Ding. The bell rings. From beneath her white cap the dark eyes tinkled, The golden skin shone, Glistening sweat on a raised eyebrow smirk The steaming stinking ass masterpiece leaning her hips against the hot metal table. Over the piping hot plates of Wild mushroom ravioli with creamy chicken, Sage butter wine bowls; Over pink sauce with linguini, five feet of overworked frustrations, Vanessa waited impatiently .

“Traaaaaacy!”

The restaurant was vibrating with the hum and jumps of a Friday night.

Ding.

Vanessa’s tan and muscular body leaned on the table, her elbow resting, one nail in her mouth, the other hand just above the bump of ass that rose out from beneath her white cooks apron.

“TraaaaacY!?”

Her silky voice crescendoing to a climax of question and command.

“Wh