serinymph
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ใ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐: ๐พ๐๐ผ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ใ|ใ20 ๐๐๐, 2:15 ๐๐๐ ๐ผ๐๐/๐พ๐ผ๐๐๐๐..
🕑 Added 2020-10-07 02:59:55 +0000 UTC ใ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐: ๐พ๐๐ผ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ใ|ใ20 ๐๐๐, 2:15 ๐๐๐ ๐ผ๐๐/๐พ๐ผ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ฟใ ใ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ผ๐๐๐๐๐, ๐พ๐ผ๐๐๐๐๐๐, ๐๐๐๐ฟ๐ ๐ฝ๐๐๐ฝ๐, ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐ฟ๐๐๐๐ผ๐ใ - The brunette server, standing all of five feet tall, raises both hands to her mouth to cover it in shock and lets out a muffled curse under her breath. "I am ๐ด๐ฐ unbelievably sorry, sir, please let me help you with that!", she stammers out, instantly dropping to her hands and knees to towel off your shoes. You raise an eyebrow at how quickly she seems to assume such a position, almost like it's second nature to her, as the frantic owl girl hurriedly wipes droplets of liquor off the expensive leather surface of your work shoes. Suddenly, her thick round rim glasses fall off her face and clatter to the floor to join the bits of glass. She turns an even brighter shade of red as she feels around the hazard filled ground to locate them, now sightless in addition to being flustered. You sigh, getting the feeling that this girl may be the reason for a two star rating. You kneel to the floor, pick up her glasses, and unenthusiastically hand them back to her. "T-thank you so much, sir!", she squeaks, clutching her hands together at her chest in something that almost looks like the beginnings of a prayer. ๐๐ข๐ฏ๐จ ๐ฐ๐ฏ ๐ข ๐ด๐ฆ๐ค๐ฐ๐ฏ๐ฅ. You look past her hands to gaze upon her breasts, trying to be subtle, and notice that sheโs accidentally pushing them together. She's breathing heavily, her chest raising and falling quickly in an attempt to get a grip on her elevated heart rate. There's a thin sheen of sweat on the freckled milky pale surface, and your eyes follow the curvature right down into her well endowed cleavage. Her paper thin white shirt struggles to contain them, completely stretched to the limits of its fiber, revealing an equally skimpy bra underneath its translucent surface. To put it simply, you don't know much about bra sizes but she must definitely be up there. The waitress clears her throat, interrupting your horny thoughts. "Would you prefer table or bar seating?", she asks in a breathy voice, clearly still recovering from the awkward situation. You swallow roughly trying to get a grip on your running imagination and ask for a table. The owl girl smiles at you and nods in affirmation, turning tail to lead you to a booth in the corner of the dive bar. As she walks you to the edge of the restaurant, you take advantage of the fact that she's looking the other way and study her further. The white tank top grips her body in all the right places, wrapping around a slender waist. Your eyes trace down further and you almost cough. Her white shirt is tucked into the orange volleyball shorts you noticed earlier, and theyโre completely sandwiched between her ass cheeks, looking more like bathing suit bottoms than anything that would even be remotely socially acceptable to wear outside. With each step the orange fabric gets swallowed further and you can feel yourself beginning to sweat, praying the booth sheโs taking you to is far enough away to see the material get eclipsed by flesh completely. ๐๐ฐ๐ญ๐บ ๐ง๐ถ๐ค๐ฌ. The waitress turns around suddenly and lets out an excellent grin, retrieving a menu and handing it to you. "I'm Moka and I'll be your server today!" she says in a well rehearsed spiel, now fully composed again. โDo you need some time before youโre ready to order or can I help you out now?โ, she inquires gently. You grimace involuntarily at the graphic design that looks to be from the early 2000โs, covered in stock photos of flames and female silhouettes. Most of the text is worn off except for โ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐' ๐ฝ๐๐๐โ. ๐๐ฆ๐ญ๐ญ ๐ช๐ตโ๐ด ๐ฆ๐ช๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ณ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ข๐ต ๐ฐ๐ณ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆโฆ ๐ถ๐ฉ๐ฉ๐ฉโฆ You squint, and try to make out any other words, but fail. Moka smiles sheepishly, obviously aware of the situation. โRight! Uh, thatโs kindaโฆ all we carryโฆโ, she trails off shyly, pushing her pointer fingers together and twirling them around. โSo Iโll put in one order for you?โ, she beams, looking like sheโs bracing herself to be yelled at. You notice Mokaโs hands shaking lightly as she cradles a pen and paper between long black painted nails. ๐๐ฐ๐ฐ๐ณ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ, ๐ด๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ฎ๐ถ๐ด๐ต ๐จ๐ฆ๐ต ๐ข ๐ญ๐ฐ๐ต ๐ฐ๐ง ๐ข๐ด๐ด๐ฉ๐ฐ๐ญ๐ฆ๐ด ๐ช๐ง ๐ด๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ญ๐ฐ๐ฐ๐ฌ๐ด ๐ต๐ฉ๐ข๐ต ๐ฆ๐ข๐จ๐ฆ๐ณ ๐ต๐ฐ ๐ฑ๐ญ๐ฆ๐ข๐ด๐ฆ. ๐๐ถ๐ต ๐ฎ๐ข๐บ๐ฃ๐ฆ ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ ๐ค๐ฐ๐ถ๐ญ๐ฅ ๐ฉ๐ข๐ท๐ฆ ๐ง๐ถ๐ฏ ๐ธ๐ช๐ต๐ฉ ๐ช๐ต. You nod and her smile looks a bit more confident and natural, relief washing over her face. โWonderful!โ, she exclaims, taking the cap of the pen off with her mouth and cushioning it between her full and gloss covered lips. She writes your order down but you can only notice how perfectly her mouth is wrapped around the object, sucking on it absentmindedly as she focuses on getting her penmanship legible. She goes to cap the pen again, curling her tongue around the phallic object to hold it in place. โPerfect, let me just send this to the kitchen and youโll be all set!โ, she says, smiling dazzlingly again with the pen still in her mouth. Moka turns to walk away and you remember the thin orange fabric that was riding up her ass. You turn, subtly checking for a status update, only to see her cheeks pressed together, no fabric visible between them anymore. You can see the thin outline of lips from the bottom of her shorts as she sways her childbearing hips, walking up to the bar to give them your order. You release a breath youโve been subconsciously holding this whole time. ๐๐ช๐ฎ๐ฆ ๐ต๐ฐ ๐ฎ๐ข๐ฌ๐ฆ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ฃ๐ฆ๐ด๐ต ๐ฐ๐ง ๐ต๐ฉ๐ช๐ด ๐ด๐ช๐ต๐ถ๐ข๐ต๐ช๐ฐ๐ฏ. - Well, what'd you think? Did you like it? It's gonna include a lot of sneaky pics, wet tshirts, and baby oil in upcoming parts. There's a reason she brought you to the booth in the corner... our poor little owl girl is definitely in heat, no wonder she's so clumsy~ I must admit I got a little h*rny writing it ahhhh, especially when watching the ass shaking video I filmed to go with it, I get up close and personal with a "facesitting angle" and you can see the outline of my uh... yeah... So let me know what you think! <3
