Erotica - After Hours

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It was a lazy afternoon. Hot, sticky - typical day in one of New York's long hot summers. The kids downstairs had opened the fire hydrant, as usual. Mr. Boyd, the super, had been promising to fix the building's air conditioning for almost a week, but today was Friday, and no one had been in yet. Diane knew that he would never pay the exorbitant fees that the repairmen charged to do it on the weekends. So if not today, next week. Her neighborhood was gentrifying, but some things just won't change in a hurry.

She called Mr. Boyd one more time before leaving the house, and heard him arguing with someone in his lilting Trinidadian accent. Once he realized it was her, he just started yelling "someone is coming to do the work, everybody bothering me. I hot too." Diane just hung up. She gathered her belongings and ran downstairs to get into the taxi waiting to take her to the restaurant where she worked evenings as a waitress.

When she got to work, Diane put on her stupid uniform. She was a Hooters waitress, much to her mother's chagrin. She only did it two evenings a week, but they were the best possible evenings - and she knew that they were given to her because she was a beauty. Diane lived in Brooklyn, and this was the first Hooter's in Brooklyn, probably the first in any black neighborhood in New York.

The clients were demanding, but she gave them what they wanted, and got big tips as a result. The uniform was a tight pair of cutoff denim shorts, with the traditional Hooter's top - an orange ct-shirt with two owl eyes. Diane, a dark-skinned beauty, was 5'7" - not super-model tall, but she was still quite stunning. She wore heels, which made her look much taller. They were orange stiletto sandals.

Her toenails were painted a beautiful punchy orange color. She had really toned legs - but of course, what made her suited to the Hooter's job was her derriere. The shorts were about two inches two short - just enough to reveal the bottom of her behind, which was large. She had a small waist, but a huge, round posterior. It wasn't muscled and hard - it was firm, but it wobbled when she walked. The shorts were so short, that she had to get a Brazilian bikini wax, so that no errant hairs would show when she bent over.

She was embarrassed by the outfit sometimes, but she knew she looked good, and she made the best of it. She oiled her legs thoroughly (she had some thick ass thighs), and paid special attention to her butt. She pulled the low rise shorts up as much as she could without giving herself a camel toe, in order to have that rap video look that the boys liked.

She pulled the waist tight with a rhinestone studded belt. The top wasn't that great. She had a medium chest, but wore a water bra to push it up, per the management's recommendations. Her lips were always shiny with a honey colored gloss, that matched her amber eyes, and the brown highlight in her closely cropped curly hair. People always that it was a mystery that her hair was so curly and soft - it was simply aexorcizerurizer. She was a wash and go girl.

Her shift startppmat 6pm, they would open to the early after work drinkers. Her first table, Number 8, was a group of four men, well dressed, clearly execs, and clearly playing Friday afternoon hooky. They were laughing like they hadn't been out of the office after work in years. She quickly scanned for wedding rings. She only saw one. She judged quickly that they were in their early thirties. Diane walked over to the table (wobble), and when they saw her coming, they smiled. "Schoolboys", she thought.

"Welcome to Hooters, my name is Diane. It'll be my pleasure to serve you this evening. How are you this evening, gentlemen?" Diane's diction was perfect, as it should be. Four years of college, and she was in the second year of her master's program. She was all about school, but she was also broke. She could do this for another few months. The "gentlemen" couldn't care less about her credentials.

In fact, if she put a little hood in it, she found that they liked it better. Not too much, just a little. She switched it on, like an actress, and tried to put it in her walk (stick out the butt, shake it a little).

"Hey sis, what's good on the menu?" asked one of the men.

He predictably stared at her ass, predictably stressed the word menu, and predictably smiled widely, exposing his predictably white teeth. He was not the most attractive of the group, just perhaps the most outspoken. He was well dressed and typical and boring. Diane was prone to snap judgments.

"Why don't we start off with some drinks. We can get to the food after."

Diane returned his smile, tooth for tooth. Her eyes were warm, (she had perfected this look from years of her parents' parties at home).

"What do you like, beer or something a little harder?"

As soon as the word came out of her mouth, idiot schoolboy grinned again. His friend spoke up, seeing that his boy was about to embarrass all of them.

"We'll take a pitcher of someHeine kenineken if you have it on tap."

This one was cute. Very cute. Olive skin. Some kind of hazel eyes. Navy suit, blue shirt, purple tie fine.

She smiled as sweetly as she knew how, and said, "I'll be right back, with your beer, take your time with the menu."

Diane never entertained customers. They were like clients. She was lonely in New York, but was careful not to engage men for the sake of easing her feelings of loneliness. Desperation wasn't cute, and she had never been boycrazy. She filled the pitcher from the tap, and put it on a tray, with the glasses and napkins. For some inexplicable reason, she made a quick run into the kitchen, and grabbed some chicken fingers from under the warmer. The cook eyed her mischievously, he knew what she was up to.

"Thaaaankkks," she called back.

Before going back on to the floor, Diane ran her hand across her breasts. Her nipples reacted, and she quickly picked up the tray and walked in long casual strides back toward the men. As she put the tray down, she leaned over, without looking up. Her boobs were spilling out her top, and her nipples were still hard. She figured she would get at least 20% tip by the time she was done.

She gave them the chicken, and said, "This is on me. Do you boys know what else you want?"

She turned slowly and deliberately towards hazel-eyed cutie and smiled. He smiled back.

"We'll each take the grilled chicken sandwich with fries, and we'll need another pitcher with dinner. Thank you."

After she wrote it all down, she smiled and said she'd be with them in a moment. She went on to wait other tables until their food came out. She was astounded at the number of women visitng the new Hooters too. S

he had always thought that women weren't into Hooters - that they hated it in fact. But there were a few tables of women this evening, and she noted a number of the women were white. She kept her personality the same for the women too. Sweet, smiling, sexy. When their food was up, she went back to Table 8. As she put their food in front of them, she brushed her hips gently against their shoulders.

"What are your names?" she asked. Chiclets-for-teeth was named Quincy, Hazel eyes was called Mark, their companions were Isaac and Shaun.

"Well it's a pleasure to meet each of you. If I can get you anything else let me know."

Diane kept waitressing throughout the evening. Periodically Table 8 asked for more drinks, but short of that, she kept it moving. Finally, the restaurant started to clear out. It was midnight, two of Diane's tables remained - Table 8, and Table 5 - a table of women. They had both been given their checks, and paid. They tipped Diane more than she predicted. 20% from the ladies, and about 22% from the men. She observed that they were all putting on their coats to leave, so she cleaned up her stations, and went downstairs to the ladies lounge to change her clothes. At the bottom of the dimly lit staircase, she turned left down the corridor to the lounge. She was the only waitress left in the restaurant so she tried to make it quick so that the janitors would be able to clean up and go home too.

Suddenly Diane heard a voice behind her.

"Hey, I just wanted to say goodnight - and thank you for such great service." She turned around, and to her surprise it was Mark. He was substantially taller than she first thought. About 6'2" she guessed. He was holding his suit jacket and tie, and had the sleeves rolled up. He was a well-built man. Broad chest and big hands.

"That's sweet of you to come down here, but this is an employee area, how'd you get past the guard?"

"I told him I had to see you - and he told me to go ahead. He also told me that if he heard you so much as raise your voice, he would come down here and kick my ass. Plus he said he can see me on the monitor." A smile crept across his face. He had a beautiful smile, and Diane couldn't help but to smile back.

"So, is that all?" she asked. He leaned toward her and said coyly, "Well that's up to you." Since Diane had been in New York, she hadn't done anything spontaneous. She was not a wild child - rather, very serious and together. But something about his smile, and the way he was leaning towards her, made her lean against the wall, face forward, with her tremendous posterior out.

She turned her head sideways, and gave him a smoldering look. Her eyes flickered, and her smile disappeared. She parted her lips slightly, as she felt a surge in her lower abdomen. Mark stopped smiling too. He walked behind her, grabbed her hands, pressed them into the wall, and began to kiss the back of her neck. He licked the back of her ears, and pressed himself into her.

As Diane felt his dick against her butt, she lost all of her inhibitions. She wrenched her hands free from his grip, and lifted her shirt over her tits. Her bra was strapless, so as he unhooked it, it fell to the floor. Her nipples were hard and erect, grazing the smooth wall. She had long, full nipples - almost one inch long. Her lovers always relished them. Mark put them between his fingers, but feeling their seductive shape, he turned her around so he could see them and put them in his mouth. He looked at her chest - her breasts were relatively small, as were her areolas. But her beautiful dark brown nipples were big, long, and swollen.

He leaned downward, put one in his mouth, then moved to the other. He alternated back and forth, until both nipples were glistening with his saliva. He reached down and opened his zipper to free his cock from the prison of his pants. It was hard, and long enough to hoist his boxers up, and stick out through one leg. Diane's mouth watered when she saw the head poking out.
Her shorts had no real inseam, because they were so short.

Diane's pussy was exceedingly wet, and she could feel the juices starting to run down her thighs. She wasn't wearing panties - it was difficult with the shorts, and the crotch was now completely soaked. Diane reached down to move the thin sliver of denim covering her puss, and slid two fingers inside herself while Marked sucked her nipples. As it got to be more unbearable, she slid in a third finger, pushing hard to try and soothe the ache of longing.

Her hand was slick, so she used it to grasp Mark's dick, which was so thick, her fingers couldn't meet. She pulled him towards her.

"Easy," he whispered. She lifted one leg, and wrapped it around him, while using her hand to push the head of his dick into her pussy - only the head. They were staring into eachother's eyes, both breathing slowly and heavily. His breath caught when she pulled it out, and pushed it back again.

Suddenly she had another idea. She pushed him away, and dropped her shorts to the floor, still standing in her stilettos. Her pussy was shaved so there was a little tuft of hair on top, and nothing else. She turned around again, so that Mark could watch her rub her thighs together rapidly, causing her fat ass cheeks to slap together. Her clit was grazing the wall, which was driving her wild. Mark grabbed his cock which had fully displaced his shorts, drew her to him with the other arm, and pushed his cock into her pussy from behind.

That's how I want it, she said. Please hard and slow. Grind into me. It took great restraint, but that's what Mark did. He filled her up slowly, but ground all the way in, then withdrew, only to grind in slowly again. His dick was really big, and the friction made Diane nuts. She still found room to slide her third finger in with his cock, while using the long polished nail on her second finger to flick her clit. She could tell that he was having difficulty maintaining the slow pace. As he started speeding up, she used her fingers to rub her clit in time with the strokes.

She felt a little spasm in her pussy, and she knew he was getting ready to come, so she rubbed her clit harder. They came together - fast and hard, as she liked it. They leaned against the wall, breathing hard. Diane turned around and held his hands. With her head on his shoulder. He kissed her cheek softly. She reached down and pulled up her shorts while he got himself together.

When they were both dressed they looked at eachother. "I needed that," he said. "Me too," she replied. He started to say something else and started fumbling in his pocket, but she interrupted him, and stepped back. "Mark, thank you for coming to Hooters. We hope you'll be back soon." She turned on her heels and walked into the ladies lounge, leaving him mesmerized by the rhythmic jiggle of her rear.