Howard and Jo (closed)

[scribe_m]

It's the night before a major holiday, and that means the employees have the day off. It also means I and the skeleton crew have to get rid of anything past their expiration date, any returned food from the customers, and anything ordered for take-out but not picked up by customers. Fried clams... baked beans... chicken pot pies... frankfurters... hamburgers... fries... steaks... Well, the steaks went fast, but we still have that other food left.

I hadn't seen Jo since she went off to college. I remember her as some nerdy little girl who was a friend of my sister. And who bugged me as much as my kid sister, as well. Except my kid sister went into programming after she graduated college, and I ended up managing a local orange-roof and blue-building restaurant. Not much to be proud of, but paid our bills -- sis and I lived together away from the parents -- and saved us a lot of money with the leftover food. And, it turned out, Jo wanted a job there. Sure, why not. My little sister had loose lips (both above her neck and between her legs), and mentioned that Jo was a slut in college, loved being hand-fed, and maybe I'd get lucky with her and have that food sex I've always wanted, rubbing my dick on her belly with all 28 flavors of the ice cream we served. WTF? That sister of mine had always been a pervert (and got a job making sex games -- what the hell is "Sexy Tetris", anyway??) but I guess it runs in the family.

Anyway, Jo's been working her for a few months. When I saw her again, she wasn't a nerd anymore. Sure, she put on the freshman fifteen, but, boy, did she fill out nicey. Ass... breasts... belly... Okay, so I didn't mind them on the chubby side. That's not your business. And hiring her was the best thing I ever did there. We needed someone that day, since we were short on staff, and she was well-qualified. I mean, I knew her personally, and she could be responsible (at least in front of my Mom when she visited, certainly not me). I did catch her eating off returned customer plates right after her late shift, and had to discipline her. Yes, you could eat the food, but, no, not until we were closing the restaurant. We often ate together after work, sometimes with a few others who hung around only for a snack or something light.

Tonight was a bit different. "Oh, I hurt my hand when we closed up the restaurant and could you feed me?" The heck? Well, the others had left by the time she told me this, and filling out a worker's comp form in the wee hours of the morning wasn't what I wanted to do. So, fine. I'd hand-feed her leftover food, now that we closed up. We were in the break room and I pulled up one of the small tables to the comfy sofa (and, if my little sister told you that employees had sex there, I'm gonna deny it). Jo was looking a little more comfortable than I thought she would, and I asked, "Okay, how would you like me to start?"

And I'm also gonna deny saying this, but hiring Joe was the best thing I ever did there.

 

[Emstar303]

I was a great waitress, phenomenal even - which is why I didn’t worry about stealing from the kitchen every now and again. I deserved it, because I brought in the customers. I was friendly, never got an order wrong, and pretty enough to look at but not pretty enough for girls to be threatened I’d steal their boyfriends. I filled out the uniform nicely, but girls thought I was too chubby to be any real threat. But some guys do like it thick, and I was starting to suspect my friend Hanna’s older brother might be one of them.

I feel like I’d catch him staring at me whenever he was supervising the front, and Hanna had told me he was zeroed in on my ass the other day when things were slow and I’d been washing tables. Not only that, but I’ve seen him look down my shirt after hours, when the three of us and whatever other coworkers were around for a late night snack before heading home for the night. He didn’t seem to mind hanging out with his kid sister and her best friend anymore.

And tonight, I’d finally gotten him alone with some lame excuse about burning my hand on a hot dish. He’d agreed to feed me, and I was hoping he meant he was my dessert… after the real dessert, of course!

I smiled and thought for a moment at the question as to what to eat first. “Why don’t we start with the classic? Feed me some steak and fries.” I decided, leaning forward so he could get a great view down my light blue checkered shirt - the buttons of which were straining to stay closed against my ample bosom. My shirt had a stain down towards the hem with some chocolate ice cream I’d devoured on break, but I was hoping he would be too distracted by my cleavage to notice.