Millie Brown is currently 24, working at some run down, dingy diner, and most definitely is as pure as any human being could be. She never really thought of touching herself much or watching any of those tapes that the boys in high school had tried to give her. She remembered how desperate they all were to get into her pants, but even now she still didn't know exactly what to do while fucking another man. Of course she knew what went where, but it was just kind of something she never put the time in to find out more about.
It wasn't like she was waiting for marriage, or waiting for the right man to show up at her doorstep, it was just the fact that she hadn't found the man that she trusted to share the most intimate moment of her life with her.
The small little bell rang; indicating that there was a new customer and the brunette wanted to scream because she thought that no one really would come here close to midnight. Especially not a man. And he wasn't bad looking either.
The woman pretended she was occupied behind the counter using a towel to dry a clean mug as he sat down a few seats from her on the barstool to the countertop.
"I can see you're very busy," the raven haired man turned his head to gesture at the empty diner, "I'll take a menu whenever you get the chance."
The 24 year old shot him a cold glare as she placed the mug down and walked over to the waitress station that was behind the counter. Then handing him a menu.
"Thank you, Millie," the peculiar customer muttered as he began looking through the plastic covered paper. Her name was in basic little letters just above her left breast. They were almost fading as if she'd been working here for so long. She nodded in response as she now started to empty out the coffee from the glass pot that all of the old people loved when they came in the mornings.
"Do you own this diner all by yourself?" The man questioned without taking his eyes off the menu.
"No, my sister and I run it," the waitress informed him quietly without turning away from the sink.
"Ah well that explains why I've seen a woman that looks like you every time I come, but to be frankly honest, you're way prettier than she is."
Millie placed the clean pot back onto the machine and turned around to face her intimidating customer. It wasn't every night that a man in a leather jacket showed up at this place. He definitely rode a motorcycle.
"Thanks," she murmured as a slight blush grew on her cheeks and her eyes traveled to the counter, "usually it's the other way around that everyone likes my sister better. That's why I mostly do the night shifts and she does the day shifts."
"I'll take a chocolate milkshake," the stranger blurted very softly and the girl nodded her head as she traveled back to the kitchen.
Once the creamy mixture was done, she brought it out for the man as he was finishing a cigarette and he put it out in the ashtray. "What time do you leave work?" The man asked as he began to sip the milkshake.
The girl shrugged. "Whenever you leave I guess. We're supposed to be closed, but you came in right on closing time and I--uh don't kick customers out."
"Do you live far from here?" He queried in a curious tone as the waitress leaned against the opposite counter with her hands in front of her; fidgeting like crazy.
"Not really." She lied as her eyes traveled to the pictures on the wall that were behind him. The biker raised an eyebrow at the pretty waitress as he took advantage of her not paying attention to him. His eyes traveled up and down her perfect little frame. She wasn't very big in the chest area, but he still thought she was so fucking hot. How that little yellow dress and apron fit around her curves and flat stomach. How her short hair was pulled back into a messy bun. She even had those cute little high stop socks with red converse. He wanted her so badly.
