Message-ID: <17957eli$9812110444@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: mikaal@hotmail.com (HotScribe) Subject: HOTSCRIBE: "Unfinished Series" At The Cafe (MFF Cons Oral) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Reply-To: mikaal@hotmail.com Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <3670b028.2204579@mail.cadvision.com> The "Unfinished Series" include stories which, for one reason or another, I never finished writing. Your assignment, should you decide to accept it, is to write an ending, or the next segment, or a sequel to what has already been written. If you do manage to complete the story, I'd very much like to read what you've written. Good luck! AT THE CAFE by HotScribe Leaving you for a moment behind the booth table, I slide round and look out into the restaurant. Oddly enough, aside from the waitress at the counter and the cook in the back room, at the moment we are the only people in here. It would appear to be a good time for us to slip out unnoticed. I reach back to take your hand and, not watching what I'm doing, hit my cup of coffee. It falls over with a clatter, and the remains of the liquid splash onto your blouse. You shriek, more with surprise than pain since the coffee by this time is lukewarm. "Oops, sorry," I apologize. "It's okay," you reply. "No harm done." But the waitress has heard the noise and rushes over, notices the drenched condition of the front of your blouse. "Oh, dear! You're all wet!" That said, she pulls the towel from her waist, reaches forward and begins to rub down the front of your blouse where your nipples are quite obviously outlined behind the fabric of your blouse. "I'm all right, really--" you begin. "No, no--comes with me," the waitress insists. "I have an extra shirt in the back you can borrow until that one dries out." "Oh, I couldn't." "You certainly can't go out looking like that," I interject. You sigh, slide out of the booth and follow the waitress into a back room. From what you see, it must be the lunch room, for there is a table and chairs, a counter with tea and coffee containers, a fridge and a closet. The waitress rummages in the latter, then shortly removes a shirt. Meanwhile, rather than sit in the booth, I decide to wander to the back to see how you're doing. "Here we are," the waitress says. "You're about my size, so it should fit." She holds it out to you. "Thank you," you reply. You pull your blouse out of your skirt waist and undo the buttons. In a moment you shrug it off. The waitress look at you for a moment. "You do have a nice pair," she says matter-of-factly. "Are they real?' "Well, yes, of course," you reply. Then, thinking you can be just as smart, you say, "Are yours synthetic?" The waitress catches the joke and giggles. "No, they're real, too. Want to see?" Beofre waiting for an answer from you, she lifts up her sweater to expose her breasts. And she does have a nice round pair slightly smaller than yours, but just as full. By this time, I've arrived at the door which is open just slightly and I happen to ctahc sight of you both staring at one another's breasts. I stop, glance around the cafe to see if anyone else has appeared. No one yet. I peer through the crack again. "Yours are very nice," the waitress says softly, then suddenly reaches out to run her fingersover one of your nipples. You start, momentarly taken aback by her forwardness. "Th-thank you," you answer. "So are yours." Then, from the doorway, I see the waitress bend forward, open her mouth and plant her lips over your nipple. Your breath catches and you close your eyes. The sight has already sent messages to my cock. I lower the waistband of my shorts and ease it and my balls out. Already it has begun to harden. The waitress takes your hands, moves them to her breasts, places them there. "Is this okay?" she asks huskily. "Yes," you reply, not really sure whether it is or isn't, but certainly enjoying the electric sensations she's sent from your nipple to your crotch. You squeeze her breasts, feel the firm fullness of them, then run your thumbs across her hardening nipples. Already you feel a wetness between your thighs. The waitress pushes you slowly backwards and you feel the edge of the table against your buttocks. You allow her to push you down lengthwise on the table. You bring your feet up to the end, spread you knees apart to expose the lair of love between your thighs. I moan softly and grasp my rock-stiff cock as the waitress goes down on you, her tongue seeking out your clitoris and the channel of your sex. I can't stand it any longer. Quickly, I enter the room and close the door behind me. The waitress and you both see me, smile and beckon me over. You twitch on the table as the waitress' tongue fires your passions. I move behind the witress, tug down her skirt and panties. Bent over as she is with her legs apart, it allows me to view not only her own wet glistening sex, but also her tongue as it runs back and forth along your fleshy channel. Now she slides two fingers into your cunt, thrusting them in and out in a slow rhythm. Copying her, I kneel down, move my head forward and begin to lick her pussy, sliding my own fingers in and out of the depths of her hot cunt. My cock is pulsing so hard, it feels almost ready to cum on its own. So, leaving the waitress, I move round, climb up from a chair to the table, straddle your neck, then crouch down. You sense my presence. Your eyes open and you see my cock extended before them, my balls tight with desire. You grab my cock with your hand, pull it down to your mouth and engulf it with your lips as you fondle my balls. It feels so good to you to feel my thick cock sliding in and out of your mouth, the waitress' tongue and fingers working in unison, slipping sliding and thrusting across your clitoris and cunt. You gobble my cock more, now pumping it hard with your hand as you near the point of no return. I hear your muffled voice as you start to orgasm and it excites me more. and as your body thrashes on the table from the orgasm that explodes from the waitress' flicking tongue on your clitoris, my cock explodes in your mouth, filling it with my hot jism and you swallow it hungrily, sucking me further till there is no more to cum. Then, as we both moan and relax from the exertion, we hear the voice of the waitress from between your legs. "Excuse me--what about me...?" -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----