Job of a waitress – 1

Moving to a new community is always difficult, especially when you’re alone, with no friends or relatives to turn to. The advantage though is that you can be anyone you want.

My name is Mithu and I recently graduated from a Calcutta University, where my family has lived since coming to the India from Bangladesh. I was only two years old when we came here and have no recollection of Bangladesh at all. I was very settled in Kolkata, a good college, swimming competitively on the college team, an excellent job as a waiter at an upscale restaurant, girls, you name it. Things were about to change though, as I decided to do post graduate work at a specialized tech collage in Bangalore. It would be a two year program, which would launch my career in electronic design. I had not carefully considered the change in atmosphere from the big city to a small hick town off the interstate.

The college was stately and old with character. It had a pool which I would make use of as I would swim every day. Classes were to begin in ten days and I had flown in to get an apartment, get a few things, and find a job. Everything worked out except the job. In Kolkata there were plenty of good jobs for students. Working as a waiter in a restaurant paid for four years of my college.

But there were no such places here. There were only a couple of fast food joints, a small cafe, and a drug store in this town. Then I heard about the Fifth Wheel. It was a roadhouse at the exit ramp off the expressway.It had a small motel next door and was a haven for truckers passing through. The clerk at student services said the waitresses there did very well, but since they only hired women I was out of luck.

I decided to check the place out. Maybe they had work for men as well? It was early and the place was empty, but what a barn. It was huge. The kitchen was a giant BBQ, for steaks and ribs, the only menu items. There was stage for bands and a big dance floor. A couple of waitresses were getting ready for the late shift, and I couldn’t help but notice how beautiful they were. They were all tall, leggy, with great bodies and long gorgeous hair. The uniforms helped too. They wore black silk western shirts like Johnny Cash, a black leather mini skirt, black stockings, high heeled boots and a western scarf, like sexy outlaws. I bet they hauled in great tips.

One of the waitresses asked me if needed anything, so I inquired about the job opening they advertised. She said there were no openings in the kitchen, or for bus boys, but the boss has been looking for a new girl to serve tables for a while. That left me out. She said most girls were either intimidated about their looks, didn’t like the uniform, or were too squeamish of the boss.

She did mention that he was a pig and that any self respecting girl would never work for him. She got back to work when he entered the room. He was about forty, tough looking, with a couple of scars on his face, gray hair in a brush cut, smoked a cigar, but wore an expensive looking suit without a tie. I left feeling vanquished.

Back in Kolkata I gathered the last of my things.  I had done some acting in high college. I stood in front of a mirror and did a quick assessment. I was very slim, one hundred twenty five pounds, from running and long distance swimming, yet my legs looked strong. I have a fair complexion, no hair on my chest, a small nose, but full lips, green eyes, and my blond hair I keep short for swimming. I tried to imagine myself as a woman. To think of it I was never the brutish masculine type at all.

Later that night when everyone was asleep, I put on my sisters dress, pantyhose and bra. I stuffed the bra, and donned an old wig off my moms. I applied makeup from sister’s kit in the bathroom. Once more I stood before
the mirror and I liked what I saw. It needed work but it could be done. The next morning I did some shopping downtown in the gay district.

I bought some special items like panties which conceal the obvious, custom high heels, and a magnificent redhead wig. The wig actually gets glued to the skin to stay in place and look more realistic. I also picked out a sexy dress for the interview. One stop at a lingerie store and another at the drug store for makeup and I was set.

I needed an extra suitcase to fly back to Bangalore. The two big problems I would face now were my Adams apple and my voice. Although mine doesn’t stand out that much, any Adams apples show a little. Since the waitresses wore western scarves around their necks, mine would be hidden, so I decided to where one for the interview too. My voice is far from deep, but trying to squeak up an octave all the time would be real tough. That’s when Mrs. Doubtfire (TV serial character) reminded me about the accent. The accent threw everyone. Since I was well practiced mocking my mother all my life, I was able to do a pretty mean impression of a Bangladeshi woman. I figured since my birth certificate states I was born in Bangladesh that it would be believable. My name is gender neutral so I wouldn’t need to fake one. It seemed to be working out.

Once in Bangalore, I finished moving into my new apartment, bought a bike, and went to check the Fifth Wheel. The job was still available and college was five days away. I immediately practiced walking about the apartment in the high heels. They were tough getting used to. I did my makeup several times for practice. With false eyelashes, mascara, lipstick, the works, it took over an hour to put on.

Finally the day of reckoning came. I was nervous but remembered to be confident like my old drama teacher had taught. I used to shave my body hair for swim meets so this was not new to me. I clean shaved my armpits, legs,
even my crotch, for full effect. Then I carefully shaved my face very close taking my sideburns away too. I covered myself with body lotion, powder, and a hit of perfume. I applied my false fingernails, my wig and did my makeup. I put on a black pushup bra over my foam tits which I had placed silicon inserts in. They gave me a nice 36C bust.

I also wore a small corset, not that I needed to be thinner but it gave my hips a feminine flair. The black panties forced my dick up in the crotch so no bulges would show. I then rolled on black, seemed stockings attaching them to my garters on the corset. I picked out the black and white gingham two piece dresses.

I wore a white blouse under the tight waistcoat and pulled up the skin tight, mid thigh skirt. I put my high heels and a scarf on and viola, instant babe. I did look great, no shit! My ass looked exceptionally round and squeezable with the help of the corset and high heels.

My backdoor goes out to the parking lot, so I snick out to my bike. At the Fifth Wheel I confidently strutted in, turning lots of heads, hopefully for the right reasons. The waitress who greeted me was the same one I spoke with the week before. She showed no signs of recognizing me or of catching my act. When I told her that I was here for the job she said she loved my accent.

She said the boss was going to like me but warned me that he was a letch. She wished me good luck and went to set it up with the boss. His office was on the second floor overlooking the lounge. He opened the door and looked down at me. He stared at me expressionless for a couple of minutes. I posed femininely, crossing my legs giving him a good look at my long legs. Finally, he waved me up, and I demurely went up to his office.

His office was full of hunting trophies and fish on the walls and stunk of cigar smoke. He had me sit on a leather sofa. I handed him my resume and references, which he perused. “What’s your name sweetheart?” he growled.

“It’s Mithu, sir,” I gave back trying best to sound like my mother.

“I’m Jagmohan, not sir, and what are you? Bangladeshi?” he shot back.

“Yes, from Dacca originally, came to Kolkata for a university,” I replied confidently.

“And you end up in this shit hole looking for a table job, lot a good that college is. I never finished high college, and look at me.” His manners were deplorable. Satisfied with the quick glance of my credentials he said, “All right,” signaling with his finger to do a twirl. I felt awkward but kept in mind what he was looking for. I did as he asked.

“Nice, good body, great ass, and I love your red hair.Don’t got a redhead on staff,” was his approval. “Bet the customers go for that fancy accent of yours too,” he continued. Confidently I gave another voluntary turn but this time he grabbed my ass on the way by. He chuckled and smiled. For a split second I had to decide to react or not, it was momentary shock. I just gave him a coy smile to keep him happy. He really was a letch. The real shock however came next. He had bought my act completely, but said,” I like you Mithu, a whole lot, so how bad do you want this job?”

I wasn’t sure what he asking and said, “I’m sorry, I don’t follow.”

He continued,” I mean what you are willing to do to get the job?”

I didn’t like the sounds of that but was in too deep now. “Anything, of course,” I replied.

With that he stepped closer to the couch, still puffing on a cigar saying,” Good, let’s see what you can do with this,” unzipping his fly and whipping out his penis.

I thought again about bailing, but I had gone too far to back out and thought, “How bad can it be?” I had blowjobs from several girls and none of them seemed to mind. Besides, it’s not gay if I am a woman, which I was at the time. And that big dick stared right at me with its one eye. I mesmerized at it. It was about seven inches long, but really fat, with angry looking veins bulging from its skin. A drop of pre cum glistened on the monstrous purple head. It was already hard.

I felt complimented by that and slowly leaned forward to kiss my new friend. He sighed his pleasure as I ran my tongue down the length of his shaft and kissed his bull size balls. I took each one in my mouth and gave it a suck. I then grasped the base of that shaft with my hand as I slowly licked my way up to that head and licked away the fluid in the eye of that mighty knob. Although the same length, it was easily twice as thick as mine.I put that thought away as right then I was a woman sucking a man’s cock. I opened wide and took it into my mouth until it touched the back of my throat. I sucked hard on it and pumped the base at the same time. “You’re a great cocksucker Mithu, you must have been doing this for a long time.” Little did he know that I was a rookie. With my spare hand I massaged his balls and continued sucking him like that for ten minutes. I looked up at him and saw him looking at me.

I maintained eye contact as I pushed the head of his cock passed the back of my throat until I had completely engulfed him. He moaned, closed his eyes, held on to the back of my head and pumped a gusher of warm creamy jizz down my throat. I nearly gagged, but he eased off enough to let me swallow. He came for about a minute and I drank it all down. For a moment I was proud of my accomplishments as a woman.

I licked Jagmohan’s shrinking dick clean, then he put it away. He told me to pick out a uniform and that I should start the next night at eight. He poured two shots of bourbon from his private stock and handed me one, which I pounded back. He told me that I would get a thousand bucks bonus for that and if I came by his office the day before payday to repeat the performance that I would see yet another bonus on my check.

Neatly, I wiped my chin and got up to leave. I could feel his gaze still burning into my ass. Just before stepping out, he remarked,” That is one sweet ass! If your ever looking fer someone to fuck it, or yer pussy,let me know.”

What! I simply retorted playfully, “Sorry Sir, I’m not that kind of girl.” He was howling hysterically as I left.

To be continued ………..