Pokimane Gratuities Staff
At 2:40 am, the event I was working at had ended. I'd taken the job for the weekend; it promised lots of action but decent pay. It was my first time being a waiter back in college, and I figured I could use the extra cash. There were celebrities, athletes, and actors in attendance too - good opportunity for some star-gazing, I thought.
The party was uneventful to me; I was more focused on delivering expensive drinks to the richer folks than ogling their celebrity. I barely had a chance to enjoy the vibe or the hands aimlessly grabbing my butt while I served. But I managed to convince them to let me help with clean-up for some bonuses.
I was all alone in the kitchen when a woman's voice interrupted my stacking of plates and scraping of uneaten food.
"Excuse me?" she said softly, her voice audible over the tap water. "May I bother you for a moment?"
I swung around and saw a familiar face - a streamer known as Pokimane, dressed in a sleek, revealing black dress. She apologized for entering the kitchen area, the place probably not meant for guests' eyes. She looked stunning in her high heels that clicked loudly against the floor, making her stand out.
"I'm sorry," I said, deflating in embarrassment as I stopped the tap's flow. "How can I help?"
I found myself talking to this beautiful woman, trying to be polite without intruding on her personal space. Her perfectly-accented voice was sultry and high-pitched. She seemed to be in her early 20s; I felt like I was failing to keep up with her expensive lifestyle.
She walked towards me, showing off her toned leg where the hem of her dress revealed a glimpse of her olive-toned skin. "I was just wondering," she said softly, "if I've seen you somewhere before."
I laughed nervously, not wanting things to get awkward. "Possibly earlier in the night," I reassured her as I dried my hands. "This is my first time at one of these events."
She blushed. "Oh, well. I noticed you were working extra hard."
"My income will definitely appreciate the work," I joked, avoiding sounding greedy.
She laughed, signaling my joke hit the mark. "Actually," she said, "I came back here because I saw how much effort you put into your work. I was wondering if you needed some help?"
"No, my job's done now," I said, expecting her to leave after fulfilling her filtration.
"Mmm, may I give you extra cash then?" she asked, much to my surprise.
"You don't have to; I was okay with the pay," I said, surprised at her generosity.
"But I noticed you were...looking at me quite obviously." She grinned, knowing I was caught staring and teasing me for it.
"I'm sorry," I stammered, realizing my gaffe. "I never meant to make you uncomfortable."
"It's okay," she smiled. "I might have found it flattering. But since you refuse, can you at least accept my compliments? I'm thankful for your hard work during the event."
And that was that. There I was, simply being a waiter that night, not expecting to encounter a celebrity. She left with a stunning smile, leaving me with a pleasant memory. I had a small hint of gratitude for this little encounter.
The girl's face distorted as if disapproving. Tiny wrinkles appeared along the edge of her nose, but did little to reduce the cuteness created by her makeup. She questioned, "Who told you that?"
I paused for a moment, not wanting to implicate anyone. "Just," I hedged," the boss, you know?"
She appeared perplexed, touching her index finger to the corner of her chin while she had one arm across below her chest. While continuing to clutch her purse, she mused "But I'm the boss."
"You're," I stuttered. "Obviously you are," I quickly tried to correct my slip, "or rather, the manager. I'm unsure about the work hierarchy."
I hesitated and reduced my volume. "To be honest, it's insignificant."
She puckered her lips once more, showing dissatisfaction. "That's unfortunate," she declared as she stepped toward me again, "because I was feeling unusually generous tonight."
I attempted to cede, only to discover myself pushed against the cold metal pipe behind me. The water soaked into my clothes, causing a shiver to run through me, which she misinterpreted as desire as she chuckled lightly.
"Miss," I began, "are you teasing me?"
"You can call me Imane," she interjected.
"Yes, certainly. That's your name..."
"Say it."
My skin flushed; there was no way to hide my embarrassment as I found myself standing so close to her and could smell her perfume. She stepped closer, her chest nearly pressing against the front of my jacket. If not for the dress, she would have been pressing against my crotch.
"Imane, I," a gurgle rose from my throat as I swallowed, "are you flirting with me?"
"Why would you assume that?" she asked, reaching forward, her fingertip playing with my buttons. Her palm slid lower. "Do I have such a bad reputation?"
"I wouldn't have any knowledge about the rumors," I replied. "I'm not a fan of idle chatter."
"That's good," she exclaimed swiftly. "That means you'll keep this between us, yes?"
"Keep," I began, "what between us?"
"The gossip," she declared. "The talk that when I'm tipsy, I find cute guys and blow them..."
"Is that something people believe?" I asked.
"Only those who enjoy spreading rumors..."
I gulped as she squeezed my penis. Using both her hands, she trapped me with her hand firmly gripping my member near the base as she pressed it against my inner thigh.
"Here we go!" she exclaimed, beaming to herself.
I struggled to maintain my composure as she massaged. "What are you doing?"
"I said I wanted to give you a tip," she interrupted me.
She stroked me slowly as she spoke. "You won't dismiss me, will you?"
In spite of her forcefulness, or because of it, my penis failed to achieve full hardness. I told myself that if it didn't react, I'd break it when I got home.
"I'm simply."
"Hold this," she instructed, handing me her purse.
I quickly clutched it to my body as she got into a low squat before me. Her dress showed off her curves as her body bent and her legs splayed wide, making me desire a mirror opposite.
She cooed seductively and I felt her warmth encompass my tip as she closed her mouth over it. Still holding it tightly, she sought no escape for my member. She caressed it against her tongue, sucking softly as though reading my thoughts. The movements of her head were slow, deliberate, and gentle. She sucked from about mid-shaft, sliding towards my head until her lips, guarding her teeth, massaged my tool.
She loosened her grasp, holding my apparatus with just her thumb and index finger, and moved up my shaft. Her lips, shielding her teeth, gently slid on the top half. She hummed in satisfaction as her lips, surrounding my cockhead, sucked softly.
Her eyes slid upward and she repeated the process. It took only a few moments for my brain to cease trying to resist and my penis reacted as it should. The longer she sucked, the more excited I became.
She relaxed her grip, grasping my penis only at the base, and caressed me there. She moaned, humming with pleasure as her lips massaged my member. Her tongue was warm, moist, and coated with saliva. It offered a smooth texture for my underside to slide against earlier, causing my tip to be sucked into the back of her throat. The fact that she could take only about half of my length comfortably caused a confidence boost.
"Gosh!" I exclaimed. My legs shook as my body lost its power due to the intense pleasure coursing through me. My hand instinctively found its way to the back of her head, and I nearly said sorry until her increased efforts caused me to change my mind. I squeezed her hair lightly, watching as her curly tresses shifted beneath my fingers, and she became even more excited.
Her moans filled the room, sounding far from ladylike as she performed oral sex on me with her talented mouth. The delicate, airy voice she usually had was nowhere to be found, replaced by that of a dirty, insatiable slut, salivating while she serviced my manhood.
She reached out with both hands, trying to find an angle that would caress my most sensitive areas. It started to make sense - we weren't making love, this was pure, uncouth animal instinct. That's why she allowed me to delve deeper into the back of her throat. Why she consciously spread her legs, hinting at her lewd intentions. Why her tongue pushed against the underside of my cock, grinding my glans against her mouth's roof. Why her eyes locked onto mine, pleading with me to reach my climax.
And that's what I did. I shivered, arching my back involuntarily as one of her hands clutched her hair while the other squeezed her purse until my knuckles turned white. My come shot out of me, coating her tongue with thick, salty seed as thick as syrup.
"Wow...wow," I stumbled, my head tilting back from the sudden intensity of the orgasm. Her hand gripped her hair while the other squeezed her purse until my knuckles turned white. My semen gushed out of me, coating her tongue with sticky jizz, like liquid honey.
"Aha!" she laughed, rising to her feet. She grabbed her purse from my weak grip and swatted me playfully. "Clean yourself up...put that thing away. Oh, and make sure you're free on the weekends of next month."
She turned to face me for a moment, making sure her dress was properly in place. Without a second glance in my direction, she left.
