Well, needless to say that after that night, things got... weird, but interesting.
Emery started to test me any chance she got and, sadly, it couldn't be really often. We were fucking swamped most of the time, and it seemed like it was an excuse for her to put me on fire and squeeze in a few of her tricks between two customers, without any slower preambles and subtleties.
Like, right after she would call out an order at me, she'd wink with a huge grin and walk away slapping her ass.
Even her little dances were becoming hot as fire. In time, I could only react by bursting out laughing in disbelief when she jiggled her ass and sang out loud in the kitchen, or when she skipped and spinned gleefully around the kitchen, making her big tits bounce and quiver inside her tight clothes. And every time she turned away, she'd shoot a quick look at my crotch, making sure her torrid dance moves, which I was the only one privileged to witness, gave me a hot throbbing boner.
And, was it me or even her wardrobe choices were getting racier? Just when I thought it wasn't possible, she started coming into work and surprised me with some outfits that just knocked the wind out of me! Like that one day, she had a sort of black fishnet top with a bralette underneath; or this other time that she had a simple white crop top. You could see her lace black bra because it was see-through.
At that point, the hottest one I remember had to be those denim short-legged overalls, with nothing up top but a white bra on! The suspenders were holding everything in place nicely, but they were still loose enough to allow me to easily take peeks at her tits throughout the day.
Damn...
And to make everything even more difficult to focus on, as if she knew about the mental exertion she was causing me, she came in to work for a whole week under a recurrent theme of wearing t-shirts from different bands that I happened to be really digging. Monday, Meshuggah. Tuesday, Taproot. Wednesday, White Stones. Thursday, The Dillinger Escape Plan. Friday, Fear Factory's Obsolete album, from 1998. Every day, I couldn't help myself. I would just start blabbering about metal with her like a complete nerd. It always ended in conversations that surprisingly had quite a good, natural flow.
Yup. We had a lot in common. She was making it harder and harder for me to hide that I was seriously getting the hots for her! On top of it all, though slightly ashamed to admit it, I was definitely feeling a growing need to have a go at those boobs of hers! Mmmmmhhh....
So despite this increasing on-shift camaraderie, Emery never let on that she'd be interested to meet outside of work. Our coffee breaks could never be lined up together, and with reason. Someone had to hold the fort. Days would just fly by, and at night, we went our separate ways.
Such was our life, working at Carlos' Roadside Diner.
I remember coming home one night, feeling this heavy dark cloud dawning over me. It was as if the frustration of being unable to come closer to Emery was now becoming more important than my whole disdain for this job. I was bummed out and really, really tired. I would keep her in my field of vision all day as we talked about the bands that were on her rock shirts. To me, these were always great conversation starters, and I always hoped it could develop into so much more, if we had the time.
And her racy outfits was the final blow, it was too much. She dressed this way and played so cool about it, allowing me to just stare on. She was so freaking hot. Her body was insane... Her tits...
This all sounded so easy, and very appealing. I should make a move and ask her on a date. Right? I mean, we had a few things in common, and I had a feeling she was just being very nice to me.
So... why was I here, standing in my living room, short of breath, feeling lost and helpless?
Shaking it off, I opted to call it a day and go straight to bed, after I jumped into the shower to wash the grease and all that feeling of disgust off of me.
As I stripped down, my cock came out with a twang. Fuck, I was still hard from thinking about her. Nice. I had to take care of that. This should get my mind off of a few certain things.
I jacked off in hot water, edging my orgasm for a good 20 minutes, as I watched my throbbing cock, and imagined it being in Emery's hand. I lathered it profusely with soap and thrusted my meat back and forth, picturing it being in Emery's cleavage, fucking those ripe and generous melons. All I wanted to do was to smother my face in them and drool like an animal.
I finally let go and exploded, splattering the shower walls, as a wave of goosebumps ran down my spine. I felt all this weight come off, as if I kept that tension in for way too long.
As I dried myself and came out of my steamy bathroom, I felt weak in the knees, with a lingering heat still inside me, which couldn't be caused by the hot water, anymore. That didn't look good...
Later that night, it turned out that I had this weird flu creeping over me, and fast. A tingle in the throat, a little fever, the typical symptoms. As a precaution, I wasted no time and I took all kinds of medicine and vitamins just to get rid of whatever I had.
I felt that I was going to have to call in sick tomorrow, but fortunately, I expected this to only last one day. I had a pretty strong immune system. Even if it meant lying around all day at home, playing video games, getting stone on Advil, I hated being sick. I knew that not only Carlos was going to feel lost without me, but I was going to pay the price to come in the day after and fix his mess. This meant that he was going to put Darcy on the grill. She had a bit of a background in cooking, but nothing to call home about.
This also meant that Emery was probably going to have to try her best and be patient with poor Darcy. Emery and I were a great team, after all. Her service was impeccable. But I was scared she would lose her temper at the replacement.
As expected, I got up the following day, hot and shivering, with the sound of my alarm that I had forgotten to turn off. It had been a long and painful night, filled with tossing and turning, going through feverish dreams of, yes work, but mostly Emery. And, also as expected, I got up with a severe case of morning wood. Holy fuck, I was rock hard, it almost hurt!
I called Carlos right away. After a short conversation, he mumbled something about putting Darcy on the grill, while keeping Emery at the front. I just nodded, rolling my eyes, and heard him mumble something until he figured out what to do, like a manager would. Good job, Carlos!
It was surreal. I just hung up with my boss and my dick was still darting right up. I felt like it was stuck in some kind of cramp. I took 2 more Advil and went back to bed, under the cover.
And I started nurturing this impressive erection.
Hhhmmmm... Emery. I'm dying to get a handful of those jugs. I wish I could fondle them like crazy from behind, as I rub my boner against the crack of your hot ass. Hmmmmm I'm stroking my cock slowly, thinking of you. You're so hot, I wish you were here in my bed right now. I'd stare at you all day, and you could just stay there and stare back at me as I stroke this cock. Hmmmmm and slowly, you could remove your clothes, little by little. Hmmmm I'm so fucking hard, Emery. You would undress, slowly, and finally show me your big titties. Yesss, they're driving me crazy.
I had been going for a while, now. I was getting very intense in my bed, moaning so fucking loud as I felt this other orgasm come, when suddenly, my phone rang.
It was work. Fuck. What did he want, this time? Can't he just run his business like he fucking owns it?
'Hello?' I said, clearing my throat.
'Hey, you.'
Emery.
'Hi... How did you get my n-'
'The schedule, dummy.' she interrupted.
'Oh... right. Sorry.'
All the staff contact info was on the schedule sheet.
'So, chucking a sickie, are you?' she said, laughing softly.
'Yes.'