Im Dating Our Mailgirl Ch 02

This story is a continuation of I'm Dating our Mailgirl Chap. 01. That story should be read first for context.

*****

I was looking forward to meeting 9 after work on Thursday. I couldn't wait until 8:30 to meet her at the Loading Dock. I had been anxious the night before worried about what might be happening to her on the 42nd floor. I wasn't going to bring that up because I knew how sensitive she would be to discussing all the degrading things she might have been subjected to; but I thought she might have opened up enough to tell me.

She walked in promptly at 8:30 looking stunningly beautiful in her plain cotton dress, the "other" one from her limited wardrobe. I wanted to embrace her and smother her in kisses but figured this wasn't an appropriate location to do that. Maybe later when I walked her back to the warehouse.

She sat down, tired and obviously agitated from an exhausting day making deliveries at Seahawk Industries. We spoke very little while she waited for the cheap beer she had ordered to come. I had ordered some potato skins and we shared them.

Finally, she started the conversation. "I'm really looking forward to seeing you Saturday night and spending the night with you." She grabbed my hand, squeezed it, she throatily whispered, "I can't wait to making your pussy come alive and to having you excite my . . ." she hesitated, "my cunt."

"It will be late Saturday by the time I pick you up and take you to my apartment. I thought I would fix us a light meal and then an evening of wild passionate love making." I smiled as I said it being careful to prevent anyone from overhearing us. "We can go out for a sumptuous brunch the next morning. And then I have a surprise for you. I'm taking you shopping so you have a basic wardrobe you can keep at my apartment."

9's reaction this time was quite different from her reaction last weekend to my suggestion about going shopping. Then it had saddened her as it just reminded her that she had no real need for clothing, but this time she was elated. But I wasn't sure if the elation was related to the natural feminine instinct to be joyful at the prospect of going shopping or if it was a realization that she was another step closer to becoming a permanent fixture at my apartment, "My" apartment was taking a step toward becoming "our" apartment.

We finished our drinks, 9 had a second beer, and we left for the warehouse. She grabbed my hand as soon as we got outside. When we came to the stop light of the one street between the Loading Dock and the warehouse, she grabbed me and kissed me passionately. Again, I accepted this PDA without protest and realized we were a couple and 9 was going to start making sure we acted like it in public. Quite a bold reaction from her previous cowering self-effacing persona.

I walked her through the gate and up to the door of the warehouse but did not enter. It was agreed I would come back to the Seahawk building on Saturday, wait for 9 in my car in my parking space at 8:30

WEEKEND TWO

Saturday night I was sitting in my car as agreed waiting for 9. Sure enough right at 8:30 9 came out of the garage elevator completely naked. I was appalled at her boldness. I sat there in stunned silence as she got into the car. She leaned over to kiss me. I didn't return her affection. "Are your ready?" she asked?

"Didn't you forget something?"

She played dumb. "No, what?"

"Where's your clothes?"

"I figured I really wouldn't need them this weekend, so I didn't wear any."

"Well for one, you needed some to walk from the 21st floor out here. And then walking from the car to my apartment. I told you I wanted to take you shopping. We talked about going to brunch again tomorrow morning. And then there's bringing you back home. You need clothes for all those things. You must have worn something to work this morning."

With mathematical precision, she responded to each of my concerns. "Who would see me in the building this late except the security guards and we learned last weekend they really wouldn't mind. I walk around naked all day so who would notice anything out of the ordinary. Last weekend I walked from your parking lot to your apartment; the people we ran into certainly didn't seem to mind my being naked. I can wear one of your outfits again to go shopping. And I'm going to have some new clothes to wear to brunch in the morning, And if you're going to be such a prude about it, I could wear one of my new outfits when you bring me back to the warehouse. I left what I wore to work this morning in my locker. I can take it back home Monday after work."

I had to admit, she did have an answer for everything. In one sense, I was outraged by her lack of concern about ordinary respect for others who may not want to be exposed to her naked body, but on another lever I was consoled by her innocence with her natural state of exposure and marveled at how they had again programmed out of her the last vestiges of any modesty and shame in being naked in public. I think she won this round. I just sat back and enjoyed her voluptuous body. I made sure I drove carefully so we would't be stopped by the police.

I parked in my parking space in the parking garage at the apartment. 9 jumped out of the car and walked toward the elevator. I was glad when we made it past the 5th floor without anyone getting into the elevator. It was still early enough in the evening that there was a good probability we would have run into someone. Sure enough the elevator stopped at the 8th floor. Two couples got in. One couple appeared to be maybe in their 30's and the others looked about 10 years older.

9 casually address them, "Good evening." They returned the greeting.

"You must be going to Ted and Jennifer's party up on the 19th floor." We looked at each other in complete ignorance.

"No, Monica was just taking me up to her apartment." She kissed me to let them know what would be happening later when we got to my apartment.

The older gentleman said, "You really should come to their party. Everyone would enjoy meeting you."

9 took the lead, "We really haven't been invited. Besides, I don't have a thing to wear." She broadly gestured by moving her hands down her entire body like a model showing off her wardrobe." They all laughed. So I guess we made it past that encounter. We were getting off the elevator at the 17th floor.

"Well, we'll be in 1908 if you change your mind. We'd love to see more of you."

9 smiled. "How could you possible see any more of us." Five people chuckled. I was not amused. "The next party, send us an invitation. We live in 1704." I let the "we" live in 1704 slide for the moment.

"Great, what's your name?

"This is Monica," she said introducing me, "and I'm 9." She jabbed the black 9 on her arm. As we exited the elevator, as if to emphasize the point, she smiled and pointed to the 9 on her ass.

I opened the door to my apartment, we stepped inside and 9 again tried to give me a passionate kiss. "I wasn't amused by that little exhibition. Why did you give them my name?"

"Well, it is your name, and they were anxious you make your acquaintance."

"And WE live in 1704? WE? We don't live anywhere, I live in 1704 and YOU live in a warehouse." This weekend had not started out well at all. I had not wanted that to be the way it went. But lessons had to be learned.

"Monica, I'm sorry. Please don't be mad at me. I won't ever do anything like that again."

"Get inside. We have to get over this." 9 sat down on the couch. "I need a drink. Do you want a Dos Equis?"

"Yes, please, I really need one." I fixed myself a gin and bitter lemon and opened her beer bottle. I handed it to her, still with a touch of attitude in my gesture. We sat there in silence for a good five minutes.

Finally, I said, "I don't have anything special to prepare. I thought maybe some stir fried vegetables."

"Oh, that would be delightful. Thank you."

Would you prefer chicken, pork, beef or shrimp?"

"Can I have shrimp AND chicken?"

"I think I can arrange that." I was starting to soften up. "Come into the kitchen with me while I prepare it. Can you handle the Chinese noodles? They only take about half as long as the linguine since they'll be added to the veggies to finish cooking." I handed her her apron. "Let me smooth it out in the back." Of course, there was no back. I ran my hand down her back, her waist and her ass. I lingered on her ass. She smiled realizing I was now signaling the end of the pissed phase of our date and we were ready to start the enjoyable part of the rest of the weekend. We kissed, passionately.

"I'm sorry. I truly am," she whispered softly but passionately. "I'll never, never do anything like this again." I served the meal over the noodles she had prepared. We started eating. "Are we going to go clubbing later? I enjoyed that so much last week. I'm looking forward to doing it again."

I thought for a moment and decided to turn this into a teachable moment. "Three reasons why not. One, it's late. Two, we really should buy you a glam outfits of your own and we can't do that until tomorrow. Three, you did annoy me earlier. Maybe I don't need to punish you, but I don't think you should be rewarded. Not tonight." She lowered her head dejectedly.

"Can we go to Ted and Jennifer's?"

"Nine, those people just regard you as a freak act at a side show. You've got to start building your self esteem."

"I don't think you are giving them enough credit. I think they genuinely liked us and want to included us in their circle of friends."

"If you had been clothed, would they have liked you just as much?"

"I don't know, but," she laughed out loud, "we certainly wouldn't have had a good conversational icebreaker."

"So no partying tonight. But let's see what else develops."

"So what are we going to do?"

"You mean besides make mad passionate love?" I caressed her arm. She smiled and I allowed my hand to move to her neck, her jaw, her cheek, her ear, and then back to her breast. I sucked at her breast. She didn't try to remove my clothes but she did allow herself to return my kisses to my face.

I led her to the bedroom. I went over to my bureau and got out a night shirt, my armor. I stripped naked and then put on the shirt. "I showered just before I left to pick you up. I know you did the same. So I know we are both fresh." We spent the night making love and occasionally drifting off to sleep.

I didn't set the alarm clock. Based on last weekend, 9 seemed to have such a well regulated internal clock we didn't need it. Sure enough, I was awakened by her taking her morning toilet. Again the door was wide open. I irreverently wondered to myself, "What is going to happen first? Will she feel comfortable not displaying herself in such humiliating circumstances that she can close the door; or will I simply get use to the pungent fragrance of her shit." Shame on me for thinking such a thought.

I was still wearing my nightshirt. She had not removed it, nor had I. She just maneuvered it out of position last night so she could attack my cunt and my tits. I disrobed with no qualms about being naked in front of her and dressed. I put on some shorts appropriate for a nice brunch. I chose an accessorized top, a scarf and loafers. I picked out some loose-fitting culottes for 9 with a matching top, but I couldn't wait for us to start her wardrobe. She wanted to wear what she called her 'slave' sandals she was growing fond of.

We could walk to Dazzle for brunch. My Southern upbringing reared it's head and I pigged out at the grits and sausage stations. Nine went for the sweeter crepes and bacon. It was officially fall, but they had not switched to the hearty soups. I had the gazpacho. Nine went with the more ladylike cold vichyssoise.

"What's that?" She pointed to my grits.

"Grits."

"Oooouh. It reminds me too much of our gruel."

"I can't believe you've never been exposed to grits."

"I've never had a chance to eat them in Philadelphia and Minnesota."

MINNESOTA!! Another clue. Again I was afraid to frighten her by asking too many direct questions, but I figured I would risk it. "I guess you weren't in Minnesota when Prince died."

I had startled her. She realized she had given too much away. There was a period of silence, but finally she offered, "No, he died a couple of years after I graduated from Bryn Mawr." I couldn't remember when he died; he honestly wasn't that much of an icon for me. But I think I was still in my senior year at college. Simple extrapolation, 9 probably had a couple of years on me. That seemed about right.

"Are you ready to do some shopping?" She nodded her assent. "Are you sure you are up to it? You seemed to be depressed when I suggested it last week."

"I want to be seen in public with you. I want to go dancing. I want to take you to an art gallery. I want us to dine together. This is necessary."

"Let's go." I had already paid the bill. I grabbed her hand and we left. There were a couple of boutiques within walking distance. We went into the first one and they had some outstanding outfits that would have been great for a formal occasion or even a special event such as an art gallery opening. She picked out a pair of brown formal pants with a sexy white top with exposed shoulders Next we picked out a party glam outfit. It was sexy as 9 liked and it would show off her natural beauty. Then we picked out a pair of casual jeans and a cotton dress that was a bit fancier than those she wore to work. A pair of high heels to go with the formal pants and comfortable shoes for the nightclub.

We returned home. We stopped at Ruby Tuesday's on the way home and had a casual meal.

When we got back to the apartment, 9 said, "Monica, I don't have anywhere to put these in the warehouse. Besides, the only time I'll be wearing them is when I am here." I moved some things from my closet and gave her a good foot of space. She kissed me, "Thank you so very much."

She was starting to move in and make herself at home, but I guess I had no one to blame but myself. We made love once more but we still had plenty of time before I had to take her back to the warehouse. I got her a beer and fixed myself a glass of wine. "Alright 9, woman of mystery, what do you want to talk about."

"I don't have anything interesting to say."

"Sure you do. Tell me about the big party Wednesday night."

"I don't want to talk about it." She retreated into her shell like a frightened turtle. I was ready to drop the subject when she volunteered, "One of the men made 4 give him a blow job."

"What, that's an outrage."

"I hate to say it, but I think she enjoyed it. Whenever we have to work a party, we like to work with 4 because we know she will give head and keep the men from bothering the rest of us."

"What if they asked you to, you know, suck their dick?"

"I would have to do it. It's part of my job. It's understood."

"I can't let you continue to work under those conditions."

Her voice raised, "And what the hell can you do about it", she shouted.

"You're right. I guess you just have to keep from getting demerits. Let's talk about something more pleasant. Tell me the story of another famous painting."

"Sit at the computer. Google 'Le Déjeuner sur l'herbe' by Manet."

"It's been awhile since I took high school French. Can you spell it for me?"

She did so. Then a picture of a female nude and a scantily dressed female bather on a picnic with two fully dressed men in a rural setting came on the screen. The painting features a nude woman casually lunching with two fully dressed men. Her body is starkly lit and she stares directly at the viewer. The two fully clothed men, seem to be engaged in conversation, ignoring the woman. I could see where she could relate to this painting. In the background, a lightly clad woman bathes in a stream.

9 began the narration of a art scholar. "Manet often used real models and people he knew" The female nude is thought to be Victorine Meurent, the woman who became his favorite and frequently portrayed model, who later was the subject of Olympia."

I googled "Victorine Meurent, Manet" and there she was again, staring out at me, a completely naked woman reclining before her clothed maid.

She continued her lecture, "The male figure on the right was based on a combination of his two brothers, Eugène and Gustave Manet. The other man is based on his brother-in-law, Dutch sculptor Ferdinand Leenhoff. Some art historians irreverently refer to this scene as Manet's family portrait "

9 was clearly having a lot of fun describing this most famous clothed-male-nude-femald, or cmnf, painting to me. I was so delighted to see her so animated. I rewarded her giving me the lecture by finally eating her pussy one more time before we had to get her back to the warehouse. She returned the favor, but came up for air once. "Monica, would you considering doing a favor for me?"

"Sure, I'll consider it. What do you want me to do?"

"Would you shave your pussy for me? Or at least trim it up. I just don't like getting a mouthful of pubic hair."

"I'll have it done before the next time I see you."

At 11:45, when I told her we had to leave. she agreed without throwing any tantrums. I walked her into the warehouse and we embraced passionately before I had to leave. We were met with mocking hoots of approval from the other girls, but we both enjoyed the attention. We agreed to go to a bar Wednesday evening. I would work late and we would meet at my car in the parking lot at 8:15.

THE SHOW

All night Tuesday, I was really missing 9. I wanted to see her again before our evening out on Wednesday. I went into work early to see "The Show" in the locker room Wednesday morning. 9 knew nothing about me coming. Of course she couldn't see me on the other side of the mirror.

There were about 10 men in the room and two women besides me One woman who must have weighed 200 pounds and stood all of 5 feet tall, covered in tattoos, was at one end of the room. An attractive woman dressed in a business suit, probably in her late 30's came over next to me.

"I haven't seen you here for the show before."

"This is the 1st time I've come down here."

"I try to make it two or 3 times a week. 5 is my favorite. She really likes for the other girls to get her off."

The first one in the room was one of the food workers from food service. She brought in a stock pot and a ladle. There were two large dog bowls that she ladled gruel into and placed them on the floor. She put a couple of sporks next to the bowls.

Sure enough, at 6:45 the girls starting coming in. They slowly and sensuously disrobed. 9 was the 5th one in. Some of the girls undressed themselves, but some of them undressed each other. 9 undressed herself, but after she was naked and ready to step into the shower, 8 came over and started kissing her. She put up no resistance. 8 led her over to the shower where they soaped each other up. Eventually 8's fingers found their way to her cunt. 9 appeared to have climaxed and she shaved her arm pits, her pussy and her legs.

I found myself, not outraged nor jealous, but aroused by witching her. . . .them.

The woman in the business suit said, "Here comes 5. She looks like she's really going to put on a show." 5 did so; "Oh, man, they are hot this morning. I may have to lock my door and get out my vibrator. Do you, uh," she hesitated but clearly wanted to complete her lewd though, "do you want to join me?"

"No thank you, I'm good."

"Too bad. Let me know if you ever want to change your mind. As I say, you can usually catch me here 2 or 3 times a week."

The men were making some of the crudest, most grotesque, misogynistic remarks, laughing and carrying on. All of the girls went over to the bowls to get some gruel. 9 and some of the others sat on the floor and spooned the gruel into their mouths. There were only so many sporks and the rest of the girls were eating the gruel out of the bowls like a pack of dogs. At about 6:55 showtime ended and the girls all disbursed for their duties.