Sarah's Backroom Waitress
A flirty waitress drags a regular into the backroom for rough, messy sex after closing.
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The last customer had shuffled out twenty minutes ago, but Marcus lingered at his usual booth, nursing the cold dregs of his coffee. The diner’s neon sign buzzed faintly through the front windows as Kayla flipped the OPEN sign to CLOSED with a decisive click. She didn’t bother locking the door yet. Not when she had plans.
For weeks the tension had been thickening between them like grease on the grill. Marcus, thirty-two, broad-shouldered and sharp-jawed, had spent every late-night visit eye-fucking the twenty-four-year-old waitress while she served him. Her uniform was a size too small on purpose: the white polyester stretched obscenely across her heavy tits, the short black skirt barely covering the lower curve of her round ass. Every time she bent over his table to refill his cup, she made sure he got an eyeful of cleavage and the lacy edge of her thong.
Tonight she was done teasing.
Kayla sauntered over, hips rolling, and grabbed him by the silk tie he still wore from his office job. Without a word she yanked him out of the booth. Marcus grinned, already half-hard, and let her drag him past the counter and through the swinging door into the dimly lit backroom. The space was cluttered with stacked cardboard boxes of napkins, industrial cans of tomato sauce, and metal shelves loaded with cleaning supplies. A single bare bulb hung from the ceiling, casting harsh shadows across her flushed face.
The second the door shut behind them, Kayla shoved him against a stack of boxes and looked up at him with raw hunger in her dark eyes.
“I’ve been soaked all fucking night thinking about your cock,” she confessed, voice low and filthy. “Every time I bent over your table I could feel my pussy dripping down my thighs. I need it. Right now.”
She dropped to her knees on the concrete floor, not caring about the dirt, and attacked his belt like it had personally offended her. The zipper rasped down. She yanked his slacks and boxers to his ankles in one rough motion. His thick cock sprang free, already rock-hard and veined, the fat head glistening. Kayla moaned at the sight, a needy, desperate sound that echoed off the cinderblock walls.