Elite: Aunt Cass — Hooters Hottest Honey (392 photos) (Patreon)

Many years before, Aunt Cass was simply "Cass"—a wild and free spirit with none of the pressures of running her own café or caring for her sister's son. She was the best waitress at the San Fransokyo Hooters: lightning fast, always fun, and inherently flirty.

It was Saturday lunchtime, the busiest shift of the week. She smiled as she clocked in, her uniform immaculate and stretched taut over her ample bosom and curves. "The customers don't stand a chance," she thought to herself. Blazing between tables, she scored massive tips and drew long gazes from her patrons. One patron in particular was enraptured by her more than any other.

He bumped right into her as she came out of the back, drink in hand. They both fell on their butts and stared at each other incredulously until they both laughed, the sweet melody of her voice hitting him like a truck.

"Well?" Her voice had a teasing tone. She knew he was spellbound, but she wasn't going to call him out on it directly.

"Um..." He gave her a blank look.

She smirked. "You gonna help me up?" It was a light, playful invitation to a complete stranger.

He stood and extended his hand to help her up. Her uniform shirt was wet from the drink she had been holding, the damp material clinging closely. "Oh dear... looks like I'm gonna have to change." She gave him a quick wink, and he nearly died right there. Who was this woman? So casual in her approach, so free of inhibition. He didn't get to ask before she blazed straight into the staff area, but he had to know.

He took a quick glance around and took a deep breath. The coast was clear. He cracked open the door, fully expecting her to be enraged, but that was when she yanked him inside and flicked the lock.

"What do we have here? A naughty peeping tom?" She stood with her hand on her hip—a simple gesture, but effortlessly confident when she did it, and quintessentially Cass. He finally registered her missing uniform shirt and playful smirk, taking the signal by catching her waist and spinning her back against the wall. He had come to the restaurant for the hot sauce, but he left with the aftertaste of a completely different kind of heat.

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