A Sweet and Obedient Waitress
by angiquesophie
Copyright© 2007 by angiquesophie
Erotica Sex Story: Brigitte served. She served well. Even all the sweet things that were not on the menu.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Fa/ft Consensual DomSub .
One evening she saw the husband of her best friend walk into the restaurant. He had a very slutty girl on his arm. She was tall, a classic platinum blonde with tits twice the size her tube top could handle. Her face was cute in a Barbie kind of way. But it was heavily made up. Her mouth screamed cock, her eyes begged: fuck me.
Brigitte held herself back not to embarrass the man. Through him she might hurt Justine, her friend. Although she doubted that he would recognise her. She had been at their wedding. She even had been Justine's bridesmaid, but that was a few years back now. And Cédric was, well, let's say not the type to remember faces he saw outside a mirror.
"Tu connais l'homme lá? Et sa putain?" a throaty female voice said at a table right beside her.
Brigitte started and turned. She looked straight into the chuckling face of a business type woman in her thirties. She had straight brown hair, an intelligent face. There was a twinkle in her gray calm eyes and a new cigarette between her long, slim fingers. She looked like a strong woman. She had a strong voice too, but with a surprisingly sensuous edge.
Brigitte agreed that she knew the man. She added he was the husband of her best friend. This made the woman click her tongue. She added a soft oh-la-la. Then she asked if this was a place for men to take their maitresses to. Brigitte thought about this, but no. Although it was a favourite hangout for corporate types, she didn't think so. But yes, she had to agree, this definitely wasn't Cédric's wife. She definitely wasn't his secretary or business partner either.
The woman chuckled her throaty laugh at this again. She reached out a hand to lay it on Brigitte's arm. She asked her if there was anything on or off the menu, which she would recommend. The hand seemed to send little pulses through her skin. Brigitte immediately understood what she meant by off the menu.
But she dutifully pointed out the specialities. She also dwelt on the fresh délices du marché. She felt herself smile beyond the call of duty. And she noticed how she started to respond to the cool and easy gaze of the woman. The husky voice seemed to tighten its control with every new word. It caught her in a soft web. It subtly wove a cocoon of intimacy.
Brigitte returned to bring the wine, the entrée and the dessert. And each time a new sweet layer was added. At last she brought the coffee and the bill. She did not even blink when the woman told her to go to the restroom and wait for her in one of the stalls.
And please to get rid of her soaked panties.
In the last half-hour every touch and every whisper had made the short hairs in her neck rise. They made her nipples tingle and her crotch itch. When she walked to where the restrooms were, her knees trembled. The wetness of her panties made her thighs squish at every step.
In the room two lady guests were checking their faces. They gossiped in a flat Canadian English. Brigitte smiled at them, Then she went to the first stall. She got out of her soaked panties and sat down on the bowl. She stared at the closed door. She felt a throbbing pulse in her throat. The scent of the balled up panties in her fist started to permeate the air. They made her nostrils flare. My God, Brigitte, she thought. Now who is the whore here?
But she did not move.
She just sat there and heard the ladies leave. She sat and waited for the woman to visit her. She was ready to do whatever she was supposed to.
At last she heard the door to the restaurant open. She noticed the click of heels. They hesitated for a second. Then they came in her direction. The stall's door opened. The woman stood silhouetted against the cream tiled background.
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