You've Got It, But Don't Flaunt It

Her name was Alice, and she was smoking hot - and she knew it. At eighteen, she was at the top of her game when it came to drawing the attention of members of the opposite sex. She had a fit five-eight body that she emphasized by wearing her favorite short shorts that displayed her extremely long shapely legs and stopped barely below the curve of her really tight round butt cheeks. Her shorts hung ridiculously low off her modest hips, snugly cupping her sweet little pussy while amply displaying her trim waist and taut stomach.

But Alice's pride and joys were her youthful breasts that projected noticeable from her narrow chest - not overly large but definitely not too small. Without the support of a bra, her "babies" seemingly defied the law of gravity as evidence by that telltale jiggle and sway whenever she moved. Tear-drop in shaped, they hung with enough heft to give her that full look and noticeably stretch the thin material of the crop tops that Alice favored. I can't tell you just how many men wished for a sudden downpour that would drench her top and brazenly highlight her perfect pair of tits.

As a Eurasian, Alice was a unique blend of her Japanese mother and her blond-haired father. From her mother, she acquired a fragile face with elfish eyes of intrigue and mirth, high cheekbones, a cute nose, and delicate lips. In sharp contrast to her fine ivory-porcelain skin, were Alice's mouthwatering dark-red nipples that her Asian genes ensured were always thick, long, and erect cylinders of flesh that were as provocative as hell.

From her father, Alice got her height, a slender build, and very long legs. Instead of dark Asian hair, hers was light-brown, long, straight, and fell freely to the middle of her back. Her European genes gave Alice alluring hazel eyes that could capture any man's attention and promptly induce an instant swelling in his pants. When combined with her father's assertive nature and her mother's inscrutable grace, Alice's beauty was striking and devastating to the opposite sex.

My name is Mike and I am the owner and bartender of a small intimate watering hole that was just off the business district. With my cook, Jose, and his kitchen helper, Hal, we were able to serve up a simple fare of burgers, fries, chili, nachos, and other bar food for the afternoon to the early-evening crowd. My two cocktail waitresses, Marge and Jill, took orders from our patrons, delivered the food, and dispense the drinks that I poured. My place enjoyed a good number of regulars who needed a drink or two to unwind before heading home. However, when my bar became better known, I was forced to pitch in while tending the bar. I finally decided to hire another employee and placed a job posting for a cocktail waitress.

It was late morning as I was prepping my bar for the impending happy hour crowd when in walked Alice. "Hi! Are you Mike? I'm Alice...your new cocktail waitress," she said brimming with confidence.

A stunning vision of youthful loveliness, Alice wore this oversized white drop shoulder crop top with a swooping neckline, loose short sleeves, and a bare midriff. By the way, the material of her top's front sway and wiggled, I knew she was without a bra. A tight pair for thin short-shorts hung from her hips, snugly clung to her pussy, barely covered her buns, and amply displayed her lovely long legs. Flunky wedge sandals were strapped around her ankles and calves in a stylistic flare to complete this picture of beauty.

When I finally remembered to breathe and close my open mouth, I took another good long look at Alice who was smug to the point of bordering on cockiness. I then sternly uttered, "No. Sorry, I can't use you."

The look of shock on Alice's face was priceless. I knew then that in her entire life she had never been turned down...especially by a guy. Desperate to save face, she hastily blurted, "Ah, you... mean that the job has been filled already?"

"No - the job hasn't been filled. I just don't want to hire you for it."

"What? Why not? I know I may look young but I assure you that I'm eighteen, am a high school graduate, and will make a good employee." When I repeated my earlier denial, Alice became incensed and demanded, "Can you at least give me a reason behind your quick decision?"

I said nothing for a while and then looking Alice straight in the entrancing hazel eyes of hers, I calmly said, "You are too pretty."

Alice was baffled by my disclosure as her pretty little mouth fell open while she stared at me in utter disbelief. Surprisingly, the first thing that popped out of her mouth was, "That's unfair...it's...discriminatory!"

Chuckling, I corrected her, "Bring 'pretty' is not a protected class under federal or state discrimination laws." Then taking a deep breath, I said, "Sorry if you wasted your time coming down here, but my decision still stands."

"Wait! No! What does being pretty have to do with you turning me down? I would think you would want an attractive cocktail waitress. Tell me...please. Look, I promised my folks, especially my Dad, that I could take a year off before starting college if I would find a job to support my personal expenses. If you're not going to hire me, can you at least be truthful with me and tell me the real reason. Please?"

"Alice, do you want the unvarnished truth? Can I be blunt with you even if it means that I may possibly offend you? Is that what you want?" Alice thought a bit and then nodded her head. "Okay. You are extremely attractive and that can give me two kinds of problems.

"The first is that a cocktail waitress' pay is supplement by the tips she gets. While good service usually leads to good gratuity, pretty looks lead to much more. Marge and Jill, my two long-time girls are okay-looking, middle-aged, and with families to support. As a result, there is no competition between them. However, if I were to hire you...well...let's just say that my other two girls will eventually become short-changed on tips. This would result in hard-feelings and disrupt my business."

"But - I wouldn't steal another waitress' customers..."

"You might not...but you cannot control a customer who wants to be served only by a ravishingly pretty young woman, hoping to be serviced by you in more than one way. That brings us to the next problem. This a drinking establishment and it has its own working risks for cocktail waitresses...namely, the drunken customer. Alice, alcohol lowers a man's inhibitions, and some drunks who are normally nice guys can be real assholes when under the influence."

"Look, Mike, I know how to handle guys. Believe me that I've handled them all of my life," Alice quickly and hotly interjected.

"Okay, I can see that I'll have to prove a point. Here are a bar towel and tray. I want you to pretend that a large party has just left that large round table and that you have to clear their glassware and plates, and then clean it for the next customer. Do you think you can do that?"

With a sassy look on her face, Alice took the towel and tray before making her way to the edge of the table. As I thought she would, Alice bent from the waist over the edge as she pretended to clear and then clean the table.

"Stop! Don't move! Stand there just as you are! Don't move!"

Alice froze at my sudden and unexpected command. Stepping up to the table, I had a clear view down her loose top that had fallen away to display her spectacular boobs with their stiff fat nipples. In addition, her bent-over position had caused her short-shorts to rise up and reveal quite a lot of her butt-cheeks.

"You have magnificent breasts, Alice," I stated factually. "And one of the most enticing asses that I've seen in a long time."

Alice jerked upright, loudly gasping in surprise, as one hand subconsciously covered her boobs while the other made sure to pull down the ream hem of her shorts. "You... you...fucking bastard! You...oooh..."

"Calm down, Alice. Remember you wanted the brutal truth. The point is that you're are so beautiful that flaunting your...'assets'...has become second-nature. You're not even aware of what you're doing...or more so, what you're not doing. When you mix this lack of awareness with a drunken male customer...well...he will try to shove his 'cock' up your 'tail,' my want-to-be-a-cocktail-waitress. When that happens, I will be forced to defend you and a bar brawl is not a pretty thing.

"I am sorry that I had to 'shock' you...it's not my habit to ogling of pretty girl's privates. But, do you now understand now why I can't hire you as a cocktail waitress?"

Alice collapsed into the nearest chair and with her head hung low as my point struck home. Softly sobbed, she pitifully murmured, "I...never thought of what you just said, Mike. I just thought that I could...well...that it would be a snap to be a waitress... 'charm' my customers...into buying drinks and giving me tips...but not of the possible negative consequences. I guess...you hit the nail on the head. Jeez, I'm not even aware that I'm flaunting myself...and shit, I'm not every trying to do that. It's sad to be thought of as just being a pretty little thing...who can't even get a lousy job."

For a while, I didn't say anything and let Alice cry herself out. I felt sorry for the cruel ploy that I had used to make my point. It was then that a thought came to me.

"Alice - I said that I wouldn't hire you as a cocktail waitress...but, I might be willing to hire you as my bar assistant, if you'd be interested in the job?"

"What?" gasped Alice. "A bar assistant?"

"Look, I advertised for a cocktail waitress because I thought I needed another pair of hands. But, instead of in front of the bar, maybe I really needed help behind the bar. When things get hectic, I find myself stretched thin - doing the drinks, restocking, pushing out the food, doing the cash register, and even sometimes, clearing tables.

"A bar assistant would help me by restocking the booze, washing the glassware, prepping the garnishes, and keeping the bar itself clean. It may sound easy but it's tough work especially getting things from the storage room. When things get very busy, you'll help the girls by delivering food and clearing tables. If you can do that, you'll free me to focus on my customers and the bar itself.

"I got to warn you that you won't make as much as a cocktail waitress because you won't get getting tips, but you make enough to cover most of your personal expenses. On top of that, I can teach you bartending, starting with how to draw tapped beer and pour straight shots. From there, you'll move to mixed cocktails and customer service. As a bartender, you'll get paid more and you get to keep your bar tips. What do you say, Alice? Are you interested in the job?"

Alice's response was true to her assertive and impulsive nature - she threw her arms around my neck and enthusiastically kissed me with gratitude while energetically crushing her boobs against my chest. "Yes! Yes, Mike! I accept...ooh...thank you!" squealed my new bar assistant before hugging me again with that to-die-for young body of hers.

"Okay, okay!" I gasped as I regrettably extracted myself from Alice's embrace. "You're doing it again...tone down your sexuality...or you may give you new boss a sudden heart attack.

"Whew! Okay. Now, here are some ground rules that we...or more so you...need to follow. First of all, I am not hiring you because you're pretty and downright sexy. I am taking a chance on you because I like your spunky attitude and want to make your first employment experience a good one...and, to be honest, I could really use the help and backup around the bar.

"Secondly, you don't need to show off your body. You must become more aware of the flaunting that comes so naturally to you. For starters, when you work behind the bar, you must be appropriately dressed and show as little flesh as possible. A long-sleeve collared button-down blouse, long dark pants, and covered-toed shoes are a start. You can wear jewelry but it should be simple for safety reasons. Oh, and Alice, wear a bra... oh no...don't make that pouty little girl's face. I don't want male customers leaning over the bar to catch a glimpse of your outstanding titties...the images of which are forever seared into my memory...every time you bend over. Modesty, my dear, modesty.

"Third, because our customers are downtown business people, we work Monday through Friday. Prep work starts at one in the afternoon and we're open at two. Around seven-thirty in the evening, we do the last call and start to clean up and restock so that we can close by nine for a full eight-hour workday. Parking is expensive but I have a reserved stall allotted to the bar, and so the crew piles into my van and I drop them off at home after work. I can do that or you if you want...

"Make sure you inform your parents of your job and of your opportunities for advancement. If you want, invite them down to this place so that they can meet me and the crew, and see that this isn't some sleazy joint. Maybe they can have a drink or two and something to eat...however, not on the house. Their drinks and food help pay for your salary and benefits.

"Don't be offended, Alice, but is there a jealous boyfriend or in your case, boyfriends... lurking around who might show up one night to make a scene?"

"Ha!" laughed Alice who had all this time given me her utmost attention. "I wish! People think that I have tons of boyfriends but the sad truth is that I haven't had one yet. Most guys are...intimidated...by my looks and don't feel secure enough to ask me out.

"The few who do are either the geeky infatuated kind whom I let them down easy...or the cocky full-of-themselves type guys...you know like jocks...who like to brag about themselves and their many female conquests. They are looking to add another notch on their puny dicks. Funny, these guys can't take it when they find that I am not interested in going out with them.

"The last group are...well...older guys...the type who look for pretty young girls, or as one of them grossly put it, 'jail-bait.' While these men are intriguing and fun to be with, I have managed to fend them off when they want to get hot-and-heavy with me. After that, the relationship kind of fizzles and fades away. That's why I mistakenly thought that I could handle male customers as a cocktail waitress."

"Okay, that brings up the last rule, Alice. Because you are drop-dead pretty, you will attract a lot of those older men...and especially some young ones...who will want to become 'more friendly' with you...if you know what I mean? Since you're eighteen, I cannot stop you from becoming better 'acquainted' with a customer. I do, however, have to warn you that in the downtown business district, word gets around fast. Talk of an "easy teenager" spreads like wildfire. Watch yourself, Alice."

"Thanks for the warning. For now, I just want to focus on my new job and not interested in finding some sugar-daddy. Hmmm...now that I've shared my innermost secrets with you, what about you, Mike? You're a nice-looking guy...trim and fit...and about... what...five-eleven. Do you have a wife and maybe a family? A girlfriend?"

"Me? Ha, hell no. I worked my way through college by being a bar assistant and then a bartender. I then went into bar partnership with another guy and learned the managerial and inventory side of the bar operation. When he wanted to return home to take care of his aging parents, we sold the business and split the selling price. With my share, my savings, a bank loan, and a small inheritance from my grandparents, I bought this place from a guy who wanted to retire and then hired my small crew.

"For the last five years, we've busted our butts and have been doing okay. After all expenses were accounted for and a little set aside for a rainy day, I gave my workers annual bonuses which weren't too shabby. However, at thirty-two, I spend nearly all my waking hours in this place...even have a cot to storeroom. I guess it's an occupational necessity because there's a shower and sink in the storeroom that the former owner had installed. For now, a girlfriend...much less a wife and family...is off the radar scope, so to say."

"Well then, we should celebrate with some champagne on you hiring me and my new job as your new bar assistant, and to the hope that one day we find whom we are looking for!" piped up a cheerful Alice.

"Ha! No free booze, remember? We'd be cutting into your end of year bonus."

"Yes, boss!" snapped Alice with a smart salute. But then she beamed one hell of a sexy smile and purred, "You're no fun, Mike...but we shall see."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Word of an exotically beautiful Eurasian eighteen-year working behind the bar at my place spread throughout the business district like lightning striking an anthill, resulting a whole lot of activity and interest. My bar suddenly became so jam-packed with so many men that I was forced to replace the larger group round tables with smaller square tables and place standing cocktail tables along the walls. The premium seating, however, was at the bar where the lucky customers could simultaneously imbibe in their favorite drink while drinking in Alice's physical delights.

To her credit, Alice did her best to rein in her flaunting (as we came to call her unconscious sexuality). But it was like trying to hide the Sun in a gunnysack since her innate beauty and vivaciousness just kept shining out. It didn't help that her flimsy bras failed to control her wiggling boobs or the nipple bumps which were punched in her sheer blouses. Older guys often requested the expensive top-shelf drinks just so Alice would have to stand on a step-stool and reach up, accentuating the curve of her incredible ass and the shapeliness of her long legs. Although her long hair was either in a pony-tail or put up, stray strands unintentionally escape and highlighted her lovely exotic face. No matter what Alice did, she just couldn't help but be sexy.

However, her success behind the bar didn't rest solely on her good looks and young body. Blessed with an excellent memory and an engaging and pleasant personality, she was friendly to many, greeting and dealing with her regulars in a personal manner. She had a knack of recalling little details about each and made many of her older male patrons feeling extra special before heading home to their wives.

As for the younger male (and a few female) hopefuls who flocked to the bar, they were simply entranced with Alice's beauty. When they vied with each other to win her affection, she paid them enough attention but without encouraging them or playing one against the other. Although Alice never encouraged her male patrons, I was often glad that a wide wooden bar separated her from them. However, for the truly persistent ones, she deflected their entreaties gently by saying that she was already taken by a mysterious older man who dominated her heart and mind.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The months flew by and before we knew it, the Holidays were upon us. During a little after-closing get-together, I announced, "Everyone, let's raise a glass of our first ever on-the-house bottle of champagne to celebrate our rather successful year. The bar's business has been so brisk that our profit margin has grown. You two girls," I said looking at my Marge and Jill who were my two waitresses, "have enjoyed a significant increase in tips which I'm sure has made you happy. We're doing so well that my bartender tips have gone to Juan and Hal which I know made them elated."

Then handing out envelopes to everyone, I continued, "In addition to your end-of-year bonus which has been beefed up, I have decided to close the bar for the last week of the year for us to enjoy a well-deserved time-off. Don't worry - I will pay your salaries and benefits during the one-week vacation. Enjoy it with your families and love ones" This unexpected treat brought a round of cheers and a swift refilling of our glasses.