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Catethis story is part of the FanClub (fm:one-on-one, 2312 words)

Author: Ic Picture in profile
Added: Jul 17 2012Views / Reads: 2531 / 1922 [76%]Story vote: 9.53 (15 votes)
My night with a beautiful Scottish waitress that left me contemplating emigration.
 


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Her name was Cate. 5'8" with an athletic form, her bright crimson red hair hung way down her back in a pony tail. Beautiful but austere with sharp features and piercing brown eyes framed by thick rimmed glasses. She looked quite severe and distant until she smiled; then her whole face lit up like a welcome sign. How I loved that smile.

I met her in Scotland at a small hotel in the Borders. She was waitressing in the restaurant, I was escaping the monotony of office life on a weekend break. I was sat in the hotel bar having a quiet drink, trying to decide if ordering haggis was just too damned clichéd. I looked up and noticed her, bustling through the bar with a tray full of drinks. Dressed in plain black trousers and a tight black top I couldn't help but stare. Her long hair swinging as she hurried around the room, her sizeable breasts bouncing noticeably with every step. The effect was almost [censored].

I ordered my meal at the bar, and when she approached ten minutes later to lead me to my table I was trying to remember anything anyone had told me about being cool and relaxed around attractive women. It wasn't working, she made me incredibly nervous. As usual, probably a genetic thing we English suffer from, I resorted to being overly polite and all smiles. Guaranteed not to offend, but let's be honest, women don't swoon for a 'nice bloke'.

Infuriated with myself, I ate my meal in silence, fantasising about what ...

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