I saw the pretty little thing hanging behind the bar with an easy smile and blond hair. She also wore a sheer white shirt and a short little skirt purely for larger tips.
With a smile on my lips, I strolled behind her. She tensed, feeling my intentions, but committed to serving a martini to the drunk woman on at the bar. The second the glass slipped from her fingertips, I reached out and took her hand, pulling a black cuff around her wrist closer.
“This is lovely,” I purred into her ear. At the same time, my other hand slipped down and tugged up on her skirt. Her dark-rimmed eyes opened wide and I could hear the tiny gasp over the din of glasses and conversations.
She struggled with words. My fingers delved up along the stocking clad curves of her ass. A twist of the fingers created a new opening and two long fingers wormed their way between her thighs, enjoying the heat and pressure that caressed my senses.
I tapped her left foot. Her soft breasts rose up through the thin fabric but she spread her legs just enough for my finger to run along the suddenly wet folds.
“Where did you get it?” I said, keeping up appearances as two fingers parted her pussy, running along her lips to find the deeper opening.
When she didn't answer, I drove the two fingers up into her, enjoying how she gasped loudly and clutched the bar.