Raped waitress

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Linda Watson leaned wearily against the edge of the counter and looked up at the clock over the entrance to the diner. Three a.m. Only four more hours to go before her shift was over and she could go home. The firm-assed blonde inhaled deeply then sighed as she raised her right hand and brushed away a few strands of her long hair from her face. She hated working this night shift. She hated working in the diner. But how else could she support herself and her daughter, Judy?

"Hey angel tits, some more coffee!" a tall, unshaven, pot-bellied truck driver growled from the other end of the counter.

"Coming, coming," Linda sighed, pushing herself away from the counter and turning around to the coffee warmer. Linda hated the customers using that nickname. She cringed at the way they stared at her, mentally ripping off her short, clinging white cotton uniform and fucking her. The blonde hated everything about her present situation. But there was nothing she could do.

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