After Hours 36

We closed the kitchen at 10:30. The last patrons left around 11:15. The 4 remaining employees (kitchen staff and wait staff) began the tedious nightly cleanup. I wiped down the grill, wrapped the open food, disinfected the cutting surfaces .............do you really want to hear the details? I don't think so.

Emily and Jessica completed their tasks in the front, tables set, rug vacuumed, chairs in place.

"Goodnight, Carlo," they called back.

"Goodnight, my little chicadees. See you tomorrow."

They left by the back door.

Rachel continued to tidy up the Maitre D' area, while I put the finishing touches on the kitchen.

Let me say a few words about Rachel. I know little about her, except that she has a boyfriend, and lives not far from the restaurant in an apartment in a marginal part of town. I have had my eye on her since she came to work here about 4 months ago. She is, in a word, HOT. Although she dresses conservatively, I have from time to time caught a glimpse of her, backlit by the track lighting. She wears very skimpy thongs, colorful push up bras, and I can't swear to it, but one night I think she may not have been wearing panties at all. It's a good thing I was behind the griddle after that. It would have been embarrassing if anyone had seen my hard bulge.

I have made no moves on Rachel, and she appears to have no interest in me. I think I'm a reasonably good looking guy, but I'm not exactly a winner when I have grease running down my apron, and sweat pouring off my head.

"Hey, Rachel. How you doing?"

I heard footsteps coming back to the kitchen. She appeared at the door.

"I'm fine," Pause, hand on hip. "And I'm also good, or so I'm told."

She smiled at me seductively. I was speechless. In a million years I would not have expected flirtation from Rachel. She turned and walked away before I could say anything.

Now what? Was that a real come on, or was she pulling my chain? Only one way to find out. I peaked around the door. She had her back to me, and was meticulously sorting the flatware. I turned, removed my apron, wiped my greasy head, washed my hands, ran to the bathroom, brushed my teeth, and peed. All of this took less than 1 minute (it's amazing how motivated a man becomes when the possibility of sex is in the air).

I peaked again, and Rachel was still sorting flatware, taking her sweet time about it. Usually the girls want to get out as quickly as possible, but Rachel seemed in no rush. I walked softly toward her. When I reached her, I touched her neck with my thumb and finger, so softly that she might not even have known I was there. She shuddered almost imperceptibly. I left my hand where it was, and she did not turn around, and she did not say anything. I reached my other hand out and touched her waist, the silky feel of the dress allowing me to slide my hand up and down. Rachel continued to sort flatware, silently. Little did she know that this sort of pretend scenario is my fondest fantasy. That she should find it appealing was making my brain explode.

I closed in on her from behind, and pushed my body against hers. I already had a raging hard-on, which she could not have failed to notice. I didn't want to push things too fast. I just love the tease.

She pushed back against me, rubbing her ass where it counts, but so slowly that I could have cum right on the spot. I felt a moan in my throat, but I suppressed it. I reached around her with both arms, and pulled her tight against me. She touched my hands with hers, and uttered a tiny whimper.

The longer we went without talking, the more excited I got. And it was pretty clear that she was having the same reaction.

I nuzzled my nose in her hair. Even after a long evening of waiting table, her hair was soft, and smelled delightful. I inhaled deeply. She took one of my hands and placed it on her breast. I could feel the bra inside, and I was pretty sure that was an erect nipple pushing back at me.

Rachel took both of my hands, pushed them down, and pushed me back away from her. I wanted to protest, but I knew that talking would spoil everything. I stood there. She stood there, still facing away from me. I could see from her arm movements that she was undoing the buttons on the front of her dress. She slowly dropped the shoulders, then dropped the dress to her waist. I could see the lavender bra, a wholly cotton affair with no clasps. Her back was creamy, the area where her waist widened to her hips oh so enticing.

She stood still for a moment, then dropped the dress to the floor. She was wearing no panties!!! Holy shit, I wanted to push her down right there and fuck her brains out. But I controlled myself. She did NOT turn around. She reached back with her hands and motioned for me to come closer. I didn't have to be beckoned twice.

I moved up against her again, my cock pushing hard against the crack of her sweet ass. She rubbed that crack up and down, and then reached behind to touch my cock. She had magic hands, even with my clothes still on. Then she unzipped me, reached inside, and began to play with my hard-on. Through my boxers, no less. Not actually touching my cock with her hands, but rubbing the silk along the shaft. What an amazing tease she was.

She reached around with her other hand, and using both hands, undid my belt, and the clasp. My pants dropped to the floor. I pushed my shoes off with each foot, and kicked the shoes and the pants away. My cock instantly popped out of the front of my boxers. I pushed it up against her nakedness. She lifted herself up on her toes, and opened her legs enough for me to slip my cock under her ass and out the front. She was sopping wet. I slid back and forth while she began to arch her back. I could feel my cock parting her wet lips a little at a time, until I was actually touching her clit with my glans on the forward thrust. She was no longer whimpering, she was moaning. She put her arms around my back, and pulled hard. She moved to one side, pulling me with her. We walked in this awkward manner to the nearest table. She released her hands, and bent over the table. She raised her ass the way Monkeys do when they are in heat. I was sure I had died and gone to heaven, and gotten my reward for being such a good chef all these years.

So far not a word had been uttered, and I liked it just that way. Rachel spread her legs, and I entered her pussy from behind. She let out a yelp. I moved ever so slowly to prolong this dreamy experience. In and out I went, to the hilt, then all the way out until just my glans was in her. I could not recall ever being with a woman who was so wet with excitement. I reached under her to tweak her clit. Another yelp. She reached under herself to rub her nipples, through her bra. I continued to massage her clit, while slip sliding in and out of her. Her yelps were mixed with moans now, and her body was shuddering and writhing. I began to go in and out faster and faster. I was close to cumming, but I wanted her to cum first.

She pushed hard, back against me. She uttered a low scream, then a louder one. This was it. I jammed myself in deep, growled, and as she let out one last loud scream of ecstasy, we both came together. Her legs got weak, and she flattened herself on the table. I kept pumping while I stayed hard, and she just whimpered helplessly. We calmed down after a couple of minutes, me still inside her, but getting smaller and softer.

I would have wanted to stay that way for an hour, but it was not all that comfortable a position. I pulled out. Rachel stayed on the table for about a half minute, then slowly pushed herself up to standing. She never turned around, so I couldn't see her face. She walked over to her dress and bent over to pick it up. She then walked to the bathroom, doubtless to clean up.

I wiped off my cock, put it back in my boxers, put my pants and shoes back on, and waited. A moment later a fully clothed Rachel emerged from the bathroom. She gave me a brief smile, grabbed her coat, and exited the rear door, leaving me wondering what had happened, why, and if I could dare to hope that it would happen again.