If They Could See Me Now

The interview was conducted by Moira, who was one of the waitresses. Moira said, "Won't ask you to pretend to be Welsh but can you do a BBC accent? Will save you the jokes about Brummies stealing our water."

Rebecca showed that she could, and the woman had nodded. "Fine. Bronwen told me that you have a choice of outfits. For tonight's shift wear the trousers and the cleavage with frills. You will be doing the private rooms. These are using for celebrations, hen nights, stag nights and such like. As you can imagine the guests occasionally take liberties and the trick is to keep things under control without making a scene. Trousers help. The tips are good although the normal jokes quickly become annoying. Most of the local girls filling in this summer don't like doing them as they are known around here and allowing the guests too much freedom will get them talked about in town and seen as an easy lay."

Rebecca had found the first shift she had fine. The hen night was merely raucous and the group of middle-aged men from the bowls club had only surreptitiously felt her bum or squeezed the inside of her thigh. She had found no reason to object to them as they did not try to push things too far. At the end, she had sat on the knee of the club president and kissed him on the forehead. The tips left had doubled the size of her wages. The deal at the restaurant among the staff was that tips from the private rooms were shared among the waitresses who served there and not with the staff who only worked downstairs.

At the end Moira had discussed things with her boss Dai and she was asked to help out with the private rooms for the rest of the holiday. Apparently one of the girls who normally worked there was on holiday herself. She accepted. After all the money was goodish and in some ways she had quite enjoyed running the balance between flirting and keeping things under control. Besides which Marion was enjoying her summer fling and did not need her company in the evening.

The next few evenings had varied. She adopted some tricks which Moira had suggested and invented a few of her own. She had moved her bag of clothes to the hotel/restaurant and found that provided she was careful, changing outfits as the meal progressed increased the size of the tips. Moira had been helpful in judging how far she should go with each group although the main thing was only being risqué when the coffee and after dinner drinks were being drunk.

She had declined offers to join the guests in their rooms after dinner if she knew they were staying additional nights. She had invented a fictitious jealous boyfriend or puritan father to avoid giving offence.

She had worn the sluttier outfit a couple of times. Once was for an eightieth birthday family celebration where she had sat on the birthday boy's lap, kissed him on the forehead, allowed him a close up look at her cleavage, and even let him put his hand up her skirt for a couple of seconds before teasing him as being a naughty boy. He and the family had loved it and the tip had reflected that. Photographs had been taken, but she had not objected. One of the Grandsons had tried to push her into a broom closet, but she had sold him a dummy and escaped his attentions.

She had also worn it on the last Saturday night of the holiday for what she thought would be her final night at the hotel for a hen party who had apparently asked for their waitress to enter into the spirit of the event.

At this point in the story, she had turned to Bill and said, "I think it will work best if I start telling the story from Alison's point of view. I spoke to her on the Monday morning, so I think it is broadly accurate."

"Works for me so long as you do not miss anything you did."

She laughed at him. "OK."

/-------------------------/

Alison was attending a hen party on a Saturday night in early August. She had been invited because she was the wife of one of the groom's best friends and because she had actually welcomed the bride into the group of friends and acquaintances when she had first started going out with the bridegroom.

The bride had been to an all-girls boarding school and most of the guests had been at school with her. They were early twenties while Alison was twenty-nine. The chief bridesmaid, Claire, was the bride's sister and was Alison's age. Halfway through the evening Claire had said she might as well have gone the whole hog and called herself the matron of honour, she felt so much older than the other hens.

Anyway, the night had been raucous. Too much had been drunk too quickly. Two waitresses had been serving them and there had been a barman serving them cocktails early on.

By the end of the main course which had been a well done rump steak Claire had moved next to Alison. "Allie, I may have made a mistake with the organisation."

"How so? They all seem to be enjoying themselves."

"Just watch."

The youngest waitress had started off wearing trousers and buttoned up blouse for the prawn cocktail and then moved to silver service standard wear for the steak, albeit perhaps with one button more than normal undone. The bride had dropped a 50p coin down the blouse into the neckline and five others had done the same. The girl who looked around eighteen or nineteen had looked surprised but then taken it in good part. The bride was drinking quite quickly and kept asking the girl who apparently was called Terry for a refill.

Alison watched more closely and realised that the bride was stroking the inside of the waitress's legs.

"She does not seem to mind."

"You'll see why I am worrying when the black forest gateaux arrives."

Both waitresses had changed their outfits. The younger one was clearly wearing stockings and suspenders under a very short black skirt and a blouse which was virtually see through. The outfit was greeted by wolf whistles from the girls who had dropped the 50p pieces down the last blouse and the bride had an enormous smile spreading across her face.

Claire caught the eye of the other waitress, "Moira, you may want to relieve your friend."

Moira who seemed to be about their age shook her head. "Terry will be OK. If she needs me to take over she'll let me know."

Alison had heard about men doing this in certain types of clubs, but some of the hens had decided to put £1 notes in the young waitress's garter belt or the tops of her stocking as she served them their dessert.

Claire again spoke to Moira, "Better safe than sorry. Could you swap a man for her in the disco bar? I know my sister too well."

Moira had looked and said, "No problem."

Claire had whispered back, "I hope not anyway."

Coffees had been delivered without much problem. More drinks had then been ordered. One of the hens had tried to tell a joke, "I have three good male friends, One I call Guinness because he's tall, dark and smooth, one I call whisky because he leaves a burning feeling at the back of my throat, and I call the other Cointreau."

The other hens shouted "Why?"

"Because he's a real fancy liqueur."

Some of the hens needed an explanation of the joke.

The bride who was getting increasingly drunk had demanded one of her friends give her a fiver and asked the waitress to top up her drink. As the waitress leant over it was quite clear from the look on her face that the exploratory hand had pushed things too far.

Claire was immediately out of her seat at the end of the table and organising the hens for the trip to the disco in the basement of the hotel which would go on until two in the morning.

Alison had decided not to join the others in the disco. First, she was older than most of them. Second, she was married and so snogging a stranger in front of people who knew her slightly would not be a good idea. Third, her husband Hubert was meant to be joining her tomorrow lunchtime for a three day stay and fourth, she was worried that she would be tempted to prove that she could still pull a man.

She instead sat in the bar with a book. She had recently discovered Jilly Cooper and was reading through her backlist. She then spotted the young waitress behind the bar. She had reverted to the normal skirt and buttoned up blouse.

She had engaged the girl in discussion. "Sorry about the bride.. She had had a bit too much to drink. Hope it wasn't too embarrassing for you"

The girl had laughed, "No harm done. Until that last lunge I was happy enough to play along -- after all what harm is there in having one's legs stroked and some money put in my stockings. Even with the last lunge, her aim was off, and I did get the fiver."

Alison had laughed. "Does that often happen?"

"No idea. I am on holiday myself and am just earning a bit of cash. My final shift is lunch tomorrow. First time I have had women groping me and so I'll put it down to being part of life's rich pageant."

She paused, "I usually stop at the above the knee dress and a few undone buttons on the blouse for men."

Alison said, "Will you help me drink a bottle of wine if I buy it? I want to talk to someone amusing and I have no desire to join the youngsters in the disco."

The girl had looked around the bar. Only a handful of older men who were nursing their drinks were there. "Fine by me. The management won't mind provided the drink is paid for and I serve the customers."

The girl asked if the bride was really certain about the marriage. Alison thought the girl might have a point and explained that the bridegroom Ronald had also never been a ladies' man and was trying to be made a partner at his law firm. The girl had nodded at that.

Alison found that she needed to let off steam and was encouraged by the girl's matter of factness. Hubert had been inattentive to her for the last year or so. He would get home late from the office having clearly stopped off at the pub. There was no point buying mints to hide your breath if your clothes reeked of cigarette smoke. Hubert would then play rugby with his mates on Saturday afternoon and would get upset if she came to watch or join him at the club after the match. On Sundays he would sleep in and read the Sunday Times and Sunday Express in the morning while she cooked the Sunday roast for him and whichever of the married couples they knew had been invited around.

She could not remember when they had last anything other than perfunctory sex on the second and fourth Tuesdays of the month. Originally she had liked the fact that he had been more of a gentleman than her other admirers, but it now came over as being more like a lack of interest in sex and her.

Alison was trying to correct this and explained to the young woman that she had insisted to Hubert that they have some time away together by themselves. He had agreed that after he had recovered from the stag do in Cardiff tonight he would catch a train to Saundersfoot, changing at Carmarthen and join her for three nights before they returned to Bristol on Wednesday. Alison had brought the car with her on the basis that Hubert would probably still not be safe to drive by tomorrow lunch time.

Anyway, she had prepared for the weekend. She had bought a new backless dress, a new negligee and had a kinky schoolgirl outfit.

The girl, Terry, had laughed and said that she would be sorry to miss her wearing the last. They had just finished the bottle when a very trim man in his mid-thirties appeared from the disco downstairs and headed for the bar.

"Will you two ladies join me in a nightcap? I have just glimpsed hell downstairs. I am too old to take on a hen party particularly when the most attractive ones seem more interested in each other."

Alison had laughed at this. She had then checked the time and said, "Terry, if you help us out I am sure that we can help this man recover from his shock."

The man had said, "My name is David." He looked at the wine on offer and said, "How about a bottle of fizz? Charge it to Annex room 3." He showed Terry his key with the number attached.

By now most of the other customers had gone to bed and Terry had decided that Alison needed the flirtation more than she did. The waitress excused herself and went to clear away the empties and clean the tables after accepting a glass of the fizz.

Alison and David sat down on a sofa and talked to each other. David was from London and was meeting friends tomorrow morning. He had come up this evening to make some arrangements for tomorrow and had decided that he was not yet ready to sleep.

He gently flirted with Alison, and she enjoyed flirting back. It was fun to find that someone was bothered to make the effort with her. Tonight she and Claire had been treated almost as if they were parents.

When he looked her in the eyes and commented on their colour she looked him back and she even recalled the little tricks she had used before her marriage to encourage nervous young men. A slightly open mouth, some licking of her lips and not retreating when he inched closer to her. When he made a joke she laughed and used it as an excuse to get closer. By the end of the fizz his arm was behind her, and his hand was gently touching her waist. She had eventually and reluctantly showed him her wedding ring when his hand touched her knee and stayed there.

He had raised an eyebrow and she had explained that her husband was arriving tomorrow and that she had bought some new garments for him to enjoy. She described them and why she had arranged the time away. He had indicated that Hubert was an incredibly lucky man and that he, David, envied him. She checked his hand and there was no wedding ring on it.

When they had finished the bottle, the bar area was empty (apart from Terry), and the disco still had at least another hour and a half to go. Besides which the sofa they were on was in an alcove which could not be seen from the main corridor. She had accepted his offer of a night cap of a small glass of white wine, and he had a brandy.

While he was at the bar she had undone another button on her dress. She thought he deserved at least a good view of her breasts for keeping her amused.

The gentle flirtation continued. She was feeling better about herself and realised that she had missed the fun of getting to know new people. In the three years they had been married, she had not made a single new friend apart from girlfriends of Hubert's colleagues and workmates.

Once she had finished the wine, she had stood up to go. She was slightly drunk, so she had said that for being so gallant he deserved a good night kiss. He had accepted the offer.

It had started off as a peck, but she had then realised she wanted more. She opened her mouth and they locked tongues. One hand of hers ran through his hair and tried to ensure that his tongue could not escape. The other started out holding his back but then untucked his shirt and touched his back. He had responded enthusiastically but had not the mistake of pushing things too quickly. It had been enjoyable rather than threatening when she realised that his body was showing his enjoyment at the snog.

She eventually broke the kiss but did not let go off him. His hands were on her arse pulling her hips towards him. One of her hands was down the back of his trousers. He said, "Perhaps another one for the road." She had nodded.

They both sat down again, and he signalled to Terry to bring another round. Alison was slightly flustered and started to make incoherent noises about not knowing what had come over her. He had put a finger on her lips. "No need to apologise to me or anyone else. You were just practising for your husband. I'm told that marriage can be bad for spontaneity."

She had laughed at that. "I'm not certain Hubert would see it like that."

"Look upon it as being like practising a new recipe for a dinner party or remining yourself about an old favourite. I'm just a friend who you allow to nibble at the dish for constructive criticism. After all, if you normally cook bangers and mash, coq au vin can be a little bit of a challenge."

"My best recipe for that dish requires marinading overnight."

"I am merely warming you up for your husband, so he gets the full benefit tomorrow night. I am generous that way to my fellow man."

Terry arrived with the drinks and David told her to have one for herself and gave a 50p tip.

This gave Alison a chance to think about the conversation and what had just happened. Whether it was the drink talking, Alison felt that there was a little truth in the point he had made. Foreplay and cuddling did improve sex and both her and Hubert had got out of practice.

She had gone to the toilet and when she came back realised how dark the bar area was. Still, it meant that things felt more intimate and it was easy to ignore the rest of the world and even the dull thud of the bass beat coming from the disco in the basement. Terry had given her a thumbs up sign and she had smiled at the young woman.

As she finished her wine she said that it was time for her to go to bed by herself. He had grinned and said that it was his turn to give her a good night kiss.

She had said, "Perhaps the marinade needs a few more spices and herbs before tomorrow night." She knew that at stag do Hubert was attending a couple of strippers had been booked and that then the rest of his rugger bugger friends would be down a night club looking to pull. It was apparently compulsory for all attendees to try and get off with some 18 year old slapper, preferably the same one. A kiss and a cuddle were not important in the scheme of things.

She decided that it was safer for this kiss if she sat side-saddle on his lap. This meant that his dick would not be rubbing against her pussy and reduced the problems of the height discrepancy. He was about 6 foot tall, and she was 5 foot 4 inches ignoring heels. The kiss was even better than the first one. Her right hand again played with his hair and stroked his head while her left hand undid a couple of buttons on his shirt and played with the hairs on his chest.

His left hand was around her shoulders leaving his right hand to explore. It started off around her waist but as she undid his buttons he was encouraged to wander. She had sighed as he had touched her breasts and had raised no objection when he had undone some buttons on her dress. He had moved his hand inside the dress and squeezed and played with her breasts and nipples.

One of the problems with Hubert was that he did not really pay much attention to the upper half of her body. In the words of Simon, his oldest friend, Hubert had always been a bum man rather than a tit man. It was good having someone actually appreciate her tits for a change.

She stroked David's body just above the belt buckle. She recalled that when she had first started going out with men, that they had appreciated this. She did not entirely understand why. Perhaps it was mainly about anticipation that her hand might soon move lower down or maybe for some it was an erogenous zone.

The kiss had already lasted around 10 minutes when his hand had started to mix it up a little and stroke her thigh. The dress covered it, but she could imagine herself with her dress off. She shut her eyes and imagined that David Soul was snogging her. His hand moved under her dress and started to advance. She stopped the upward progression and moved it back to her tits.

If she had been wearing a shorter dress she doubted that she would have been able to resist the wandering hand, but the extra eighteen inches allowed her to come to her senses. The kiss only ended when she realised that he had stimulated her so much that she had involuntarily started to open her legs wide. This was not ideal when sitting side saddle. When that happened, she knew from memory that it was only a matter of minutes until she was on her back with the man between her legs. Sex was not inevitable, especially if she was wearing trousers, but she knew it was make her mind up time as she was wearing a dress.