Sorry for the delay on this chapter. As always, I hope you enjoy!
*****
A few hours after we performed on the phone for Jenna, I took Claire home. We had watched a movie, cuddling contentedly on the couch, talking idly about the plot, the plot holes, and whatever else popped into our heads. Claire had a family thing the next day, Sunday, so I didn't see her again until Monday evening, when we were both scheduled to work.
I was in the back, digging through a fresh shipment of boxes, looking for KISS bobbleheads and swearing quietly as I knocked over a box full of funny but crappily-made tshirts when one small hand covered my eyes and another pinched my ass.
"Guess who!" I heard in Claire's soft, sweet voice.
"I deeply, desperately hope it's not Pam," I answered. My answer earned me a giggle and a swat across my butt. Pam was our manager, and she was at least sixty years old and a hundred pounds overweight.
I turned and drank in the sight of Claire in her work polo and a pair of tight jeans, her hands on her hips, her long blonde hair hanging straight and framing her smiling face. I slipped my fingers into the waistband of those hugging jeans and pulled her toward me, getting a squeal and a laugh as our lips met and our tongues glided across each other.
"If Pam catches us, we're both fired," Claire whispered against my lips.
"Nah," I said, feeling her smile on my mouth. "If Pam catches us, you're fired. She totally wants me."
That got me another smack, this time on my shoulder. I pulled her lips back to mine, and felt her smacking hand grip my shoulder tightly, her fingers clawing gently as she moaned into my mouth. My hand slipped down her back, edging under the waistband of her jeans and gripping her bare ass, squeezing the soft, warm flesh.
"Jesus you make me horny," she gasped. "Every time I see you I want to rip your clothes off."
"So you're telling me that our work productivity is about to take a nosedive?" I asked.
"Probably," Claire replied with a giggle.
Our shift went surprisingly quickly, our newfound ability to actually talk to one another helping it not drag by. Even the few little rushes of customers went more smoothly than usual after we discovered that communication really does come in handy. We laughed and joked with each other in between flirty comments and just-shy-of-inappropriate lingering touches. As the shift came to a close, Claire found me stocking novelty coffee mugs and, with a quick glance over her shoulder to check for an encroaching Pam, slipped her arms around my waist from behind.
"So," she began conversationally, "I take the bus to work after school, so I need a ride home. I was thinking I could walk along the highway with my thumb out, but if you're interested I thought maybe you could take me. And that maybe we could swing by your place real quick before you drop me off." As she finished, Claire's hands dropped lower, sliding down my stomach to give my cock a quick squeeze.
"Well, I had planned to drive up and down the streets looking for young, impressionable hitchhikers anyway, but that idea simplifies the process," I replied, reaching an arm behind me and running my finger heavily up and down the seam that was pressed tightly to her pussy.
"I was hoping you would say something like that," she breathed in my ear. Her arms suddenly disappeared from around me as she moved away, headed back into the back to collect her stuff and clock out. I gave myself a few minutes to catch my breath and finish shoving coffee mugs onto the shelf before adjusting my cock and following.
In the parking lot, I opened her door for her, and Claire smiled at me sweetly, blowing me a quick kiss as she climbed into my car. I jumped in to the driver's side and started the engine, looking down and grinning as she slid across the seat and nestled herself under my arm, pulling my hand around her shoulders. My fingers lazily traced circles around her stiff little nipple as I guided the car out of the parking lot and onto the street, accelerating toward my apartment as quickly as I could without having a cop interrupt our drive.
While I drove, Claire sank lower in the seat, her fingers dropping into my lap and scratching lightly across the length of my denim-covered cock. I let my hand slide down her side, caressing through the soft cotton of her work shirt as I walked my fingers lower, slowly gathering the fabric as I went until my fingertips brushed against smooth, warm skin. My fingers trailed across, following the shape of her hip bone until they bumped into the waist of her jeans, then following that hem across her belly, dipping just underneath until I reached the button. I popped it open, flicking the tab of the zipper upward, and tugging, hearing the buzz as her fly opened and I slipped my hand lower, tracing the gentle swell of her mound.
"Mmm," she moaned as my fingers brushed against her lips, her legs spreading wide, stretching the crotch of her jeans between them, giving my fingers more room to work as I gently ran the tip of my index finger across her clit.
"You didn't wear panties," I observed belatedly.
"I was kinda hoping something like this might happen," she confessed, her breath heavy and quick through her words.
"Oh, really?" I asked. I curled my middle finger inward, slipping effortlessly between her soaked and swollen lips. Claire cried out softly as my finger dove into her, hunching her hips against my hand, driving her clit into my palm as she tried to force my finger more deeply into herself.
"Yes," she whispered. I plunged my finger as far into her dripping pussy as I could reach and curled it toward my palm, scratching my fingertip across her g-spot, trying to pull an orgasm out of her. She reacted immediately, her back arching, pushing her breasts upward, driving her head into my lap, her cheek against my denim-covered cock. Her pussy clung to my finger and pulsed, sucking at my fingertip and convulsing, pushing her wetness into my hand as I turned the last corner into the parking lot of my building and pulled into my space.
"Inside," I said, half question and half order, as I tugged my hand out of her pants and popped open the door.
"Fuck yes," she breathed. Claire did a fast sit-up and tugged her work shirt down, hiding her open jeans rather than doing them back up, and she scooted out the door and under my arm.
She reached across me, snagged my keys, and took off at a run. I followed behind, laughing as I jogged after her, enjoying the sight of her ass as she ran ahead and disappeared into my building.
She was already up the first flight of stairs by the time I got in the door, and a few seconds later I heard the keys go into my door and the door being flung open. When I rounded the corner and reached my doorway, I found a trail of clothes that led across my living room floor to Claire, standing naked and proud on my coffee table, her hand on her cocked hips, hair hanging down to brush just above her nipples, her smoothly shaven pussy blushing and ready. She was just over five feet of lust and sexuality, and she was waiting for me.
