I sat down in a booth at work, after a long day of labor. The restaurant was quiet, as nearly everyone had gone home. I had let my fellow dishwashers go home already, and had done the final tasks by myself. It was almost ten at night.
“Hey, how are you?”
Heather was nineteen, like myself, and had been a waitress almost as long as I had been a dishwasher. We had gone to high school together as well, but hadn’t talked mush; she hung out with a more adventurous (“dirty” she would call them) crowd. I was my usual repressed self. But we had grown close in the last few years, working together, and I was always happy to talk to her.
“Where’d everyone go?” I asked.
“They’re gone smoking up.”
“Hmm. No need to invite me.”
“You don’t fit into the stoner crowd anyway.”
And so it went. We began to talk about everything imaginable, beginning with our personal narcotics histories, into our friends, and into relationships. All the while I stared at her, which was not hard seeing as how she was only five four. Heather was quite thin, barely over one hundred pounds, and had soft brown hair, pulled into a ponytail. Her eyes were blue, wide, and hypnotic. Her face was the perky type, where even if she frowned, it looked too cute to bear.
“Honestly, I haven’t been looking for a new relationship since then,” I said, concluding my tragic relationship tale.
“Wow, I can’t go without one. Nobody’s been that satisfying lately, though.”
“No sex?”
“Not really that, but… it sounds stupid… he doesn’t kiss me enough.”
“Serious?”
“Yeah, I love kisses,” she said with a rapturous smile, “you can have all the fucking in the world, but kisses are the best, hands down. It’s so simple, and warm… it’s nice.” She burst into laughter.
“If I was your boyfriend, I’d kiss you every minute,” I said smiling.
“Thought you didn’t want a girlfriend.”
“It’s just a thought!”
“You,” she smirked, “you as my boyfriend. That’d be a trip.”
“Hey, I think it’d be kind of cool. Being just friends for a long time and then falling totally for each other. That would be really neat, actually.”
“Neat. Good word. I’ve never gone out with a guy I’ve known; I have to pick a guy out of thin air. That’s how I work.”
“Aw come on Heather… I’d kiss you all the time…”
“I’d think about it,” she said, smiling teasingly, “I’d think about it if you kissed me a lot.”
“How much?”
“I’ve been dry for so long… you’d have to kiss me for an hour. An hour straight.”
“I can do that.”
“Ha! Imagine that. I’d die, I’d fucking die after an hour of kissing, it’d be so awesome.”
I looked around for a second. The boss had gone home; we’d have to lock up.
“Fine. Let’s go,” I said with a rush of excitement. I try not to get my hopes up too far, but…
“You ass…” she began. And before she could think of anything witty to say, I had absorbed the full power of her glowing smile, and her radiant eyes. I pulled her close and kissed her very gently on the cheek.
“Oh… that’s so nice…” she muttered out. But I kissed her again before she could speak any more. And I kissed her again and again, all over her cheek. The first minute was the worst, as I had no idea what she would do. But my fears of her recoiling in horror subsided, as I felt as the tenseness drain from her body, and she melted into my arms.
My lips moved up from her cheeks and to her forehead. Her hair smelled like peaches. And as I softly worked my way down her face, I was delighted to feel warmth on my chin. Heather was softly kissing me back. So I kissed farther down. She giggled as I kissed her nose, which made her kisses much harder. And in a second my lips met those of that girl whom I had know for years and years. We savored our first kiss together, like seventh graders at a school dance. We smooched more and more, quick little pecks, teasing and joking. Before long, I felt the soft wisp of her tongue in my mouth. I kept kissing quickly, allowing her to tease me, tempt me. And then I kissed her deeply, exploring every glorious inch of her mouth, slowly and strongly. I was delighted when she slammed her mouth shut on my tongue, and sucked roughly. She would relent soon, and I would envelop her tongue in my mouth as well. This long, romantic kiss lasted for what seemed like forever, but a quick glance at my watch showed only fifteen minutes having passed.
We returned to showering each other’s faces with kisses. Heather had been nearly silent for a while, but she grunted (even her grunts were cute) as she kicked one of her dress shoes off, I presumed to increase her comfort. I helped, with the arm I was not holding her with, to remove the other. She wore tiny white ankle socks. I rubbed them; they were so soft and woolly. I teased the inch of flesh above her sock and below the lip of her black jeans (required uniform), and she began to hum in pleasure. She tossed her legs over my lap, and scrunched closer to me. We now sat in the booth, her back against the wall, my arm around her back, her legs curled in my lap, and us kissing and kissing. I softly began to rub her feet, and she groaned in joy. So I massaged her socked feet with my free arm, and her kissed grew more and more intense. Every so often, we would stop and look at each other, all flushed, and quickly return to kissing, smiling like fools the whole time.
Thirty minutes in, we met in another long wet kiss. This time I slipped the hand around her up the back of her shirt, and began to rub her back with the tips of my fingers. Her flesh was so smooth and soft, like a baby. I rubbed all the way up to her neck, even over her bra strap, and then down to the top of her jeans. This foot and back massage caused her to throw both of her arms around my neck as she kissed me more and more fiercely. I began to dip my fingers into her pants, feeling the silky smoothness of her panties, and teasing the tip of her ass crack. Our second French kiss was fifteen minutes long, with the two of us squeezed into a ball of pleasure.
At the forty-fifth minute, she pulled her tongue out of my mouth and pressed me down onto my back. My head hung a bit off the seat, and I had to bend my legs to fit my feet against the wall. She lay on top of me, curling her legs around my own, and running her fingers all over my chest, under my green T-shirt, all while kissing me. Her grin was overbearing. I rubbed her sides, first against her own green T-shirt, then under it. She was so fleshy for such a tiny girl. Sides inevitably turned to front, as I tickled her belly, and slowly massaged her breasts; her bra was lacy. She loved it, and we launched into our third, most intense wet kiss. Our tongues writhed and sparred; we didn’t care about slowness anymore. At the height of the fun, my hands glided down slowly, and into the front of her jeans. She was wet, all sticky and sweaty. I slowly explored, and began to rub her pussy lips as best I could; her jeans were tight. And our kiss ended far too quickly this time. I looked at my watch, and eased her up.
“There you go Heather. One hour.”
She was sweating, and panting. She sat up, and scuffled up unto my stomach. She smiled affectionately at me, and began to rub her wonderful little feet up and down my cheeks.
“Sorry sweetie. There’s no way you’re leaving me now; not like this.”
She spun around, still on top of me, and began to untie my shoes. I had no desire to fight. She took them both off, and my socks as well. She spun around, and pulled off my shirt, gently massaging my bare chest. She then scooched up onto my chest, turned around again, and stripped off my pants and underwear with one scoop. I was more than happy to kick them off my legs for her.
“Wow,” she whispered, “You’ve got a nice dick.”
“It’s only seven inches, not that far above normal…”
“Oh it’s fucking nice…” she whispered. To my extraordinary delight, she began to stroke it slowly. My pre-cum drizzled up, and she wiped it off with her hand.
“So you’ve done me a favor,” she said, turning back around to me, “what can I do?”
My mind raced.
“Strip for me. Dance and strip on the table.”
“Oooh… are you going to jerk off while you watch me?”
“Oh Christ yes.”
