Thursday’s at the Diner
I work at the HiWay diner on old Highway 23. It’s out by the airport. The owner is Sal or as we call him, the Old Man. The Old Man is rarely here. He’s got four other diners in town and usually he has to go to those diners to manage problems and put out fires. But here? I manage things when he’s not around. Technically, I’m only a waitress but I’m practically the assistant manager as I’m usually in charge when he’s not here.
But nothing much happens here at the diner. Unless you’re a local, you have no idea that the HiWay diner is even here. It’s usually pretty quiet. I like working here as a waitress. Tips are decent and the staff is nice. Normally, I don’t notice people and customers. I come in, do my job, double-count the drawers at the end of the night, lock the money in the safe, set the alarm and leave.
However, today was Thursday and Thursday is *his* day.
When I first woke up that morning, before my shower, as I laid in bed, I swirled my clit with my fingers, bringing his image into my mind. I closed my eyes and imagined him being on top of me and all that weight and fat, and before I knew it, my whole body shook and I had two amazing orgasms. After my shower – Normally – I just put my long hair into a ponytail or a braid before I leave for work but today, I took extra care: I put some time into doing my hair and makeup this morning. Before I put on my waitress dress, instead of my usual comfy leggings, I put on an old pair of pantyhose. They were snug and shiny and showed off every curve in my thighs. My uniform as it were was a retro-style diner dress, like what Flo wore on Alice. Pink dress, black trim. My diner dress hugs my curves and leaves little to the imagination. Instead of my beige sports bra, I plunged my 40DD’s, into a push-up bra. With that bra, my girls were practically up to my chin.
He came in at his usual time. A big, tall handsome man with blue eyes and brown hair who weighed about 350 pounds. Such a big man. I could watch him walk from the parking lot to the diner all day. That tummy bouncing with every step on the concrete, that big butt of his jiggling from side to side. I could even see his moobs shaking as he walked. God, he was so sexy. He walked in wearing and khakis and a blue button-down shirt. These clothes must have been new because I’d never seen him wear them before. Normally, his usual clothes were tight dress clothes and snug dress pants with puckering in the pockets. He’s gained so much weight since I met him. Waddling slow and steady towards the table, he smiled at me and I signaled I’d be with him in a moment. I needed to watch, to admire, and to dream.
While he pushed his body into the tiny booth. The way his fat conformed to the table and piled just a bit over. I watched as he adjusted himself. Trying hard not to make an issue of it, he took a deep breath and moved his belly in place so you could read the menu I’d eventually place in front of him. I wondered if he knew what I’d been secretly doing. I piled on the extra cheese with his omelet. Always adding an extra egg, extra bacon, even extra buttermilk where I could. Heavy cream for his coffee and always tempting him with delicious fresh, homemade pastries or rich, dense brownies that I knew he would not be able to refuse.
I loved knowing I could bring him the most decadent food and desserts and that he could not resist. I was making him fatter on purpose. For my viewing and fantasizing pleasure. I loved the idea of imagining what it might be like to be held down by his massive body and be ravaged while his soft flesh moved against me. I snapped out of it when you put down the menu and made eye contact with me. I smiled and walked over to your table. I leaned over slightly so you could get a good look at my cleavage.
“Good afternoon,” he said in his smoky voice. I could see he tried to make eye contact but he couldn’t resist.
“Hello,” I said, “I like your new shirt,” I said admiring his nice button-down blue dress shirt. I could tell it was brand-new.
“Thank you!” he said with a chuckle. “I had to get some new shirts. My old 4XLs were getting too small on me!”
I could feel myself getting moist and my face grew hot just hearing him verbalize his gain to me. Quickly, I recovered and said, “Well, it brings out your eyes. Now, what can I get you today?”
“How’s the Under 500 special?” he asked.
I rolled my eyes.
The Under 500 special was an idea from the Old Man to list some low-calorie meals for customers watching their diets. The problem was, the vendor’s products never quite lived up to expectations, not to mention that the sodium content was through the roof for a “healthy alternative.” The quinoa burger tasted awful and I wasn’t about to get stiffed a tip through no fault of my own just because I brought them a meal that I knew was bad. No, thank you.
“Honestly,” I said bending over to whisper (and to show off more of my cleavage) “It’s not that good. But I know the Triple Cheeseburger is amazing. People have been raving about it all day.”
“OK, I’ll get the Triple,” he said, “How about the herb fries?” he asked. I leaned in closer and gently – and subtly – rubbed my pantyhose leg against his pants. I know he could feel the friction between my silky nylons and I saw a trickle of sweat run down his forehead. “I would go with the chili cheese fries,” I suggested.
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