A Tipped Wage

As their dinner comes to a close, Mike squabbles genially with his father in law for a few moments over who will pay the evening's tab. He convincingly lets the older man win and leans back in his seat, patting his wife's gradually expanding thigh. Cheryl doesn't so much as spare him a glance as she continues her no doubt fascinating conversation with her brother's wife Kate about stemless wine glasses.

Mike sighs a little, unsurprised. After 10 years of marriage, any intimacy between them has dwindled to just about nothing. He glances back at Walter, who is still struggling with the higher level math that is involved in paying a dinner bill.

The group is out this evening to celebrate Walter and Nancy's 30th wedding anniversary. Nancy is currently arguing with her son Wallace about the upcoming election (or rather, Wally's rather unreasoned argument is falling on intentionally deaf ears.) Certain that his conversation was currently unnecessary and all the others were focused elsewhere, Mike fixes his eyes back onto the waitress who'd been taking care of them that evening. She bends over to remove an empty plate from a different customers' table and Mike surreptitiously focuses on her ass.

The girl's black work slacks don't do a lot to show it off, but Mike imagines it in his mind regardless. It's not big, but the waitress is young, and that makes it hot enough. The women at the other table bray with laughter at something the girl says, and she grins, drawing Mike's eyes back up to her face. He studies it for a moment, puzzled. He has been trying to figure out how old she is all night. He figures that she must be older than 18, as she has been serving alcohol but he thinks she could be anywhere between that and about 26.

She really is lovely, and Mike thinks that is what is throwing him off. She doesn't look like a typical hot young woman, but more like a Gibson girl, or a silent film actress. Her skin is flawless- pale but far from chalky or ghostly. Her blonde hair is pulled back, but the wisps that have escaped from her ponytail emphasize her slightly downturned grey eyes. 'Bedroom eyes,' Mike thinks, with a small smirk. He always himself to fantasize for a moment about those eyes looking up at him with her mouth wrapped around his dick.

She, however, had been professionally polite and charming throughout their meal, and Mike comes back to the present fairly quickly, glancing over at Walter's credit card just long enough to see that he was leaving the girl barely a 10% tip. Generous for Walt, but Mike was sure the waitress was far more accustomed to receiving at least twice that. She comes back to the table to collect the credit card slip and wish them a great weekend when she sees that they are heading out.

Mike avoids her eyes when he passes by her, feeling oddly guilty about the poor tip that he did not give. He does however catch a whiff of her flowery perfume and glance at her rack long enough to see that her name tag read Winnie. It was cute. It suited her.

The group trudges out to the parking lot, moving slow from too much food and drink. Wally finally has the courtesy to end his sloppy lecture to his mother and bid the rest of them goodbye. Mike sees Kate's glance of distaste at Wally, who has slopped a bit of something down his shirt. Ignoring Wally's slightly drunken struggle to get his key in the door, Mike gives Kate a one armed squeeze and manages to graze his hands across her ample breasts. Either she doesn't notice or just chooses to pretend she didn't, but climbs into her husband's car and gives them all a wave.

Mikes shakes Walter's hand and kisses Nancy on the cheek. After hugging both her parents

and congratulating them, Cheryl and Mike walk over to their own car and head home.

Cheryl immediately turns on the radio and pulls out her phone. Mike's thoughts wander as he navigates the familiar roads. 30 years. Amazing.

He'd had been so sure that he and Cheryl would be exactly the same way, in love and happy forever. But for the past couple of years, their relationship was becoming strained and stagnant. Try as he might, Mike can't even remember the last time they had sex. No, recently he was reduced to jacking off in front of a glowing computer screen in his darkened office at the house.

His secretary had made a suggestive comment just yesterday. He wonders what she would do if he took her seriously. Would she go for it or would she backpedal fast, insisting it was all an innocent joke? He imagines himself slamming his hard dick into her, bent over his desk in the office, pulling her head back by her dark hair, planting a sloppy kiss on her arched neck, the sound of her moans..

.

"Kate says that Wallace is taking her on a cruise this winter," Cheryl interrupts, breaking the silence for the first time and bringing Mike's fantasy to a screeching halt. He isn't sure what to make of this comment and opts instead to remain silent. Is she jealous, or is she saying that she thinks it is tacky vacation? He never knows with her anymore.

Apparently annoyed at his lack of interest, Cheryl huffs loudly and turns to look out the window.

"So...what?" Mike asks, as he pulls the car into the garage next to hers.

"I didn't mean anything by it, Mike. I was trying to make conversation- maybe you remember what that sounds like!" She slams both her car door and the door into the house behind her.

Mike simply watches her go, feeling almost apathetic. He can't even muster the energy to be irritated or insist she calm down. He walks into the house and hears Cheryl rustling and slamming cabinets in the kitchen before her carpet padded footsteps and the sound of the tv being turned on.

"I left my phone at the restaurant. I have to go get it."

Mike isn't sure why he makes this up, but turns back around to re enter the garage. He drives back to the restaurant, despite the fact that his phone is in his pocket, where it's been all night.

He sits in his car in the parking lot for a while, watching the last of the diners exit and drive away, back to their boring lives. Mike takes out his wallet and counts the cash he has. Almost 300, which is odd as he usually pays for anything with his card. He takes this as a good sign. He doesn't have a plan per say, just a sufficient rage at his wife and a slight hard on at the prospect of what he has come back here to do.

Finally, finally, the waitress comes out of the building and heads toward the last car parked on this side of the restaurant, just a few spaces away from his. She has changed out of her work uniform and now dons a short blue dress with a plunging back. As she reaches her car, Mike pulls open his door and racks his brain for her name.

"Winnie!"

A variety of expressions flit across her face when she turns. Apprehension at being accosted like this in the dark, then recognition of him, and finally something like resignation as she remembers how her charm and wit at his table paid off.

"Did you forget something?" she inquires politely.

"No, actually I came back to find you. I know my father in law isn't a great tipper, but I thought you worked really hard tonight and deserved more," Mike replies. He takes his wallet out of his pants and counts out 50 dollars. Winnie smiles and steps close to take the cash. Instead of letting go however, when her fingers close over the money, Mike grabs her wrist with his free hand.

"Whoa there. I said you did a good job, but I don't think you've earned quite this much yet."

"What do you mean?" the girl asks in a now quavering voice, trying to tug her hand back.

"Well, I'd really like to give you this money, but I think you still need to earn it," Mike replies silkily.

"Keeping your wine glass full all night was no easy feat," the waitress responds with a feeble attempt at bravado. Mike's grip on her wrist tightens painfully and she gasps a little from the pain.

"Cute, but what I really had in mind was a blowjob," hisses Mike harshly.

"I don't think so."

"Think a little harder." Mike increases the pressure on her wrist, feeling increasingly angry at how easily she would have blown him off.

The girl's brow furrows. He can feel her pulse racing. She is clearly weighing her options. Mike still has a firm grip on her and could overpower her easily if she tries to run. She glances back at the dark restaurant. It appears that everyone has gone home. Any hope of someone finding and saving her is dashed. Dejectedly, she nods. Amazing what those in the service industry will do for a little money.

Mike opens the back door to his SUV and pushes Winnie none too gently inside- her purse falls to the cement. He climbs in after her and sees that she is already kneeling on the far seat and tying her long blonde hair back into a ponytail. Mikes smirks a little and and unzips his pants. His hard penis stands proudly erect and he strokes it a few times out of habit.

With the air of trying to get something unpleasant over with quickly, Winnie leans over and wraps her mouth around his cock. She bobs and swirls her head, flicking her tongue back and forth like a perverted snake.

Mike moans and his head falls back against the headrest at the almost forgotten pleasure that is the pulsing vacuum of a woman's hot mouth. Her lips close around one ballsack and then the other before returning to the slippery wet head of his dick. She wraps one hand around his member, the other still braced against the door, and begins sliding it up and down in rhythm with her fast bobbing head. He knows what she is trying to do, and isn't having it. He hasn't had sex in some time and knows he'll finish too soon if he lets her work his cock like that.

Irritated, he pushes her hand away. Grabbing the back of her neck in one big hand and the top of her head in the other, he begins to set a much slower pace. He forces her head down on his penis further until the tip of his cock butts against the back of her throat. He can feel and hear her gagging and it excites him even more.

Mike is now simply fucking the poor girl's face at his own leisure. He pulls his dick out and shoves it back into her mouth deeper and deeper with every thrust. He is panting and grunting, his balls tightening. The girl is gagging and whimpering and choking and gasping for air any chance she can get. The noise they make in the car seems much exaggerated in the smaller space. Mike speeds up until he can take no more. He holds Winnie, writhing and struggling, against his groin, and cums hard into her throat, giving her no choice but to try to swallow and choke down his spurts of sticky hot cum.

He relaxes for a few blissful seconds after this powerful orgasm before a stroke of genius hits him. The waitress is wiping saliva and cum from her mouth, looking disgusted and regretful. He wonders if she thinks fifty bucks was worth that. Quick as a flash (especially considering he isn't as young as he once was) Mike grabs the seatbelt from the other side of Winnie's head, yanks her hands up above her head, and fashions a strange knot out of the straps. Mike laughs. He has her trapped well. If she had a choice before, she certainly doesn't now.

"You son of a bitch," Winnie says venomously, ice in her voice and fiery hatred in her eyes.

Mike has to laugh again. The stupid girl got into the backseat of a car with a random guy who was insisting on a blowjob. Clearly she didn't think about what would happen when they finished.

Of course, Mike hadn't really either. Tying her up was completely spur of the moment. He feels himself hardening again. He's never completely dominated a woman before, only fantasized about it, and watch other men do it in porn. He feels a rush of power and adrenaline. Mike strokes the long blonde hair, and then pulls on it, hard.

The waitress gasps from the pain. Her neck is arched and Mike leans down. He kisses and licks the white column of her throat gently first. Then he bites down and sucks on her skin. He leaves blotchy red marks and trails of saliva on her neck.

She hasn't really made a sound or tried to fight him too much yet and this surprises Mike. He doesn't have any experience in taking women against their will, but imagines that there should be more pleading and begging for him to stop. He thinks that he maybe even wants her to.

He looks at her, still slightly confused. Maybe she's more open to this than he realizes. Maybe she actually wants him to fuck her as much as he wants to.

Winnie has a look of concentration on her face and Mike wonders what she is up to. Then he looks up at the seat belt twisted around her wrists. She is carefully trying to work her hands free, and no doubt escape. Mike laughs again, this time a little angrily. Her movements become more desperate when she sees that he has noticed her game.

"Ah ah ah," Mike shakes a finger at her, and removes his tie. "Don't forget you agreed to this, you little slut."

"I said I would give you a blowjob, not let you tie me up, you sicko!" She hisses at him, beginning to thrash around.

Mike sees that her erratic movement are indeed loosening the seat belt. He now uses his tie to confine her more securely and grins.

"Yes, but now you're trapped and locked in my car, so I guess we're going to have to come up with a new deal. Something more like- I get to do whatever I want to you, and there's nothing you can do about it. Oh, and I guess when I'm finished I'll decide what you've earned for your tip."

He reaches around her and unzips her dress. He'd like to cut it off her, but doesn't have anything in the car that would get the job done. He pins her legs between his knees so she can't move and grabs the hem of her dress. None too gently, he yanks it upward over her head, exposing her bra and panties, and leaves it bunched pathetically around her elbows above her head.

Suddenly, a pair of headlights sweeps over them, illuminating bits and pieces of the interior of the car.

"HELP! HELP ME PLEASE, Oh god somebody PLEASE HELP ME!" The girl is screaming and smacking her hands against the windows. Mike slaps her hard across the face, leaving angry red welts on her soft cheek.

He begins to panic. What if it's the cops? How will he explain this? Should he drive off now, do they already have his license plate number?

"Shut up, you fucking whore!" Mike hits the girl again.

But the car is just using the parking lot to turn around, and they're gone in seconds. Mike's nerves are frayed, and he wants to shut the waitress up.

His pants and boxers are bunched around his ankles from his earlier blowjob and he now removes them with his shoes. Leaving the other things on the floor of the car, he grabs his boxers and shoves them into the whimpering girl's mouth, careful not to let her bite his fingers.

He pulls his shirt over his head and turns back to her.

"Now where was I?" Mike asks, as though he could have forgotten. Somehow, almost being caught has turned him on even more, and he focuses his attention on the rest of Winnie's clothes. No need for these.

He unhooks the girl's purple bra and it joins her dress above her head. He cups each one of her firm young breasts in his hands and gropes them, running his thumbs across her nipples. Her breasts aren't large, just enough to fill his hands. He begins to touch them more roughly, the way he always wants women to allow him to handle their breasts.

Mike puts his head down and sucks hard on one of those tender nipples, using his teeth and tongue until it stands erect. He gives the other nipple the same brutal treatment, and then rubs his palms all over them.

His dick is starting to throb painfully. It's time.

Mike looks at the girl's pink panties. They have lace edges and little white hearts. He wants to keep them. He slides them down her hips and legs, ignoring her muffled whimpers, and tosses them into the front seat.

She has a small line of hair leading to her slit, but is otherwise completely waxed. His wife never did that for him. He works his nose in between her legs and inhales deeply. Ah. Just what he hoped she'd smell like. He debates tasting her young cunt, and works a finger into her tunnel experimentally. She's moist, but not wet like a woman wanting to take a cock in her.

Fine. If she doesn't want to enjoy the inevitable, then Mike certainly isn't going to work her with his mouth first. Not while his cock is straining to start humping her.

He unbuttons and pulls off his shirt, and it joins the other discarded items in the front seat. Mike stops for a moment, trying to assess the situation. In a porn video, this would be the kind of time where the scene would just cut to fucking, probably zoomed in on the dirtiest action. In real life, he is unsure of really how to proceed. He grabs one of her legs and hikes it up on the middle headrest, then pushes her other leg down out of the way. It doesn't look comfortable, but what does he care? He can fuck her this way. Probably.

Mike grabs his hard on and guides the head of his dick to the waitress's cunt. His breath catches and in one thrust, slams his whole length into her. She screams into her boxer gag and begins to sob. Mike frowns. That didn't feel as good as he always imagined that it would. Her completely lack of lubrication is unpleasant, like jacking off in sandpaper. Ok not that bad, but certainly not good.

He doesn't care what she likes or can handle, but decides that he'd prefer that her cunt was wet, so he could slip his dick in and out of her to her heart's content. Readjusting, he situates his mouth around her pussy lips.

Mike dips just the tip of his tongue into the girl's cunt before burying his nose deep inside her and inhaling deeply. Good god, she really is a treat.

He begins sucking on Winnie's clit with varying levels of intensity. Feeling her start to jerk and twitch under him, he breaks off and grins up at her tear stained face. He's never felt so powerful before. He starts flicking his tongue over her now unhooded nub and feels her fleshy lips pressed against his chin grow hot and wet.

Though still unwilling, she is a sexual being and cannot help her body responding to such administrations.

Mike again tests her lubrication with his fingers, and this time he has no problem sliding his fore and middle fingers in and out of her wet cunt. Now he is really ready to fuck her.

Repositioning himself, he once again presses his dick into her. Though she is young and tight, her pussy is now perfectly wet and almost painfully hot. It feels like a dream.

Grabbing her hips, Mike begin thrusting into his waitress to his hearts content. He starts slow but is soon slamming his cock into the girls cunt, rapid-fire, balls deep. His grunts sound animalistic even to his own ears and he barely registers the fact that Winnie's hips thrust in rhythm with his, a reflex she cannot control.

Too soon, much much too soon, Mike can take no more. His balls tighten more than he can stand. He thrusts one final time into the girl, deeper than before. He cries out and shoots his load into her cunt, his cock twitching and jerking inside her.

For several moments, Mike can't even move. Then he sits back on his seat and tries to catch his breath, refusing to think about what he has just done. He finds he can no longer look the waitress in the face, or even at all, and pulls his own clothes back on before reaching up to untie her from his seatbelt and necktie trap.

Mike climbs out of the backseat and pulls his wallet.

"Get out," he snaps sharply at the girl, who is still crying earnestly, though now silently in the back seat. His voice sounds more collected than he feels, and that knowledge helps him regain self control.

Winnie clambers out, adjusting her dress, and stays just out of arms reach. Mike feels a fresh surge of irritation at this. What does she think he's going to do? Hasn't the worst already happened?