Fuck in the restaurant with the waitress

While I had been fantasizing about her small breasts for weeks, the waitress offered me the most tantalizing dessert: a fuck in the restaurant.

O- Oh, are you having a coffee? Antoine's question brings me out of my daydream. Around the table, amused looks. "Leave him alone, he was thinking about his little waitress again!" The guys laugh, each trying to outdo the other with the great story of Raphaël and the little waitress. I protest a little for form's sake, but they are right. She has been obsessing me for weeks. Ever since our first dinner with friends at this restaurant and her first smile. A sudden appearance of her dimples turned my brain upside down and made me instantly stupid. Every time she approached our table, I cracked jokes so lame that my stomach collapsed on itself with shame. But she laughed at those lame jokes. Several times. And from her eyes to the hollow of her cheeks to the beginning of her small breasts, the way she swings her hips as she crosses the room, the discreet gold jewelry that catches the light under her strict hairstyle, the roundness of her ass in those black pants, everything seemed incredible to me.

Of course, I dreamed of her that night. It was a rather chaste first dream, lots of caresses and a few kisses. I was undoing the buttons of her austere work shirt, revealing a lace bustier. Her skin was pale and warm, dotted with beauty spots. She nibbled on my earlobe while brushing my chest. The tantalizing beginnings of a restaurant fuck interrupted by the alarm clock. I woke up sweating, with a painful erection, consumed by the desire to tear off that bustier and grab her nipples between my teeth.

The following Friday, I used all my persuasive skills to convince the team to return to that restaurant. Everything was mentioned, the recipe for farm-raised poultry, the comfort of the dark green fabric armchairs, the beauty of the real ivy that colonized the back wall. I talked about everything except her, and no one was fooled. "Raphaël's little waitress" dates from that evening. We have returned there three times since. Each time, I encouraged myself before pushing open the door, promising myself that I would ask for her number, invite her for a drink, and kiss her. Each time, she laughed at my questionable jokes, brushed my fingers as she handed me the menu. She looked at me for a few seconds longer than politeness dictated when taking my order, and I melted imagining her eyelids trembling at the moment of orgasm. Yet, each time, I remained frozen and lowered my head as I entered my PIN.

The waitress is so sexy

But tonight, there is something different. A slight electricity in the atmosphere, a little more makeup on her face, a determination in her gestures. Antoine adds a round of cognac to the coffees, and when she brings the tray, I notice that we are the last customers. It is late, the cook and the other waiters left a long time ago, the curtains have been drawn. The empty part of the room is in shadows, only our table and the counter are still illuminated. The guys have finished their glasses and are getting ready to leave, debating what to do next, wanting to go to a club or a bar, I don't know where. Me, I want to go between her thighs, between her breasts, between her ass cheeks, the waves of desire that wash over me are almost unbearable. And then, it happens. Just like in my dreams. As I'm about to pay, while the guys are horsing around and getting ready for a night out, she whispers to me, "meet me behind the restaurant." I miss my PIN, pins and needles prickle all my muscles, my cock instantly hardens, stretching the fabric of my pants.

I have a hard time getting rid of the group of friends; they don't appreciate my excuse of being tired and leave me with a few boos. I don't care; nothing else matters but what is about to happen. I walk down the alley, and she is there. She is smoking a cigarette on the doorstep in the back courtyard of the restaurant. She watches me approach, smiling, stubs out her cigarette, and grabs me by the neck. Without a word, we kiss. Finally.

Her mouth is as I imagined it, soft and full lips, a slight taste of tobacco that disgusts and excites me. Her tongue slips between my teeth, I catch it and nibble on it. Without letting go of me, she opens the door, and we stumble back into the room. All the lights are off except for a thin string of lights behind the counter. She pushes me onto a large sofa, stands in front of me, and slowly undoes the buttons of her shirt. She is not wearing a bra, pale nipples and milky skin standing out in the dim light. Her small breasts are just as I had imagined them, round and dotted with beauty spots. She is enchanting. She lets the fabric fall to the floor, starts to undo her pants. She is not wearing panties either. In this diffused light, the fine curls of her pussy have the effect of a dessert to be devoured without leaving a crumb.

My clothes disappear in turn, and I pull her towards me. I taste everything, her nipples in my mouth, my tongue on the inside of her thighs, her ass in my hands, I don't want to miss a crumb of her skin. Her breath quickens, and she moans softly as I run my tongue over her clit. Her pussy smells like peach and happiness; I slide my fingers inside as I continue to play with my mouth. She moans a little louder, and I speed up, my other hand brushing her asshole, everything is soaked, slippery with cyprine. I feel my swollen cock rubbing against the velvet of the sofa. It seems to me that I am going to come just from having her body under my fingers, her pleasure in my hands. Her fingers grip my hair, and the melody of her stifled cries guides me until she comes. A burst of voice and her legs twitch, her body relaxes.

I gently kiss her curly pussy and her stomach as she sits up and makes me sit down. My cock erect towards the sky, she kneels down, spits on it, and takes it in her mouth for a moment. Seconds of ecstasy. Her throat is so soft, her tongue so agile, her fingers around my balls so effective that I am almost relieved when she stops to come and straddle me. My hands grab her hips; I am ready to plunge into her, to fulfill this fantasy that has haunted my nights for weeks. I have dreamed so much of her neck, of feeling her quiver between my loins, the moment feels like it is still a dream. She kisses me and tickles my tongue with hers, without letting me penetrate her right away.

Her face lit up with a smile, her hypnotic dimples, she plays at letting the tip of my glans pass her lips before pulling back. She pinches my nipples as she slides my cock between her ass cheeks. She bites my neck as she rubs her pussy against my testicles. She presses her breasts against my chest, rolls her hips, moans in my ear. She does everything, everything except sink my cock deep inside her, and I feel like I'm going crazy. I grab her little ass, press her against me, and finally, she sits on my dick.

The inside of her pussy is burning and soft; I plunge into it with delight, again and again. Her hip movements are diabolical, and her ragged breathing increases my pleasure even more. We lose ourselves in each other; our bodies are gleaming, her hard nipples against my chest, her mouth everywhere, the little convulsions of her pussy. I am covered in goosebumps and could come at any second.

I hold her tightly and tickle her ass; the tip of my middle finger slips in naturally. She gasps with pleasure; her nails dig into my skin. The slight pain increases my excitement even more; I feel that it is now. I plunge my finger and my cock at the same time; she moans, her voice becomes deeper, her hip movements faster. More, more, my head is spinning, my cock is going to explode. She pants "now," and I thrust into her one last time, releasing everything. Our cries merge, and we stay there, clinging to each other, panting, shivering.

I don't really know how I left, but here I am in the street, under the glow of the streetlights. There are missed calls and messages waiting on my phone; the friends can wait until tomorrow. My legs are a little wobbly; my cock is all soft. I smile foolishly, thinking of the velvet sofa and tell myself that I can't wait to taste the other dishes at this restaurant.