P-Nut

I raised my empty beer bottle and tilted the neck of it toward the waitress as she walked past. “When you get a minute.”

She flashed a smile. “Be right back.”

Tall, lean, and built like one of the many beach volleyball players that frequented California’s coast, she wore her brunette hair in a shoulder-length cut. Her neck was adorned with a choker made of black ribbon, and each of her thumbs were fitted with a bulky silver ring.

Although she was cute and had a magnificent athletic ass, I didn’t bother looking as she walked away. I found gawking at women to be the sure sign of a creep. Exposing them to my intellect, my sense of humor, or my wayward sexual taste seemed to be far more successful for me than anything.

With my boots propped on the chair beside me, I closed my eyes and relaxed in the warmth of the early afternoon sun. Living in southern California had its benefits, most of which had to do with the weather. Personally, living in the seclusion of Oregon, Idaho, or Wyoming would better suit me, but I realized I would never leave my home.

“Here you go.”

I opened my eyes.

Standing before me with my bottle of beer dangling loosely between her thumb and forefinger, she stood just beyond my arm’s reach. I lowered my boots to the concrete floor, turned to the side, and met the gaze of her glistening honey-colored eyes.

“Seems strange,” I said dryly. “Cute as you are, I would have guessed you’d to be taken.”

She tilted her head to the side. “Who says I’m not?”

“I do.”

She cocked her hip. “And why’s that?”

“Because you’re single. Either that, or you’re mentally separated from your partner.”

“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not.”

I took a sip of beer and then motioned to the seat across from me. “Have a seat.”

“I can’t. I’ll get--”

I pushed the chair I’d used as a footstool toward her with the heel of my boot.

She glanced over each shoulder, and then looked at me. “Just for a minute.”

I rested my forearms on my thighs, leaned forward, and locked eyes with her. “You’re an adventurous little bitch. I like that.”

She looked surprised. “Why do you say that?”

“Same reason I said you were single. Because you are.”

“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not.” She brushed her hair behind her ears. “You sure seem to think you know a lot about me.”

“I know people.”

“You think you know people.”

“I know enough about you that I asked you to sit down.”

“You’d probably ask anyone to sit down.”

I chuckled a light laugh and reached for my beer. “Obviously, you don’t read people as well as I do.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I’d rather sit here alone than have anyone join me. You haven’t worked here for more than a few days, but if you had, you’d know I come in here a couple times a week. Ask the other waitresses. If anyone is ever sitting here with me, it’s one of the fellas.”

A content look washed over her. Her eyes fell to my boots for an instant, and then she looked up. “So, why me?”

“We’re sexually compatible, that’s why.”

She let out a laugh and looked away. After regaining her composure, she began to twist her hair with her index finger. “How would you know that?”

“Like I said, I know people.”

“And you think you know my sexual preferences or whatever?”

“Pretty sure, yeah.”

“Bullshit.”

I shrugged. “Okay.”

It seemed she was going to stand and walk away, but her curiosity eventually got the best of her.

She flipped her hair over her shoulder. “What are they?”

“Rather not say.”

“You can’t say something like that and then say, rather not say when someone asks you to explain.”

“Look, I asked you to sit down. You’re the one that prompted all the questions. And, you and your questions led us to this. In short, Rachel, you brought this session of dialogue on yourself.” I took a drink of my beer. “It wasn’t my intention to sit here and talk about sex.”

The statement was damned close to a lie. I did want to talk about sex. Furthermore, she wasn’t the one who started the discussion about sexual preferences, but I wanted her to think she was. The conversation had happened so fast that I was sure she wasn’t going to challenge me on the matter.

She looked around the sparsely occupied patio. Convinced she wasn’t depriving her handful of customers of anything, she looked at me.

Her mouth curled into a guilty grin. “You don’t talk like a biker.”

“I’m about as much a typical of a biker as you are a typical woman.”

“Tell me what you think.” She blinked a few times. “Please.”

“I know you’d rather have a finger in your ass than a hand around your neck.”

Her eyebrows raised. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” I said. “And, you can lose the innocent act. You’re cute as fuck, but you’re a horrible actress.”

She glanced over her shoulder and then looked at me. “I don’t even know what that means. I’d rather have a finger in--” She shook her head. “You’re wrong.”

“Sexually, you’re adventurous. Or, at least you think you are. The thought of a guy choking you intrigues you, but not enough to let him do it. But, if you’re getting it from behind and he pokes a finger in your ass, you light up like a Christmas tree.”

She crossed her legs. “I have no idea where you come up with this stuff.”

I curled my index finger toward my palm. “Come here, Rachel.”

“How do you…how do you know my… my name?” she stammered.

In a non-threatening gesture, I lifted my hand, hooked my finger between her choker and her neck, and pulled her close to me.

She didn’t resist one bit.

I moved my mouth to her ear. “I’m going to finish this beer and leave,” I whispered, exhaling into her ear as I spoke. “You work the same shift every day?”

“Uh huh.”

“What time do you get off?”

After a few seconds of silence, she squeaked out here response. “Eight.”

“One of these days, I’m going to come in here at closing time, and I’m going to teach you a few things about being sexually adventurous.”

I released her choker.

She slumped into her chair as if she’d just finished running a 10k. With her eyes fixed on mine, she blinked a few times and then swallowed heavily. “Okay.”

I raised my beer, downed it in one gulp, and tossed $20 on the table. Stuffing her full of nine inches of biker cock wouldn’t satisfy me, but it would break up the day to day monotony of my life. Teaching her a few things about what her sexual desires were, however, would undoubtedly entertain the absolute fuck out of me for much more than one night.

I stood, reached toward her uniform, and tapped the tip of my finger against her nametag. “If you don’t want people to know your name, don’t wear a nametag.”

Then, I turned and walked away.