Chapter 4

First Day — Anna

I look longingly after the handsome busboy. My dad's presence seemed to spook him and he's not checking me out any more. I take the opportunity to take him in. He has a nice enough ass, and a good built, in that college guy way, not like a jock. I wonder if he works here to pay for his college tuition. I sigh at the thought. That would be so cool. The poor guy, falling in love with the pampered cheerleader princess. I imagine him climbing the window into my room. Kissing one another in as perfect silence as we could keep. Imagine his fingers reach under my nightshirt while I hold my breath, trying not to wait my parents in the next room.

I have to come back to reality. I heard my mom tell my dad something and they both gave me a look. It wouldn't be good for me to get them to start wondering more about me. I may still be a virgin now, but I don't plan to remain so for much longer. I'm better off if they never get any suspicions.

They look so happy together. I envy them sometimes. They got over all that dating and getting your heart broken phase and they're happily married. I wonder if they're still having sex. I know they're young and people their age still have sex, but they're my parents! Parents don't have sex. It's just one of those things. After all, they might only be very good friends. Maybe they had sex once, when they had me. Or maybe I'm adopted and they never had sex at all.

Something about my dad makes it impossible for me to think he would put up with no sex. I heard my friends talk about him. I saw women glance at him. I even caught him checking out a woman's ass once in a while. I wonder if he ever touches other women. My stomach twitches, and to my horror it's not just disgust at the thought. I catch the look of the older gentleman sitting on a table across the room. Does he have a wife? Does he have a daughter who knows he looks at teenagers like that?

I have to excuse myself from the table. I pass by my admirer on the way to the ladies' room. My heart's thumping. Is he going to try to touch me? Will he follow me toward the bathrooms? I look him in the eye and try to lick my lips. It's like the Spidey testing his superpowers. I fail though. Can't hold his gaze and instead of licking my lips I bite my lower lip. No wonder Mark dumped me.

In the bathroom I lock myself in one of the booths and instead of crying or thinking about Mark, I slip my fingers under my dress, and under the lace of my panties. It takes me no time at all to come. Images of the busboy, the old man and my dad flash in front of my eyes while I rub my clit feverishly.

My eyes sparkle and my nipples hurt. I can see them poking through my dress when I look in the mirror over the sink. I wash my hands for a long time to make sure my hands won't smell like my pussy. The nipples are still hard when I get back to our table. God, I hope they can't tell what I've been doing.

- James

While my wife is studying the menu I watch as Anna excuses herself from the table and walks toward the bathroom. I try to keep it casual as if I'm looking around the whole room and in fact I am. There are a couple of pretty waitresses here and a few nice looking women sitting at the tables. I can't help but notice that Anna is easily one of the better looking girls here though. I see one guy in particular checking her out as she walks by. She doesn't seem to notice him but I can't really tell since her back is to me. I see his head turning as he watches her past. He's roughly my age.

I shake my head but I can't really blame him. I like looking at the pretty girls too. I reach over and put my hand on my wife's leg. She looks up at me and smiles. I smile back and ask her what she's having. "I think I'll have the chicken tonight." she says.

I spy the waitress approaching out table. She's one of the pretty ones with firm heavy breasts and nice well rounded hips. She gives us a professional smile and asks for our drink orders. I give her mine and then my wife chooses also. "What's taking Anna so long?" she wonders out loud and then decides to order her drink for her. "If she doesn't like it, we'll just order something else when we get the food."

The waitress leaves and is soon back with our drinks. I crane my head toward the bathroom. "Where is that girl?" I say half amused half aggravated.

Just then I see her heading back to the table. Her face is somewhat flushed and her nipples are clearly pressing out against her dress. I feel my eyebrows lifting in surprise. Has that little minx been playing with herself again? She slides into her seat and we begin to give our orders to the waitress.