A room comes with a cost - Part 3 - Sexgeschichten

A room comes with a cost - Part 3

... ten."

"Shift? I thought we have an interview?", I asked confused.

"Interview? Girl, you will serve drinks and have to smile and bend sometimes. Anything more we will see. Trial shift will show if you have what's important for the job. But when I look at you it seems you have anything what you need."

I shuddered and stepped in the back room.

The room stank of old fries and sweat, a full-length mirror propped against crates. I stripped quick, jeans off, standing only in my bra and panties...

I slipped into the blouse first. It hugged my C-cups under the thin fabric. The skirt barely skimmed my ass, hem dancing on my thighs. Bare legs gleamed under the bulb, vulnerable, the breeze from the AC vent kissing higher than it should. I tugged it down, mortified, and stepped out.

Vic leaned on the counter, eyes widening.

"Turn for me, doll. Yeah... perfect. Bend over... grab that menu off the floor."

What? Heat flooded me. I bent slow, skirt riding up, cool air hitting my panties. His gaze burned... felt it on the curve of my cheeks, the lace outline. Suddenly I felt a slap at my butt. I jumped and straightened my body up again.

"Good girl. Loosen up out there... smile, flirt a bit. The Dawn Patrol loves fresh meat."

I straightened, face flaming.

"I'm here to work, not... whatever."

He patted my hip... brief check echoing in my head.

"Attitude like that? Tips dry up. Trial shift now. Impress me."

The first shift blurred into hell. Table after ...

... table: Truckers leering at my legs as I poured coffee, hands "accidentally" brushing my thigh when I set plates. The Dawn Patrol... four grizzled fossils in the corner booth, flannel shirts and watery eyes... started mild.

"Hey, sunshine, legs like that in this skirt? Dangerous.

I iced them: "Coffee black?" No smile, no chit-chat. One reached for the menu, fingers grazing my bare knee.

"Sit a spell, cutie... buy ya a soda."

"Busy," I snapped, turning away, skirt swishing dangerously. Their laughs followed, low and knowing.

After serving a drink I felt a hand at my thigh. I slapped the hand away.

"That's not on the menu.", I said cold.

"Ah… come on, baby. I have here 10$ saying otherwise.", an old guy held up a 10$ bill.

"Screw you. Keep your money. Anything else you want."

"We will see, babydoll.", another old guy said.

After some hours my muscles screamed... I'd cleared $5 in tips. Some nickels and a crumpled one with a "Try harder, frosty" scribbled on a napkin.

Vic counted the drawer in the office, cigar smoke curling.

"Five bucks? With that ass? C'mon, Sarah... those boys wanted you at their table. Beers flow, tips too. Loosen up, or..."

He stepped close, hand on my waist, thumb circling.

"Show me how you'd 'warm' 'em. Hike it... twirl."

My stomach dropped, echoes of home rules screaming. Brief check. Rebellion flared... "Fuck you"... but rent. The vid. I spun quick, skirt flaring, panties flashing white in the mirror behind ...