"Close. He's a big labor organizer here in Gilroy, hon. You don't cross Chris and get away with it," Max said, wiping his greasy hands on his stained white apron.

"Well, he hasn't come up against Linda yet," the blonde said under her breath, realizing that she might have bitten off more than she could chew. Her heart began to beat faster as she thought of that big man and the look of hatred he flashed at her just before he walked out of the diner.

"I don't care," Linda shrugged. "I'm sick and tired of these guys thinking that they can throw me into the back seat of their rigs any time they want to. I'm not some cheap slut!"

"Hey, take it easy, babe," Max said, walking up behind her and putting his big hands lightly on her arms. Linda knew that he meant that move just to be a comforting one. But now for some reason, the blonde was responding to Max in a way she'd never done before. Linda kept wiping the counter. But now her mind was on a sharp tingle that toyed with her gradually swelling clit.

"I-I can't help it. I'm so sick and tired of all of this, Max. I could die," Linda confessed, stopping her wiping and hanging her head down.

"Hey, don't cry on me," Max said, obviously bothered by the blonde's sudden confession.

"You don't know what it is to live like this," Linda kept on, feeling that tingle turn into an itch that started triggering the oozing of her love juices. "I've tried to keep going after Jack's death. But, Jesus Christ, how much more of this can I take?"

Linda said, pulling away from Max's gentle grip and covering her flushed face with both bands.

As the blonde started to walk to the other end of the counter, she could feel her thick pink panties clinging to her crotch. They were damp and sticky, soaked through by the cunt juice that trickled through her blonde pussy hairs. Linda wiped away her tears and tried to regain her composure. Could Max smell it? If the truckers were in here, they'd be baying like wolves in heat. They could smell a hot, swampy box ten miles away.