“You cannot pay?” “Shut up. I have plan.” No one tells me to shut up, so my mouth kind of drops open before I start getting pissed off.”What, you have money to pay now? If not…” and with that, he zipped his fly down and fished out a fat, stumpy cock. He held it in his fist and looked down at it, then up at me, with the first, slight smile of the evening. Alright, this guy’s had his fun. I’m not going any further with this. What, he thinks I’m going to bend over and take it in the ass for a dry veal chop and some mashed potatoes?”No good. Different plan.”"Yes, dessert. Is here.” The chef takes the jaggedly ripped panties from his pocket, steps over to me, then wipes them the length of my pussy. We both look down at the panties, the pale pink of them darkened with my pussy juice in blotches. The chef brings them up to his nose, sniffs once, then tucks them back in his pocket. He taps his pocket, says, “Here. I not hungry now—have dessert later.” And he laughs.No one says anything. The waiter is smiling fiendishly, but the chef doesn’t move a muscle.I stand back up, grabbing my bra in my right hand. I put the straps over both shoulders before the chef grabs my left wrist. Not hard, but hard enough to seem serious.