Aah....here we are....I can taste that cold beer already." As we arrived at our favorite restaurant, Gabriel himself opened the door and let some customers out. We waited for them to pass before stepping past the smiling Spaniard.
"¡Bienvenidos, muchachos! Pasar y sentaos. Ya tenéis lista vuestra mesa," Gabriel said as he shook our hands with a flourish. He spoke mostly to Andy, knowing my knowledge of Spanish was nothing more than the "high school special". I knew enough to fit it into the context of the whole situation that he was basically giving us the usual welcome. Andy and he had a rapid exchange mixed with laughter as the genial host ushered us over to our usual booth in the back corner. We liked the spot as it gave us a full view of the whole restaurant, and yet gave us sufficient privacy, away from any potential eavesdroppers. The other thing we liked about this booth was that if either of them were working, it usually was in the section handled by one of Gabriel's two daughters, Marta or Silvia. As I mentioned earlier, Gabriel had a habit of hiring busty buxom girls to be his waitresses; and his own daughters were no exception.
Tonight the place was already pretty busy and I could see Gabriel had a full complement of about seven or eight girls working. They were each dressed in the same type of uniform; seemingly standard amongst the waitress tribe for the last half century of so. It consisted of a kind of a mustard-colored dress that ended a few inches above the knee, with a few buttons up the front of the bodice and a typical small-lapelled collar. This was covered with a little white frilly waitress' apron tied at the small of their back. The whole look was kind of retro-charming, but what Andy and I loved about it most of all was that when Gabriel issued them their uniform, he must have purposely given them each a uniform at least one size smaller than they needed. With them being so tight, most of the girls ended up leaving an extra button undone at the front; probably just so they could breathe in the restricting garment. But I never saw any of them complaining; I'm sure the size of their tips was directly related to the size of their tits. Between the girls he hired naturally having big guns, and the tight-fitting uniforms, it was a heavenly display of tightly encased breasts and deep cleavage every which way you looked; a perfect appetizer enhancer for tit lovers like Andy and I.
Settling into my side of the booth, I could see that both Marta and Silvia were on duty. Ever since we'd been coming here, Andy had taken a liking to the quieter, more demure one, Silvia, while I had always been enchanted by the bold and gregarious Marta. The two sisters were absolutely gorgeous and dizzyingly sexy, each in their own separate way. Both girls had dark hair, Silvia's being cut quite short while Marta's came to her shoulders. They both had beautiful smooth olive–toned skin, indicative of their Spanish heritage. Their similar almond-shaped eyes were beautiful. Marta's were a piercing dark brown and when you looked directly into them, it was like she could see right into your very soul. Silvia's brilliant hazel-colored eyes seemed to glitter breathtakingly in certain types of light, a fact that Andy never tired of pointing out. Marta was a couple of years older; I remember her telling us once a short time ago that she was 23. She was a little taller than her younger sister, probably around 5'-7", but both had similar physical attributes. Yeah, they both had big full breasts which seemed to cover the full breadth of the chests and nice curvy round behinds that had those waitress dresses of theirs swinging beautifully when they hurried about the restaurant. With the usual extra button undone on their uniforms, there was no shortage of swelling tit-flesh visible whenever they were around.
Our table must have been in Marta's section tonight because when she finished up at an adjacent table, she grabbed two menus and walked over to us, those wide hips of hers swaying provocatively as she moved gracefully towards us. Andy noticed her approaching at the same time as I did and motioned towards her as she spoke, "Hola, Marta. Ven y charla con nosotros. ¡Cuanto tiempo! ¿Cómo te va?"
She continued towards us, only now she was shaking her head and rolling her eyes. "Andy, why do you do that?" she asked as she slid a menu in front of each of us.
"What?" Andy replied, an unknowing look on his face.
Marta stood at the side of our table, her hands perched defiantly on those wide flaring hips of hers. I looked up at her pretty face and could see a playful glint in her eye as she started to scold Andy. "Showing off like that. You know how bad Connor's Spanish is. You should be ashamed of yourself." As she spoke to Andy, she nodded towards me as if I were a stupid child being talked about by his parents.
"What? I.....I....." Andy stammered, holding up his hands innocently. I somehow felt obliged to try and come to his rescue.
"Hey, jovencita," I said with an air of indignation, "my Spanish isn't as bad as you think."
"Is that so?" Marta replied as she turned towards me and crossed her arms beneath that massive front porch of hers; her dazzling eyes sparkling darkly as a delightful smile played at the corners of her wide sensuous mouth. "I'm still not convinced. Care to make a little wager on it?" Hmmmm, I guess calling her 'young lady' in Spanish hadn't done the trick.
"No problem," I said with a dismissive wave of my hand. "What did you have in mind?"
"Well," she said as she tilted her head teasingly and slowly rocked from side to side. "How about if I give you a sentence in Spanish, and you have to translate it? If you get it wrong, I win. If you get it right, you win."
"And what would each of us win?" I asked, more than willing to play this little game with this hot Hispanic girl; provided I wasn't about to lose the keys to my car or house.
"If I win," she said slowly as she looked from me to Andy and then back again, her dark eyes alive with a teasing intensity now, "If I win, you have to take me take me out for dinner next week anywhere I want."
Well, this certainly seemed to be looking more and more like a win-win situation for me. "Hmmm, I don't know about that." I really put on an air of uncertainty into my voice now. "And if I win?"
"If you win," she said slowly as she leaned forwards on the edge of our table, the upper swells of her tremendous jugs seeming about to pour out of the top of her uniform. "If you win, well, if you can translate what I'm going to say to you, that'll be your answer." She slowly shifted her upper body from side to side, and my eyes were drawn to her straining chest, the taut uniform top fighting tenaciously to contain that huge rack of hers. Jesus, what a fucking set she had. Not giving a damn now whether I could translate a single word or not, I forced my eyes back up to those dark mysterious orbs of hers.
"Alright then," I replied with a confident nod of my head. "Let's hear what you've got."
"Okay, here it is, and I'll say it slowly for you so you have no excuses: 'Si adivinas mi talla de sujetador, entonces podrás ver lo que esconde.' Now, what did I say?" with her pronouncement made, she stood back and put her hands back on her hips. Andy burst out laughing and then clamped his hand over his mouth as he looked around to see if anyone had noticed his sudden outburst.
"Ummm, well," I started, totally flummoxed as I had no fucking clue what she'd said at all. I think the first part of what she said might have been 'If you', but beyond that, I was totally lost. Andy continued snickering as I struggled to come up with something reasonable.
"Give up?" she asked playfully as she proceeded to tap her foot and examine her fingernails in the classic "I'm waiting" pose.
In this town known for betting of any kind, I could feel my imminent demise on this particular wager rapidly approaching as the Jeopardy countdown ticker seemed to be playing in my head. "Okay, here's what I think you said," I finally responded. Andy stopped laughing and lowered his hand to the table while Marta once again leaned forwards, both of them eagerly awaiting my answer. "You said, 'If you really wanted to go out with me, all you had to do was ask.' That's it, right?"
A winsome smile appeared on Marta's face and I knew that even if I didn't have the translation correct, in a way, I had said the right thing. She paused for a couple of seconds before answering, a broad warm smile spreading over her face as she did. "Sorry buster, close, but no cigar, as they say. Yes, I've got the perfect restaurant in mind that you can take me to. Let's say next week sometime?"
"Wait a second," I said, raising my hands in an exaggerated gesture of despair. "If that wasn't it, you have to tell me what you really said."
"I'll leave that to your good Spanish friend Speedy Gonzalez here to tell you," she replied as she nodded in Andy's direction. "But in the meantime, since your attempted answer was so sweet, I'll get you guys a couple of beers on the house." She gave me a sly little wink before she left and headed toward the bar area, that sumptuous rear of hers swaying deliciously as she walked.
"So what did she say?" I asked Andy urgently.
"Oh man," he replied, a huge shit-eating grin on his face. "That was perfect. It was so good, I don't know if I should tell you or just sit here and watch you suffer."
"C'mon man, really now, what did she say?"
"If I tell you, you owe me, right?"
