Bud was right about that part. Our waitress spent more time at our table than she did at any other in her section. By the time she cleared our salad plates, I had managed to get her wetter than I was. When she brought our entrees, I crooked a finger at her to get her to lean down. When she did. I put two fingers into her pussy up to the second knuckle and started twisting my hand.
"You know what?" I whispered into her ear, "Everyone at this table knows what I'm doing to you right now." As I said it, I pushed my fingers up all the way. She blinked several times before she looked around the table. All the eyes were on her. She turned bright red. "If you want a really big tip, before we finish dessert, you will cum for me standing right here at this table where we can all see you. Now give me a nice kiss if you like that idea."
Connie turned her head toward me and away from everyone at the table. She kissed me firmly on the lips and even slipped me a little tongue. I grinned back at her and said, "Lean on the table and rearrange the sugar packets." When she did, she spread her legs wider than before and I fucked her pussy with my thumb while I rubbed her clit with my fingers. She closed her eyes and moaned softly for us. I kept going for almost a minute, until she was almost lying in the bread basket, before I pulled my hand out. She looked down at me and I told her, "Don't neglect your other customers." She nodded and walked unsteadily off to refill water glasses.
The butter had barely had time to melt on my potato before she was back. The eagerness in her eyes had little to do with the prospect of a big tip. She was almost panting as she sidled up to my chair and spread for me. I put two fingers into her and gave her another minute's worth before she had to run along to see to a couple at a table next to the window.
She almost came the next time, but I saw another patron signalling to her and let her attend to him. It was several minutes later when she arrived for another treatment and we had almost finished our steaks. This time she would not be denied, and I whipped my fingers in and out of her so quickly that she came after only a few seconds. We could all tell, because she let out a small squeal and gripped the tablecloth in her fists. Bud and Jim had to hold the table so she did not push it over.
She was still cumming when I said, "I think we're ready to order dessert now." Trooper that she was, she pulled out her pad and pencil and took our order while still breathing like a locomotive and barely able to stand. Something must have made the manager notice, because he arrived just as Jim had asked for Crème Brule and I stated my preference for the carrot cake.
"Is everything all right?" he asked. "Are you enjoying your meal?"
"Oh, yes," Jim Reynolds answered, "We are having a wonderful time. Connie is taking excellent care of us. I'm sorry if we are monopolizing her, but she really is a most charming girl. She has made our meal the best I've had in months."
"Well, I am very glad to hear that." The manager said, proudly. "She has only been on the job a few days and I was concerned about how she would work out. I am proud to hear you compliment her so highly because she is my niece, you see."
Connie's blush nicely covered the sex flush that had spread over her face and throat. If she seemed unsettled, she now had a perfect cover for it.
The manager moved on to check on other tables and Connie went to put in our dessert order. I was sitting quietly, enjoying my buzz of arousal and wondering if I would get to play with Connie some more when suddenly I felt like someone had thrown a bucket of ice water on me. I 'heard' someone scream "FEAR!" I sat bolt upright in my chair. My eyes snapped wide open and I looked around the restaurant for the source. It was so strong; it had to be very close. I saw nothing out of the ordinary. I 'listened' and got some additional impressions — "dark, husband, gravel, cars, KNIFE FEAR FEAR FEAR". Whatever was happening must be in the parking lot and I had to get there in one great tearing hurry.
"Restroom!" I said in a hissed whisper and climbed off of my chair and jumped to the floor without waiting for Jim to pull it away from the table. I wasn't concerned about attracting attention while racing through the restaurant. I pushed the back door open and raced outside and around the corner of the building to the parking lot across the alley.
At first, I could not see anything unusual, but then I heard the crunch of feet on gravel and a voice speaking in hushed but angry tones. I ran toward the sound and when I turned the corner and looked around a parked SUV, I saw a man and a woman backed up against a car by another man who was holding a knife. The man with the knife seemed agitated and was making threatening gestures at both victims. The male victim seemed to be trying to reason with the mugger, who apparently wasn't interested in whatever line of bull he was being handed. I headed for the group at a dead run.
The mugger must have heard me coming up behind him, because he turned with one hand holding the man by the throat to look behind him. In the poor light, he must have seen only a girl in a short dress running at him. I could hardly have been much of a threat, but he still could not ignore me, so he turned enough to put the knife between us. That was all I needed.
I had no intention of giving him a free cut at me. I had learned that lesson the hard way with Bubba and his shiv. When I got close enough, I dropped to my hands on the rocky ground and swung a hard kick at his right knee. The action made my dress fly up around my waist, but modesty was not a consideration at the moment. If the sight of my bare butt distracted the mugger for even an instant, it was still an advantage for me.
When my heel hit his knee, I heard a crunch and felt the joint move in a direction that knees don't usually move. As he fell to the ground, I swung my feet back under me and stood up in a crouch out of his reach. The mugger cried out in pain as he fell face-first into the loose stone. He was down but not out, and he was still moving and therefore still dangerous.
I lost track of the knife in the reflection of the floodlight on the white gravel. Rather than wait to see if the mugger still had it, I danced around behind him as he tried to get up. I took good aim and kicked him in the back about where I thought his left kidney would be. He made an 'oof' sound, dropped back down to the ground like a bag of sand and did not move again.
I took a deep breath to try to calm down. It was only then that I remembered that I should have tranced-out before I fought the mugger. I had done everything completely unaided by my mental enhancement. Then I realized that I had learned a valuable lesson from sparring with Alex — do it first, do it fast, and do it without thinking about it. A quick aggressive offense is the best tactic in a fight. If they don't know what you're going to do until you've done it, then you have already won. I had definitely won this one.
turned to check on the couple who were still backed up against the car. They looked stunned and scared, but otherwise unharmed. Since they had already seen me and watched me take down the mugger, there seemed little point to running away or trying to hide.
"Are you guys OK?" I asked them, while I brushed the grit out of my palms. They looked to be in their late 40's or early 50's. The woman was nicely dressed and the man had on a tailored suit. Their car was full-sized, but too much on the plain side for a couple who were that well-dressed. The woman looked shaky, but was pulling herself together. The man just looked stunned, leaning against the car with his tie askew and his shirt pulled out where the mugger had had hold of him.
"Y... yes," the man said, "I think so." He glanced at his wife who nodded. He took a deep breath and straightened his shirt. "Thank you, thank you very much." He squinted down at me. The shadows hid my shape enough so all he had to go on was my dress and my size.
I had just started to back off and leave him to his misapprehension when I heard a voice I had heard before, "Grace? Bob? Are you both all right?"
"Jan? Jan Overton?" the woman said, "Is that you?"
Jan was like my guardian angel. Was it a coincidence that she is always there when I needed her? For some reason she seems to know I was involved in some situation. It seemed like Jan cares about her so she didn't want to investigate it. She trusted the woman who took her virginity to explain her side of things when she was ready.
"Yes, Grace. It's me. I'm very glad you're OK. Let's get you inside so you can sit down. Bob, do you want to handle this or should I call 911?"
"I'll do it," the man said, reaching for his cell phone, "it doesn't look like he's going to be any more trouble. Why don't you go on inside while I wait for a unit to get here?"
Jan said, "OK, but... Bob? Can we keep her out of this until we have a chance to talk?"
"Sure, but... who is she? She took down this clown like a pro."
"Inside, OK? I have a table. We'll be waiting." Jan and I escorted Grace inside while Bob made his call. I already had a funny feeling about this. Bob seemed a lot more in command of the situation than I thought your average victim should be after a mugging.
If Connie wondered why we had gone out the back and come back in the front, she didn't ask any questions. When I told her, we would need two more chairs she ran right off to fetch them. I was starting to develop a preference for people who could do their jobs without asking questions and still be willing to play with me — or let me play with them.
We got Grace to the table and had Connie bring her a glass of chardonnay to help calm her nerves. She had swallowed about half of it in the very short time before blue lights played through the front windows. Shortly after that, her husband came in and slid into the chair next to me. He asked Connie for a double-bourbon and then turned to face me.
"Young lady," he said, "Let me introduce myself. I'm Bob Foster and I want to thank you for your help out there. That was as neat a bit of unarmed combat as I have ever seen."
Jan spoke up from her chair on the other side of Grace, "Sam, this is Sheriff Foster. You remember seeing him on the TV news the other night talking about the capture of those escaped convicts."
Things fell into place at that bit of news. Now I knew why Jan hadn't bothered to try and cover for me outside. This was a man I very much needed to know. I hadn't had any time to plan what I would say in this situation, but as the cliché said, it was 'time to fish or cut bait'. I put on the most business-like face I could manage and pressed on with the conversation.
"Hello, Sheriff. I'm Sarah Stevens."