and he stood up, tossing his napkin on the plate and turning to me.

He pushed me back against another booth, and I looked around but none of my coworkers were on the floor, just a couple of tables eating their dinner and paying us no attention.

"Hey," I whimpered, as he grabbed my hips and pushed himself close to me.

"This is the last time I'm going to ask," He muttered under his breath as I pushed away from him.

"Good, maybe you'll finally get the hint," I huffed, but his grip was unyielding.

"Maybe I will," He said, then he let go of me and turned towards the door.

I tried to think of something to yell at him, but I was still speechless when he stepped out the door and into the night

I tried to get him out of my mind, finishing up my side work and making a mental note to switch shifts with one of the other servers, maybe Jacob or Barbara, someone he wouldn't even bother messing with.

I ran over our conversation in my head maybe twenty times, until finally I got distracted and he slipped from my mind. Soon enough, it was 11, and I grabbed my purse and left.

Mitzy's shared a parking lot with a large department store, and when I'd arrived earlier, we were packed, so I had to park a little ways off. I made my way through the dark lot, thinking about what homework I'd need to take care of, trying to decide whether or not I should do it that night or wake up early in the morning.

I was walking past a few cars when I saw him, leaning against a black SUV, arms crossed.

"Hello, Emily," He said calmly, and I almost jumped and ran, but I recognized his voice and rolled my eyes.

"You again, you think waiting for me in the parking lot is gonna get me to give you my number? Yeah, right." I laughed, but he grabbed me and pushed me up against the side of the SUV.

"I don't want your number anymore, I thought I told you that tonight was the last I would ask you for that."

I squirmed against his touch, but he held my arms by my side. I thought to scream, but there was nobody around. It was useless, I was helpless.

"What are you doing? What do you want?" I asked, gasping at the feeling of his body pressing into mine.

"Well, I left in such a rush, I forgot to order desert," He said, turning me around forcefully and pinning both hands behind my back.

He slowly lifted my skirt, and I felt as my ass cheeks popped out, blushing furiously at the thought of him staring at my black thong and round ass.

He reached in between my legs, nibbling my neck.

"Mmm, cherry pie," he whispered as he stuck two fingers inside me, slipping in easily. I gasped, flustered and embarrassed.

"No, please, stop." I begged, shaking my head, trying to think of some way of getting out of this mess. "You were right, I should have given you my number."

"You know, you really should have," he laughed, pulling his fingers out and spanking my ass.

"Please, my job is really stressful, I'm sorry," I said, bouncing at the first slap of his palm against me. "I could really use a romantic date, I'd love to go out with you, please," I begged.

"It's too late for that now," He whispered, opening the passenger side door. He reached inside and pressed a button on the back of the center console, and the middle row of seats bent down automatically, slowly lowering into the floor and disappearing from view.

"Oh god! No!" I shrieked, but he tossed me inside and climbed in after me, closing the door behind him.

"Please, stop, you can't do this!" I begged, squirming and trying to open the door, but he pulled my shirt off and unclipped my bra in the struggle, exposing my tits.

"You should have been more polite with me," he laughed, as I tried to cover myself, backing up into the last row of seats. "You should have given me your number when I asked."

He grabbed my hands, pulling them behind me, and swiftly wrapped the seatbelt around them, tying a quick knot and binding me, clicking the belt into place and sitting back, staring at me.

"Please, not like this. We can go on that date, whenever you want, I'm sorry!" I sobbed, struggling and trying to get out.

"You're not getting a romantic date anymore," He said, spreading my legs and pushing my skirt up and around my waist, then he pulled my thong off, tossing it aside, "You're an uptight little cock tease, you don't deserve that. And besides, I still want dessert."

With that, he bent down, laying on the floor in front of me and rubbing my clit with his thumb, I could feel his hot breath on my pussy.

"Mmm, you're soaking wet, you like this, don't you?" He moaned, kissing my clit softly.

"No!" I squealed, my head rushing. "Yes, I like it, I'll do whatever you say, just not here, not like this!" I begged.

He started kissing my clit, sucking and licking, groping my inner thighs as I panted and gasped. I'd never had a man go down on me like that before, patient and slow, teasing, then fast and wild again. It sent shivers down my spine, and my legs kicked and shook, but my back arched, my tits pressing out, my chest burning red.

"Oh god!" I moaned, finally unable to hold it back, "Oh god, please, please don't make me!" I begged, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing me orgasm, but I couldn't stop it, I couldn't fight it anymore, and he only kissed and sucked and licked faster.

Soon, I was cumming. My body shook, beads of sweat dripping down my chest, my legs quivering, my breath short and quick, and in a rush of orgasmic intensity, my pussy contracted, squirting in his face, on his shirt, and all over the carpet of his SUV.

He stood back and laughed, wiping himself off, then reached forward and grabbed me by my throat.

"You liked that, didn't you?" He asked, and my body gave way at his touch, arching and bending towards him. When he pressed two fingers inside of me, I moaned, pushing against him and trying to bring him deeper inside of me.

"Mmm, no, please, god!" I gasped, and he pressed his fingers deep inside of me, rubbing my clit with his thumb.

"Ugh! Yes!" I shrieked, then he pulled out.

He reached behind me and unbuckled the seat belt, loosening my grip, then sat up on the seat, pulling out his hard cock.

"Get on your hands and knees," He demanded, leaning back.

I got on my knees, turning to face him, but wavering as I looked towards the door. I saw my shirt and purse huddled in a corner, and I tried to decide if I should make a run for it.

He watched me hesitating, then reached forward and grabbed my hair.

"Thinking about leaving so soon?" He asked, slapping me in the face.

I jumped, squealing, then he reached forward and pulled off my skirt, forcing it off of me, and grabbed my shirt from the corner, tossing me only my thong.

"Go, if that's what you want, you can go, but I'm keeping your clothes, you have to walk to your car in just your skimpy little slut thong." he said, pressing a button, and the door opened up. I could feel the warm spring air, a cool breeze blowing, and I looked out the door, holding my thong in my hand, almost hyperventilating at the thought of crossing the big parking lot wearing nothing but my panties.

"I-" I stammered, clutching my thong, "I-" but he reached forward and pressed the button, closing the door again.

"I guess you're staying," he laughed, grabbing me by the back of my head and pulling me back.

I looked up at him, trying to appeal to him in any way I could.

"Please!" I begged, and he shook his head.

"You had your chance, now open your mouth," He demanded, unbuckling his belt and pulling it off.

"No! Please! I can't, not like this!" I begged, then he reached back and I felt the belt coming down on my back, whipping my skin, burning and searing.

"Oh, no! not again, please!" I screamed, but he reached back, whipping me again, this time my ass.

I lunged forward, grabbing his cock and shoving it down my throat, slurping and sucking as he leaned back, relaxing.

"You finally get it," He moaned, grabbing the back of my head and shoving his cock all the way down my throat. It felt like I was sucking his cock for hours, slobbering and deepthroating him. He'd grab my head and shove me down all the way, his cock hitting my gag reflex, and I'd choke and gag.

He'd hold me down until it was almost too much, then let me back up for air. I was getting flustered, becoming worn out and worn thin, and I didn't know how much more I could take.

Then he shoved his cock all the way down my throat, my nose pressing into his crotch, and slapped my ass.

"Stick out your tongue and lick my balls!"

I tried to stick out my tongue, but his cock was filling my mouth, and it was almost impossible. I gagged and wretched, but his I couldn't fight his grip. I reached forward, cupped his balls with my hand, bringing them closer, and forced my tongue out of my mouth, finally doing as he said.

He let go and I fell back, choking and gasping, sobbing, my eyeliner running, my body quivering.

"Please! Stop!" I cried, and he waved at the door.

"You can leave anytime you'd like," He told me, smiling, and I looked at him, looked at the door, then looked back at him.

Timidly, I put on my thong, sniffing and sobbing quietly, ready to run to my car as quickly as I could. I reached for the door handle, but right as I was about to open it, he grabbed me from behind, pulled my hands behind my back, pinning them there with one hand, and pushed his cock against my pussy, barely penetrating me.

"Oh! Please! God!" I moaned, trying to squirm away from my cock, but he pressed it in, holding me still. "Please! You said I could go!"

He laughed and spanked my ass, slowly pushing his cock inside me. I could feel my pussy contracting just from him teasing me, my blood rushing and my entire body tingling..

"I changed my mind," He told me, "I'm not through with you yet."