A Vaguely Familiar Face

Kyle stops at a diner for a meal. Dominique the waitress vaguely recognizes him. When she figures out where, Dominique provides Kyle with a sexual treat.

Part One

A cynic will say no good deed goes unpunished. An optimist thinks he or she might be rewarded sometime in the future for doing something helpful for another person just for the sake of being altruistic. The latter happened to me—but it took me ten years to reap the benefit.

My name is Kyle Madison. One day when I was 25 years old, I stopped into an out-of-the-way diner to grab a late meal. I had been working steadily since 11 a.m. at the office and I hadn’t had anything substantial to eat since I consumed a light breakfast. It was now 11 p.m., so I had gone a long time without eating. I was famished. Colleagues had told me this particular diner was open until midnight on weekdays—and this was a Thursday. I had never been there before, but my co-workers overwhelmingly said it served good food at reasonable prices. Because of their endorsements, I figured I might as well give it a try sometime. Tonight seemed to be the ideal occasion for it.

When I walked through the front door, another customer walked out—leaving me as the only person in the building with the exception of its two-person staff, the waitress and the cook. I sat myself at “any unoccupied table” as per the instructions posted on the wall. I made eye contact with the waitress, a cute, green-eyed, shapely blonde who had to be no more than 20 years old. She smiled at me. I got the impression she was scrutinizing me for some reason, so I asked. “You’re still open, right? I understand you don’t close until midnight.”

“Oh, yes, we’re still open for another hour,” she confirmed as she glanced at the clock on the wall. “You can still order anything you want. There’s no problem at all. Here’s one of our menus for you to look at, sir.”

“Good. Thank you,” I said. I scanned the six-page menu and ordered the daily special, which was a meat loaf dinner that included coffee and a slice of pie. Within ten minutes, the waitress, whose nametag said Dominique, had brought my order to the table. I thanked her for her swift service.

All in all, it wasn’t a bad meal for the price I was charged. However, I couldn’t help but notice that Dominique seemed to be constantly staring at me. I fearfully examined myself to see if I had spilled anything on my shirt or trousers. I hadn’t. When I was looking downward, I also checked to see if my fly was open. It wasn’t. Finally, I worked up the nerve to ask her, “Miss, you seem to be fixated on me. Am I doing something wrong?”

“No, not at all,” she said somewhat apologetically. “However, you certainly have a familiar face. I have a fairly good memory. I know for sure that we’ve met before. I just can’t place where or when that would have been.”

I mentioned where I worked. She had never heard of my company, so she didn’t know me based on my place of employment. I had never set foot in the diner before that night, so the same thing applied to her. I told her my name, in case that was somehow helpful; she told me hers was Dominique Cranston. That didn’t help either. We had no other links. We didn’t belong to the same clubs nor did we have mutual friends, either.

Finally, Dominique suggested something from the past. “Did you ever live on Birch Street here in town?”

“Yes!” I exclaimed. “My entire family resided in a house there for about a dozen years. My parents still live there today.”

“So did my family!” Dominique stated. “It’s a big street, though, so it’s understandable that we could both live there at the same time and not really know each other by name.” Indeed, when we said what our respective house numbers were, I discovered Dominique had lived on the other side of an intersecting street and altogether more than 20 houses from where I and my family did.

This breakthrough still didn’t satisfy Dominique. “I’m certain we had some sort of interaction as kids,” she insisted. “In fact, I’d bet money on it.”

When I started to visualize the approximate location of Dominique’s house I had an epiphany. “I think I know when we met before!” I declared. “About a decade ago, there was a girl who was approximately ten years old who was being picked on by some boys. She was crying. I happened to come by and asked her if she needed help. She said yes, so I walked her home. Would you have been that little girl, Dominique?”

“Yes, that’s exactly it!” she said with relief and joy. “I knew we’d be able to figure it out eventually if we thought about it long enough.”

Dominique reminded me of the details of that long-ago day. She was in the fifth grade and was the first girl in her class to blossom. The boys in her class, of course, couldn’t help but notice. A few of them began making crude remarks to her. One day, a few of the more vulgar lads began to follow her home. She began to fear for her safety. I was in high school at the time, so my classes were already over for the day. I recalled I went to the corner to mail a letter, and I came across this very worried, very vulnerable, little girl who feared for her safety and needed my help. I actually slapped one of the boys who were harassing her. That blow scattered the rest of them. I then safely escorted her home without even asking what her name was. I made sure one of her parents was at home. Her mother was. I didn’t stay long to chat. I just said to her, “Your daughter needed help, so I made sure she got to her home alright.” Then I promptly left and thought nothing further about the incident—until now.

“You came to my rescue, Kyle,” she said gratefully. “Who knows what might have happened to me if you hadn’t been nearby? I might have been in big trouble. Those horrible boys could have ganged up on me, and I would have been helpless.”

I figured Dominique was exaggerating a little bit about the boys being a serious threat to her, but I suppose if you are a 10-year-old girl and you perceive a group of hostile males as potential predators, your mind can go wild and imagine all sorts of unpleasant scenarios unfolding.

Dominique surprisingly became overly emotional when she recalled the story. Tears came to her eyes, and they began flowing down her cheeks. She certainly remembered more about the sordid incident than I did—which was totally understandable as she was the central character. I was just a passerby who chose to get involved.

“I never did thank you for your kindness that afternoon, Kyle,” she realized, “so I want to thank you now.” She approached me while I was still seated at my table. She threw her arms around me and gave me a bear hug. Then she kissed me on the cheek. Suddenly being mauled by a pretty, voluptuous, 20-year-old waitress was definitely not the worst thing in the world!

“That hug wasn’t good enough,” she told me. “Stand up and let me give you a proper one, Kyle!” I followed orders and promptly rose from my chair. We embraced and hugged some more. I started kissing her and she started kissing me. For a moment we both forgot we weren’t alone in the diner. A voice from the kitchen reminded me there was still a third person present.

“I take it this fellow is a friend of yours, Dominique,” said the cook who had a huge grin plastered on his face.

“Oh, yes, Monroe!” Dominique replied somewhat apologetically. “He pretty much saved my life ten years ago when I was a little girl.”

The cook, Monroe, didn’t seem to be interested in how or why Dominique and I knew one another. He made no comment and just went back to work. Dominique, to my delight, returned to plying me with hugs and kisses. Like any healthy, 25-year-old male under the circumstances, I felt myself getting aroused.

I took the initiative. “Dominique, I know this is sudden, but would you like to go somewhere tonight?” I didn’t specify for what purpose we ought to get together, but I figured Dominique was sharp enough to know we wouldn’t be playing canasta.

“My shift ends at 12:30,” she told me. “The diner itself closes at midnight, but Monroe and I spend another 30 minutes tidying up and preparing for the customers when it reopens for business at 6 a.m.”

“Oh,” I said disappointedly. I figured I had been rebuffed. However, Dominique quickly added something. She said, “Kyle, if you can wait until 12:30, I’d love to go somewhere with you tonight.”

I was delighted! I said that would be perfectly fine. I smiled at the thought of being intimate with this young beauty. I paid my bill, included a generous tip for Dominique, and waited at my table for 12:30.

Part Two

With no other customers present, Dominique began tidying up the diner well before midnight. Monroe did the same in the kitchen. When the clock struck midnight, Monroe was heading out the door. Dominique looked around and said, “Things look pretty tidy to me. I don’t have to linger here until 12:30.”

“Where would you like to go?” I inquired.

Dominique got an idea. “Hey, why don’t we just stay here, Kyle? No one will bother us, and if we get hungry, there’s lots of food for us to eat.”

“That’s okay by me. You are a cheap date, Dominique!” I joked.

“I’m also an affectionate one,” she noted just before she drew the blinds on the diner’s windows and surprised me by sitting on my lap. She immediately gave me a very passionate kiss—which I enjoyed. She began to run her fingers through my hair—which was something I hadn’t experienced for a while. I took a chance and began to caress her torso. The palms of my hands eventually cupped her prominent breasts. Dominique smiled coyly at me and softly said, “Go ahead, Kyle. Feel my tits. You deserve to have a sexual treat.”

Since she said I could, I happily did. I aggressively began fondling and squeezing her breasts through her pale-blue waitress uniform. They were quite lovely objects. I could feel my penis rising and stiffening in my trousers. “They are absolutely lovely,” I told her. “You certainly have a fabulous figure, Dominique.” Since she was about 5’4” and I was 6’1”, Dominique could sit on my lap and enthusiastically kiss my lips while I massaged her breasts. It was undoubtedly the best service I had ever received at any diner in my life!

“Let me give you a blowjob for saving me all those years ago, Kyle,” she insisted. I would never say no to receiving fellatio from any female, let alone one who had Dominique’s good looks, so I quickly unbuckled my belt and dropped my trousers and cotton briefs to the tile floor. Dominique re-positioned herself on her knees and proceeded to give me the best blowjob of my life. She was obviously experienced at performing this sexual act. She seemed to really enjoy giving my shaft long, sensual, upward licks. When she saw that my penis was pointing skyward and was sufficiently hard for intercourse, she completely undressed in front of me in an impromptu striptease. I felt like I ought to applaud. I didn’t, but I made a point of saying she had “an absolutely awesome figure” that any female would envy. This was the honest truth. I figured Dominique could have a career as a bikini model.

Dominique again sat down on my lap. I cheerfully resumed fondling her goodies, paying particular attention to her sexy and prominent nipples, which got hard in a hurry. I was drawn to them, of course, and sucked on them joyfully. Dominique gently tugged on my penis while I did this. This girl knew how to please a male!

I kidded her. “Dominique,” I informed her, “I hope you realize this is precisely what those rude boys wanted to do with you a decade ago!”

“I didn’t have breasts like this when I was ten, Kyle,” she said. “They were just pokey breast buds back then—but they sure got the boys’ attention when I first got them. I got more attention year by year as my bra size increased.”

“No fifth-grade boy could handle you now. That’s for sure,” I said before resuming my sucking and fondling of Dominique’s marvelous physical assets. I spent a lot of quality time enjoying Dominique’s tits. I profusely thanked her for that opportunity.

Finally, Dominique mounted me for a terrific fuck, making sure my stiff dick fully entered her hairy vagina in one motion. The physical sensation of my phallus entering Dominique’s pussy was heavenly. She enhanced my pleasure by bouncing up and down on it and occasionally gyrating her hips. Yes, she certainly knew what she was doing.

There was no way I was going to last very long with this sexpot riding my penis so assertively and passionately. I warned her I was going to come in a matter of seconds, but she didn’t seem to care. Indeed, about 15 seconds later I shot my load inside her pussy. I felt at least three spurts of jism leave my dick. I moaned with delight—and partly from exhaustion. Ejaculating always made me immediately sleepy. Sexual intercourse was always fun to me—but having sex completely out of the blue with someone who was overly grateful for a past kindness was off the charts! I placed my hands on each side of Dominique’s waist and helped her ride my shaft for another 30 seconds until I was certain she had totally drained my testicles of semen. Only then did we both take a break. Dominique seemed tired from the fuck, too. She fell forward against me, also sapped of energy.

“Well, this was the greatest meal I have ever had at any diner!” I joked while holding Dominique lovingly in my arms. “I’ll have to come back here more often. I’ll also tell all my friends and work colleagues about the wonderful, friendly waitress who works the late shift here.”

Dominique showed she possessed a fine sense of humor, too. She responded, “Yes, please come back tomorrow night at the same time, Kyle, and enjoy the diner’s Friday special…and I’m not talking about the half-price fish and chips.”