Amber was standing at the bus stop across from the diner, waiting for the route 832 bus to Red Bank, when he pulled up and motioned for her to hop in. She hadn't seen him in a couple of weeks but she gladly opened the door and climbed in; the cool of the air conditioning in his Mercedes was a big relief, even though she had only been standing there for less than five minutes in the 95Λ heat. But her old Pontiac had given up the ghost toward the end of winter, and since her boyfriend had packed up and moved out right before Thanksgiving the previous year she hadn't been able to replace it, so she had to rely on the bus to get back and forth to work - and everywhere else, for that matter - unless one of her friends offered her a ride.
"Would you like to come in for a while?" she said with a smile when he pulled up in front of her well-kept apartment on Wallace Street, and so he shut the car off and followed her through the door and up the stairs to the second floor. The apartment only had three rooms - a living room at the front, a single bedroom in the middle, and a kitchen at the back - but it was nice and airy, and when she walked through the apartment and turned all three window units on it cooled down quickly. She left her shoes in the bedroom on the way back to the front and sat down next to him on the couch, tucking her feet underneath her.
"Rough day?" he said, and she nodded.
"No more so than usual, really. Demetrios was short-handed in the kitchen so he actually had to do some work and couldn't bother us girls too badly. That meant Callidora had to handle the register, though, and she'd rather just take care of the bar - not that she had to make very many drinks today, just one Bloody Mary at breakfast and a half dozen drinks at lunch, plus the ones she made for herself when her husband wasn't looking. But she was griping about it."
He put his arm around her and pulled her closer, and she sighed contentedly. The first time he had done that, right after the new year, she was repulsed by it, and when his fingers slipped down to her thigh and up under the hem of her skirt she wanted to scream, but it had been six weeks and she was so desperately in need of a man's touch that she let him. The next time she saw him it was easier, and now she looked forward to it, for he was the best lover she had ever had. It wasn't long until she felt his hand untying the bow on her skirt and then his fingers running up and down her thighs, teasing at her garters for a moment until he turned her to face him and began unbuttoning her blouse.
Now his fingers were running over the smooth satin of her panties, reaching behind her and gently squeezing her as he stood up and pulled her to her feet with him. She arched her back as his tongue found the base of her neck and his teeth rubbed on her skin; she could feel his erection pressing against her through his trousers. She turned, gathering up her skirt from where it lay on the couch, and led him to the bedroom, where he finished removing her blouse and unhooked her bra, letting her breasts out of their fabric prison to where he could cup them in his hands and bring them, one by one, to his mouth. Now it was her turn; she removed his tie and unbuttoned his shirt before sliding his suspenders off his shoulders and tugging his shirt and undershirt free of the waistband of his pants.
He pulled her up and close to him again, nibbling on her neck as she squealed with delight, before slipping off his shoes and allowing her to unhook his slacks and let them fall to the floor, where she knelt in front of him to remove his socks. Standing up, she slid his boxers down until they joined his trousers, and then she let him slide her panties off so that she stood there in nothing but her garter belt and stockings. As he did so he stroked her pussy gently; "I think you need a shave," he said, and she stood there until he returned with a fresh bath towel from the linen closet and spread it out across the bed.
