I stuck a ketchup-dipped fry into my mouth and chewed as I eyed Corrine and Wanda.

Corrine was early-20s, like myself, single according to her ring finger, shoulder-length jet black hair, glittering blue eyes, lips slightly large back in those days before every woman had her lips artificially puffed up to ridiculous sizes, mouth corners naturally curled up so she easily grinned, a nice body hidden under her waitress uniform, and two wickedly sexy legs that just begged to be wrapped around my waist (so I imagined).

Wanda was slightly taller, about my height. She was maybe mid-thirties, married judging by the rock and band on her ring finger, and heavier in a sexy MILF sort of way. Where Corrine looked like she could fuck your balls off, Wanda looked like she’d done it many times. I would have gladly fucked them both (separately or together), but I figured Wanda was off limits, so I focused on Corrine.

I was in the Air Force, stationed at Luke AFB, just on the western edge of the Phoenix, AZ metro area. Unfortunately, it was 1971 and the Vietnam War had generated a strong anti-military sentiment among my generation. That, plus I still couldn’t legally drink which kept me out of the bars and nightclubs, really limited the pickings. I knew how to please a woman because I’d met a nympho (as I called her) a little over a year before and she’d taught me how to make her happy. Those teachings, which encompassed almost everything a man and woman could do with each other, carried over to almost every other woman I’d been with since. The less inhibited a woman was, the more fun we had.

As I ate my burger and fries, I sized Corrine up. Her posture always caused her breasts to slightly push forward, but in an unobtrusive manner. When cutting up, she’d sashay her hips which was quite sexy. And there was her mouth, which would often open in an “O” manner, which, to me, appeared to be looking for a dick to fill it. I had the sense that she’d be a hell of a fuck and probably open to many things. That was important to me. I had long left straight missionary ... hump, hump, cum, we’re done ... behind as too boring. Thank you, nympho.

A family of five came in and sat in Wanda’s area, so she grabbed a stack of menus and headed toward them. Corrine looked around her section and saw that everyone was still doing well. She came around the end of the counter and sat on the stool next to mine. “God, my feet are killing me,” she sighed. “I was called in four hours early because Suzy got sick. Thank God I’ve only got another hour to go.”

“It seems slow tonight. Maybe you won’t get any new customers,” I offered. She nodded. “Meanwhile, would you like a foot massage?” I’d learned foot massages from a waitress friend back before I’d met the nympho. She was married and we never were more than friends, but I’d learned how sexy a foot massage could be.

“Oh, my God, that would be wonderful,” she said with relief.

“Move back one stool and put your feet up on this one.” She did, opting to have just her right foot up for balance reasons. I slipped her shoe off and began massaging her foot through her pantyhose. “This would be better with oil and a naked foot, but I’ll make do for now,” I commented.

“I’d love to try that, too, someday,” she replied.

Her foot was still a little low, so I lifted it and placed my left leg on the stool under it. That caused her to tilt back, and she leaned on her elbow on the counter. “Are you comfortable,” I asked. She said she was so I went to work. Placing both thumbs side by side just above her heel pad, I wrapped my fingers around the top of her foot, pressed in, and slid my thumbs up along the arch, to the ball. Her eyes went wide, mouth formed that “O”, and she let out a sound that was almost sexual as her leg spasmed. That luscious, lickable, leg that went all the way up to what had to be deliciously juicy.

“Jesus Christ, that ... fuck, I can’t describe it.” I was shocked. I’d never heard her say “fuck” and rarely heard her curse. More fantasies of how she’d be during sex. I repeated the motion with a similar, but less intense result. “Oh, my God, you’ve got thirty years to stop that.” I chuckled and she giggled. I’d never heard her giggle, either. A couple of more times with that motion, then I moved to her toes, and then to the balls of her foot. She was looking quite relaxed after only about five minutes.

“Let’s switch. I have to tend to my customers soon.” I slipped her shoe back on, she swapped feet, and I repeated on her left foot. That one didn’t elicit the extreme initial response the right one did because she was already somewhat relaxed. It did, however, bring several aaahs and sighs from her. For a moment, I wondered if she was going to fall asleep sitting there.

“OK. That’s wonderful. God, I feel so much better. You’re magic. Thank you.” She stood after I slipped her shoe back on, gave me a tight hug, and went to work.

Wanda came up behind the counter. “Looks like you two were having a good time,” she kidded. Things she said often had a sexual undertone, but nothing I could ever call provocative. “That first thing you did, I swear you gave her an orgasm.” I laughed.

“It must have felt mighty good. I’ve never tried getting a woman off that way. Might be something to experiment with.” Wanda’s eyes grew wide, her face reddened, and she went off to one of her tables. “OK,” I thought, “That blindsided her.”

Corrine returned, also behind the counter as was proper. “Thank you again. I’m so energized right now.”

“Twelve hours on your feet is rough. Any time you or Wanda need a foot rub, I’m down for it. Just let me know.” I hoped, if I’d gained any chance with her, I didn’t blow it by including Wanda, but I honestly would give her a platonic foot rub, too. I enjoy making the ladies feel good, however that happens. I placed enough bills on the counter to cover my tab with a decent tip, said my goodbyes, and left. I had standby that weekend which meant I at least had to be at work each day on normal day shift, even if there wasn’t anything to do. With the number of guys in the shop, it only happened every six weeks.

Next Friday I was back at my stool in the restaurant. I don’t recall the name, but it was one of those many family restaurants in the style of what Denny’s is today, but also one of the many that no longer exist. A shame, too, because it actually had better food than the typically bland fare the others served. Corrine and Wanda hung out around my place at the counter when they weren’t with customers. This night was especially busy, so they were not there long enough to get into any decent conversations.

As usual when I had nothing to do the next day, I hung around until the end of their shifts at 1:00 AM. “We’re off now. Will you walk us out,” Wanda asked.

“Be glad to,” I replied. As they walked to the employee’s area, I noticed Wanda saying something to Corrine which had Corrine shaking her head. They came back out with their purses and jackets (even summer nights can be cool in the desert). We exited the building and headed toward the rear of the parking lot where the employees parked. They were parked two spaces from each other, so I stopped between the two and waited. As they walked away from me, Wanda turned to Corrine with a stern expression and motioned with head and hand toward me. Twice. Third time with gusto. She wanted Corrine to do something and it involved me, obviously.