Christina's Story

There was something about the way she looked at him, or didn’t, that drove him absolutely crazy. He was sure that she didn’t do it on purpose; at least it never seemed that she did. Ever since she’d been working for him, she seemed mildly intimidated whenever he was within four feet of her. It was one of the many things that made him want to explore her, to find out what she was about, who she was, and why she did what she did. However, any time he’d get close enough to suggest them meeting outside of work, she’d shy away and would hastily remove herself from his presence.

He walked into work that day, shaking from nerves. This was the day—this was going to be the moment that he took the initiative, that he stepped up to the role and said what needed to be said, no matter how intimidating he was or wasn’t. Work was buzzing with stories of the weekend. He greeted those that worked under him, those that worked for him. Being successful at 26 was one of his greatest accomplishments, but at 26 he was also very ready to share that success with someone, other than just his dog Chester. He was ready to settle down; ready to find someone he could have a family with, to find a woman to come home to, one that would wear his over-sized t-shirts with nothing else but a pair of her underwear.

He unlocked the front door and saw her reflection in the semi-tinted glass window of the dining business. His heart pounded within his chest. Every day his eyes beheld her and every day her beauty seemed to flourish more over night. Her thick, dark hair was pulled into a loose ponytail at the nape of her neck. Single strands of hair fell around her face, framing it subtly. Her deep green-blue eyes always seemed to be holding back some sort of secret. He longed to look into them and learn what they were, to have her deepest desires transmitted into his eyes, to feel every word she said pulse within his veins.

“Hey,” he said, leaning against the counter she stood behind.
She stopped tying the thick black ends of her apron, her hands behind her back as if she had something to hide. “H…hi…” she stuttered quietly. “Is something wrong?”
He shook his head gently. “Oh. No, no, not at all,” he reassured, smiling naturally.

“Okay. Good.” Her eyes darted around quickly. “Okay bye,” she added quickly as she turned on her heels and headed towards the back of the restaurant.
“Wait,” he demanded, reaching out and grabbing her arm. He stopped her and stepped in front of her, his hand still holding her wrist loosely. His light blue eyes stared into hers for a moment. She looked nervous, shaking underneath his grip a little. He let go and flashed a nervous grin. “Listen, I was just wondering if you’d like to go and grab a bite to eat after work or something. I mean, you could even come over and I’d cook. I’m pretty good at it.” He laughed. She responded to his joke with the giggle that he’d heard around the work place often. It set his stomach fluttering vaguely.
“Uh…”
“Please? It would really mean a lot to me.”

She bit the inside of her lip for a moment then nodded. “Yeah. Sure. That’d be great.”
He smiled and clasped his hands together excitedly. “Alright, good.” He scribbled his address down on a piece of paper and handed to her. “Around 7?”
She nodded again, tucked the folded paper into the back pocket of her dress pants and pushed past him. The door of his establishment pushed open, signaling that it was time to put the evening behind him and focus at the mission at hand.

*****

Between making sure everything was perfect on the table, preparing dinner, and checking the clock on the wall repeatedly, he was a nervous wreck. Although he was wearing a comfortable, light blue dress shirt and khaki’s, it felt as though he was wearing full body armor. As the minute hand ticked past the five, he began to question if she was ever going to show up. He wasn’t exactly prepared to eat the full meal he had prepared by himself. Chester growled from behind the couch, almost as a reassurance that, if worse came to worse, he would accompany his master in devouring the food that had been teasing his nose for the last hour.

Finally, at ten after, there was a soft, almost unheard knock at the front door. He wiped his sweating palms on the legs of his pants before opening it. Immediately, the beauty standing on the front door took his breath away. She had let her hair down, the tips curling under. She was wearing a nearly unnoticeable amount of makeup, and looked flawless, almost like a painting. He knew that she was attractive, but standing here, under the illumination of the porch light, that prettiness was surpassed beyond his wildest dreams. She was indescribably stunning.
“I got lost,” she admitted modestly. They smiled at each other before he stepped aside, allowing her to pass through the doorway.

“It’s understandable. It’s kind of in a difficult location. Can I take your jacket?” he asked as she slid her jean-jacket off her slender arms. The straps of the reserved evening dress she wore rested on her soft shoulders. The fabric of the dress clung to her adult body in all the right places.
“It smells great in here. What’d you make?” she asked, sitting on the edge of the couch. Chester growled from somewhere within the over-sized living room.
“A fresh garden salad, chicken, garlic bread. Nothing too extreme,” he admitted.
“Not for a chef at least,” she joked. She half-smiled at him.
He smiled back. “You ready to eat?”
She nodded. “Absolutely. I’m starving,” she confessed.
They sat at the table and divided the food amongst themselves. She seemed less shy than at work, as if stepping inside his house let her true character out. She was funny, and surprisingly she was easy to talk to. She was incredibly intelligent. The dinner conversation was never ending. They shared stories of the past, of their families, of their hopes, dreams, and aspirations. The shy, intimated woman that he admired from a distance at work seemed to transform once she slipped into her form-fitting dress.
“That was amazing,” she said, placing her dirtied dishes in the empty chrome sink next to his.
“Why, thank you. Not bad for a chef, eh?” he asked, nudging her as he sprayed the tableware of the remaining particles.
She laughed and shook her head. “Nope, not bad at all. I really appreciate you cooking tonight. It was well worth it.”
“Well worth what?” he asked, looking at her confused as he wiped his wet hands on a nearby towel. She smiled and shrugged as she walked into the living room. He watched as she lowered herself on to his couch and crossed her legs. “Well worth what?” he questioned again following her.

She pulled him onto the couch next to her by his hand. She sat up in front of him and placed her face inches from his, their noses almost touching. “Worth having to fight my desire for you,” she replied in a sultry whisper before pressing her lips to his aggressively.
For a moment he was taken back. He never expected that such passionate, forceful kisses could come from such an introverted, small girl. He was not, however, going to complain. Her lips were soft, supple, and full. They were better than he had imagined in his wildest dreams. He returned the zealous endearment. The kissed as if they were lovers from a past life, finding each other after years of separation. He ran his fingers through her hair, and pressed himself closer to her. Her body felt comfortable next to his, as if he were a key and she was a lock that he was designed specifically for.

“I want you,” she whispered between their kisses. “So bad.”

Without severing the tie between their lips, he laid her on the sofa and settled his body to the left of her clamped legs. He ran his fingertips down her neck, between her breasts, and over down her stomach. The fabric of her dress felt cold under his fingertips. She sighed quietly under his touch and arched her back in order to meet his fingertips, her dress shifting on her stomach with her subtle movements. He ran his hand down her leg, then back up it, forcing them to part slightly. Like a magician, his hand vanished between her legs before they locked again. He ran his first finger up the crotch of her thin panties, feeling the wetness already dewing them. He felt her squirm, pressing her pelvis forward absently. His hand continued upwards towards her chest as she undid his belt buckle. He cupped her breasts, surprised by the handful plus some that she hid beneath her waitressing clothing.

While his hand remained hidden and switched between the two, running his thumb over each nipple until they stood at attention, she removed the garment that covered her slender body. He admired her body and traced the outlines of her curves. She watched him the entire time, her fingertips dancing up and down his arms gently as his hands crawled around her chest, down her sides, and over her hips. “You’re beautiful,” he finally whispered, looking at into her eyes.
She smiled slightly, the shy waitress returning for a moment. “I can tell that you mean that. Most men just say it for the effect, in order to get into my pants.”
He brushed his lips across her lightly, barely touching them. “I’m not saying anything to get into your pants. Besides, you’re not wearing any.”

She laughed and punched him playfully, then looked at him seductively. “If I was, would you want in them?” He nodded and kissed her again. She licked the outside of his ear with the tip of her tongue and whispered, “What if I said I wanted you inside of me?”
“Then I would be honored to oblige those wishes,” he whispered back, kissing her neck afterwards. She cooed, resting her hands on the back of his neck. His lips continued to pleasure her neck as she began to grind her pelvis against his slightly. She could feel his penis hardening against the crotch of his slacks, as if fighting to be free. She assisted them as his lips sought hers again, undoing his pants and kicking them off with her feet. She followed suit with his shirt, pushing each button thr0ugh its slot until the two sides opened, revealing a fit, defined torso. She ran her hands down his neck, down his chest, and over his abs, eyeing her path.

She slid his shirt off his arms, running her fingertips up and down his back, feeling his muscular body beneath her fingers. “You’re perfect, even more perfect than you think I am. Now stop stalling,” she paused, taking his hands in hers. She hooked his fingers around the band of her panties and pushed them down slightly. He responded the way she wanted as she lifted her legs towards the air. She pulled one after the other back as her panties came off. Her feet danced over his shoulders, down his stomach and rested back on the couch. She sighed happily, responding to his touch as he drug the tips of his nails down her legs and kissed her thighs, his lips lingering faintly on each one. She ran her fingers through his hair as he neared her most sacred area, the one place she’d imagined him going but never thought possible.
He was surprised to see that she was trimmed, compared to the shaved that he was use to. Yet, in some odd way it turned him on. She pressed herself closer to him, meeting him half way. He was prepared to show her body the extreme pleasure she was asking for, the pleasure they had both dreamed of from the other since she’d began working there.

Her fingers played with the ends of his hair as she moaned calmly, his tongue stroking her clit. His pace was even, his tongue a tool of sheer delight. He made small circles around the area, went up and down, back and forth, alternating speeds, techniques. Each slight change of his tongue brought a new moan, a new sigh, from within the Greek goddess. She throbbed gratefully in his mouth. She whispered his name over and over again as he breathing hastened, as the feeling of erotic torture overtook her stimulated body. She needed to feel him inside of her; he needed to feel himself in her.

She removed his boxers as he settled himself between her trembling, outstretched legs. She ran her fingertips up the shaft of his large, hard cock. She hadn’t known what to expect, but she was satisfied with the size of his dick. She took him in her hands and locked eyes with the man hovering over her. She kissed him gently as she used the head of his dick to trace around her swollen, wet clit. She slid the stimulated head between her lips, letting him feel how damp he made her. They sighed together as their lips fought the others. Slowly, she guided him inside of her. She was tight, and groaned slightly against his lips as he ventured deeper into her body, maneuvering in little by little until he filled her completely. Her body arched against his and she moaned loudly as he made his voyage gradually and teasingly through her. The nerves inside of her tingled as their body became one. Her muscles opened around him, accepting him, allowing him greater entrance. She received him fully, her pussy tight around his thick manhood.

Their bodies locked together in a passionate rhythm. He entered and exited her slowly at first, then increasingly faster. She was wet from his previous caresses, which allowed him to glide in and out of her with ease. Her gentle sighs turned into full moans the closer they inched to the end. The louder she got, the more excited he became, his already full penis filling her more and more. She adjusted her hips, raising them slightly, causing the head of his dick to hit her g-spot sporadically. The desire to cum was divided. The feeling was amazing, indescribable. The build up was steady. The orgasms promised to be just as promising as the rest of the evening had been.

He could feel her inner muscles contracting around him. Her shaped fingernails traced up and down on his hips as they rocked against her, thrusting him into her deeply each time. He wanted to fill every inch of her body; he wanted to please her, to make her feel as beautiful as she was. Finally, her fingers dug into his lower back, her body arched high against his as she came. He followed close behind, whispering her name in her ear. She shook against him as their moans of release melted together. He could feel the results of their passion combining inside of her. As her body quivering body relaxed against the couch, her breath shallow, he collapsed on top of her and burrowed his head in her neck, inhaling her natural innocence.

“Stay inside of me,” she whispered, running her fingers through his hair, as his lips traveled up and down her neck, coating her aroused flesh with ghostly kisses. He wrapped her in his arms like he had always wanted to do and kissed her romantically, his dick still buried inside of her. They didn’t say anything to each other. The y welcomed the silence, the beating of their synced hearts. She felt whole with him, he felt whole with her.

He kissed her forehead lovingly before she nestled herself against him, falling asleep to the beating of his heart. He followed suite soon after, drinking in the joy of her body close to his, of her presence in his life.