Jodi's Juicy Burger

Two broad feet of white and pink cloth stretched taut against two perfectly round lumps of rump hovered over the table in front of me. What it led to God only knew but for the moment I was content to stare, the saliva stirring fast in my mouth and my own slab of meat growing harder by the second.

I wasn't the only one staring either; two muscular, dirty men in white shirts, ripped jeans and work boots sat at the table she was humped over, licking their lips as if they were hungry. And maybe they were; after all, Jodi's Juicy Burger was the most popular burger joint in the region. But seeing this glorious piece of ass in front of me I could see why—food be damned!

She straightened and turned to face me. Her work dress was too small or her bust was too big. Either way she was meaty in the two places it counted. I didn't want to tear my eyes off the flesh tearing itself out of her blouse but even when I'm hard up I like to play the gentleman. It was just as well that I did so because her face rounded out the picture perfectly. She was in her forties, rust red hair, wrinkles creeping in around ice blue eyes, lips made up a shade too red and natural eye shadow from a life spent busting that bubbly butt—not to mention too many late nights with rough men.

"What can I get ya, hon?" Her voice was sharp but inviting. It demanded an answer but hinted she already knew it and if you played your cards right she might show it to you after work.

"Um..." The truth was that I hadn't even looked at the menu, just stared past it at the meal I really wanted. "You know what, why don't you surprise me?" It seemed lame, desperate even, and not likely to get me good food

or

service. Still, I'd tip her extra and have some memories to take back to my bed at night.

"Sure thing," she said with a wink.

She swatted my shoulder playfully with her notepad before hurrying back to kitchen. She knew the game and she was the type to play along. Even in diners you don't find that often anymore; too many touchy feminists who think male attraction is degrading. But more men have found rapture in the arms of waitresses than in the arms of God—it's worship of the most tangible, open, and flattering kind.

"God, did you see the ass on her?" one of the construction workers asked.

If God exists, I'm sure he has I thought with amusement. Not only has he seen it but he's seen it bare, raw from rough handed spankings, blushing with pleasure as it bounced on a bruiser of a cock. He's seen it in the shower, wet and glistening and warm with water travelling down its cheeky trail. He's seen it stuffed with a massive glass butt plug as she gripped the rails of her bed with one hand and furiously rubbed her clit with the other, her head thrown back, her body rocking as cries of pleasure bounced off the walls before she collapsed into her soft, threadbare sheets in ecstasy, that glass plug heaving back and forth with muscle-clenching aftershocks.

"Hell yeah I did," the other worker said. With a massive, calloused hand he swept the air in a spanking motion.

I was not surprised to see other men having similar thoughts but it still made me jealous and all the more so because these brutes were the type who got to fuck her. In fact, she might let both of them fuck her at the same time, one splitting her round ass apart with an oversized dick the other getting too red lipstick tattooed to the base of his cock. She'd gag, spit, gasp, slap at the front man's thighs in desperation, tears rolling down her eyes. Her body would shake, every inch of her wound so tight she'd feel ready to burst. And then she would burst, burst with a scream, maybe even squirt all over the floor. And then they'd burst, one shooting cum on her forehead to run down her nose, the other glazing her buns so thoroughly you'd think someone had spilled a glass of milk on them. At last they'd all collapse into a pile, spent and satisfied—for the night at least.

Of course, in the morning they'd go back to their jobs, back to being dissatisfied. Not that their jobs were bad or dishonorable, just that life had suckered them into them instead of sweeping them into something a little more... What, lucrative? Not even that, just something a little more free. They were both trapped, her and the men but at night, as a threesome, they could let their dreams loose.

The kitchen doors swung shut with a thump, snapping me out of my reverie. My red-hot waitress was back, sweat trickling down her neck and into her blouse. In one hand she held a plate with a burger that must have been at least half a pound and in the other she had a tall glass of milk. "Here ya are big boy," she said, "This'll keep you standing up. Just holler if you need anything else."

By then I wanted to holler, holler until I was hoarse with the pleasure of those soft, bulging thighs. She probably knew it too; my face must have been easy to read by then. If it wasn't hidden under the table she could see it in my pants bulge too. Sadly, it was the only part of me that warranted the "big boy" remark. I prefer to think of myself as slender but macho guys like those construction workers usually call me scrawny. Either way I don't get to use my big dick on a real woman often.

"Say girlie, why don't you come sit in my lap a minute?" one of the construction workers asked, spreading his legs apart.

"Oh sugar, I'm long past being a 'girlie'," she replied.

"Well that's alright, I'll let you sit here anyway."

"I appreciate the offer but as you can see I've already got a seat," she said as she patted her rear end playfully.

"You sure do," the worker said with a guffaw.

I smiled and wonder if she was for real or if she was just toying with the guy. After all, she'd have to be a hell of a woman to sleep with

all

of her male customers. A quick scan of the room confirmed there were a lot of guys in there; fat, skinny, buff, tall ones, short ones, some balding, some bald, others with a full head of dyed hair, a few plain vanilla types like me. All those men, all those dicks—it'd take a hell of a woman.

It turned out I was only man enough for half of my burger and half of that was grease. I downed all of the milk to salve my wounded ego. Still, I couldn't keep my eyes off her. So I ordered a slice of pie and picked at it. After a while I noticed even the guys with guts were picking at food they were too stuffed to eat. In fact, nobody was leaving and nobody was throwing them out. It was as if this were normal.

Night fell. Closing time came and I figured some burly woman named Jodi would appear and tell us to get lost. Instead the place started to go quiet except for pots and pans banging around in the back. Then several greasy cooks came out, followed by the waitress.

"Alright boys, you know what to do," she said. A cheer went up and every guy in the diner whisked the tables in the center of the floor out of the way and started stripping of their clothes, including the cooks. It felt like a crazy porno flick and sometimes I still wonder if it really happened or if I dreamed it up. Either way is just as good because at that time I was too confused to take off my clothes, so the waitress came over and said, "You need a little help?"

I swallowed hard. She ran her hands, hands with long, pink nails on them up my fly, pinched the zipper with thumb and index finger and slowly, excruciatingly tugged it down. Then she eased her hand past the fly of my briefs and pulled out the beast. It was red, swollen, and sweaty from the long day staring down her behind. She slid her nailed hand past the sensitive head and down the veiny shaft to my scraggly pubes. She twirled and played with the springy hair, then gave my balls a caress as if sizing them up. She patted and squeezed them, then ran her nails back up the shaft and pinched it just behind the head. Then she lolled her tongue out and gave the head a lick. My heart about burst from my chest and my semen about burst from my prick. "Goddamn," I thought, "I'll never even get to enjoy it." Her tongue travelled down my shaft, then flattened itself against my balls. It was so wet, so warm. I couldn't take it anymore. I grabbed both sides of her head, pulled it back, and shoved my cock straight back to her tonsils. She wretched but her hands shot up to my balls. She wanted it, needed it, just as I had imagined.

She was on her knees, leaning over so her beautiful ass was thrust up in the air. The cheeks were big, bouncy. I slapped one just to see it jiggle. A buff black guy with basketball-player hands came up behind her and gave it a real whack. He looked up at me and said, "Just like Jell-O, huh?" I nodded and worked her throat, letting my cock get wetter and wetter.

The black guy spit in his hand and started stroking his cock, letting it slide along the top of her ass cheeks. Even his monster cock looked a bit small resting on her marble mountains but he didn't seem to mind. He pulled it back and jammed it right between her cheeks, all but his balls disappearing completely. She closed her eyes and whimpered. He adjusted his stance, put his hands to her waist, and then pounded wildly away, his eyes clenched shut, the veins in his neck and arms bulging, his leg muscles twisting and writhing to get every pound of force out of each thrust. And when he pulled out his load spewed from her neck to her gaping asshole. The man faded back and suddenly the whole diner was on her.

The rest was a blur of flesh, her ass getting worked at every angle, sometimes with two dicks at once. Sometimes another guy would join me at her mouth. Her jugs flopped wildly back and forth, side to side, as she was slammed around. Always that fat ass was in sight, begging for more and getting it until everyone had dropped from exhaustion.

That is, everyone but me. I don't know how but I held my load back through it all. My nuts ached as they never had before, my head was so sensitive I could hardly stand it but at the end of the night she was there covered in cum, bent over a table, looking at me as she playfully licked semen from her fingers. "You're not done yet are you big boy?"

In response I dug my fingers into her ass cheeks and shoved them brutally apart to reveal the oozing, gaping hole that couldn't be conquered and couldn't be satisfied. Yes sir, she was a hell of a woman and she was more than ready to have my manly—gentlemanly—cock inside her pooper. Well, what the fuck, I thought. I jammed it in and said, "You're a filthy slut."

"And you are a true gentleman," she replied.

I smiled and gave it to her. Her ass muscles clenched around me, her cheeks plopped and hopped, my hands sank deeper and deeper into that delicious flesh. And then I nutted her, covered her ass cheeks with a fresh layer of cum so thick it put the rest of the men combined to shame. And then I kissed it, that ass loaded with cum. I buried my nose between her cheeks and cleaned it out of her ass with my tongue.

"Ooh," she cooed with a giggle, "Like I said, a true gentleman."