Clumsy Waitress

Maybe Jenna sucks at waitressing, but she knows how to smooth things over before the complaints start. When she slops coffee all over Tommy’s table, she clocks that the poor guy looks ready to flag her manager. Fine—mouth, cunt, pretty little feet—she’ll offer the lot if it keeps her job. She drops to her knees under the tablecloth, slurps his half-hard cock in one wet suck, hums around the head like she’s tasting the house special, and wipes every drip of spilt coffee off his lap with slow tongue laps. When Tommy groans and cracks his newspaper higher, she yanks the crotch of her panties aside, climbs onto the booth seat, and sinks down until she’s stuffed full, riding him in slow, silent bounces that make the coffee cups tremble. Each time the manager walks past, Jenna smiles bright, clenches, and bites her lip to keep from moaning. Between rounds she kicks off her flats, slides bare toes along Tommy’s cock in lazy strokes, toenails painted cherry red catching every eye that glances their way. Cum, soles, spit—whatever closes the tab, Jenna’s willing to pony it up right there between the salt shaker and the sugar packets.