She shrugged and checked for last drinks before closing time. The old man was on his feet, reeling toward the door. The halfway drunk couple still had their glasses nearly full, enough to last them the ten minutes remaining. Donna picked up her tray and walked back among the tables.

As she approached the table in the corner, she flipped her flowing blonde hair forward over her shoulders and smiled.

"How 'bout it, fellas? Last call."

The skinny man she knew as Bill said, "Guess I'm okay, Donna."

Tony looked up. "I'll have another."

There was a big wet spot on their table. Donna set her tray down, slipped clean coasters under their glasses, and took a napkin and mopped at the spilled drink.

Like lightning, Tony's hands darted up her dress, grabbed the elastic of her panties, snatched them down to her knees and let them fall around her ankles.

Donna was too startled by his speed to react. She kept smiling as she finished wiping the wet spot. Then she stepped out of the nylon cloth and kicked her panties under the table.

"One more, coming up," she said as she turned and started back toward the bar.

All the way to the bar, she wondered if she was doing the smart thing. She could have taken her drink tray and bashed Tony over the head with it. It would serve him right, but maybe it would be over-reacting.

She mixed the drink, took it on the tray back to the table and set it down, standing as far back as she could and still reach the table. While she picked up the empty glass, Tony's hands moved like lightning again.

One hand grabbed her asscheek under her dress and pulled her toward him. She took a step to regain her balance, her feet now spread wide. His other hand went up her dress to her crotch, rubbing over her cunthair.