[PART I HERE](https://www.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/fnnc5w/fucking_my_waitress_with_pics_wut_a_story_in_4_or/)
[PART II HERE](https://www.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/fp0uph/fucking_my_waitress_on_a_wednesday_afternoon_part/)
[PART III HERE](https://www.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/fpgdgl/fucking_my_waitress_after_she_madeout_with_her/)
[Also Have A Gif](https://imgur.com/a/onTi49a)
I sat on my porch last fall watching the august moon slowly rise over the mountains to the east. The Harvest Moon. She had taught me the names of all the moons 3 years ago, weeks after we met, and days after we fucked for the first time, as we sat on a blanket in Southern Montana. We watched a fire and sipped mezcal at 3 am. It was early July then and the full moon was casting shadows across the valley, and coyotes were yipping somewhere distant, and the air smelled like sage and the dying heat of a summer day, and her naked hand was on my naked thigh as we sat cross-legged in front of each other.
“Alright Tommy,” we were both a little buzzed and tired and she looked up into the night sky, “what’s this moon?”
“The Buck!” I whispered in the sexiest way I knew how and then smiled.
“Fuck off fuck boi,” she giggled and took a sip of her mezcal, “and what’s next month’s moon?”