Note to my readers: This story is fiction, but is based on the experiences of a personal acquaintance of mine. It is my belief that every woman has a slut buried deep inside her. Some of us simply allow that slut it's voice. 'Kelly' has allowed me to let you experience her voice.
Also, I hope the shift in point-of-view from Kelly's to 3rd person narrative doesn't cause my readers problems. I think anyone can write an erotic story in one POV; I'm having some fun here. Bear with me...
"Hey. Kelly, is it? Wait a minute."
He reached across my desk and laid his hand against my cheek, his calloused fingers resting softly against my skin. His eyes held mine as he brushed against my upper lip lightly, once, twice; the third time a little more firmly.
"It's a mole," I said, annoyed and yet surprised at how difficult it was to form the words at that moment. His proximity had me spooked, but more than that; I was strangely aroused. I became aware of the thudding of my heart, and at the same time, of the fact that his eyes weren't just green. There were flecks of gold in there, too. I thought they were amazing eyes.
He said, so softly I almost didn't hear, "Ah. Beauty mark." It was a statement, and all I could do was react, nodding dumbly. Then his hand left my face, and I was like a diver bobbing to the surface after a leap off a really high cliff into deep, cold water. I blinked, literally, and drew a breath. He leaned back and grinned, his eyes never leaving mine. "It's a genuine beauty mark, then," he said, and winked. Oh my god, he winked! I think it was the only time I ever had a man wink at me. It flustered me momentarily, and then it made me angry.
"I think 'mole' is actually the correct description, Mr. ..." I scanned the application form, looking for his name, but my eyes weren't focusing properly and my thoughts were still disjointed, like a synapse in my brain had shorted out. I could still feel the sensation of his fingers against my cheek. I felt something else, as well. I was damp. My panties clung to my labia like a second skin, and I was certain he could smell me in the tiny office. I stood, and though I'm only slightly over five feet to his six, it was my feeble attempt to assume a position of power.
"Joiner," I said, finally remembering his last name. "And it's Mrs. Randolph," I said, my heart pounding in my chest. "Not Kelly." I waited for him to leave before taking a deep breath.
That was Kelly Randolph's first meeting with Danny Joiner. She hired him that day because she needed an experienced fry cook, and Danny was willing to work for the ridiculous wages that McDonald's insisted on starting new employees at, even with his extensive referrals. Their second meeting was orientation four days later, and she made sure they weren't alone. There were four new hires there that day. All the same, she sensed what felt like a current of electricity in the room, teasing her in places she couldn't help but think about. She hadn't felt that in a couple of years, and she fought back the memories it spawned.
Just twenty years old, Kelly Randolph was a genuinely attractive Southern girl, though she seemed unaware of her own beauty. An attractive face and stylishly short blonde hair highlighted clear blue eyes, and she stayed toned through regular exercise. Her looks certainly commanded the attention of the majority of the male customers and salesmen that came in, though they were respectful for the most part. Kelly had worked in and around her father's McDonald's stores since she was fourteen. He owned seven stores in the Atlanta area, and gave his daughter her own store to manage the day she turned twenty. Meanwhile, she went to night school, working toward her business degree.
Kelly had met her husband at one of her father's stores, and they got married after a brief courtship. Troy Randolph was now in training to become a manager, too, at a store across town. Due to their conflicting schedules, they saw each other only a few nights a week. Sometimes Kelly didn't even feel married.
I was 'almost' a virgin when I met Troy. I always considered myself that way, though it probably sounds weird. See, I was a rebellious teenager, flirty and teasing, but my only real sexual experience up to that point was when I gave up my virginity on the seat of a boyfriend's truck, when I was just fifteen. He was much older, and he broke my heart just as recklessly as he had broken my hymen. I should have known better. Our relationship was messy and humiliating from the start, fueled by my need to appeal to the older boys. Not long after that I found the church, and then Troy, and I knew he was the man I wanted to devote my life to. He's a caring, gentle and respectful Christian man, who never made an improper advance toward me in the whole time we dated. Now we've been married almost fourteen months. Troy was even less experienced than I in the ways of marital pleasure, but he's learning how to please me. I'm amazed at how tender sex can be with a man who truly loves me.
Okay, did I mention that I'm frustrated? Troy and I work different shifts, and most times we fall into bed next to each other, too tired for anything but a goodnight kiss. Sometimes I masturbate while he sleeps next to me, and I've discovered something. I woke up one night to a movement of the bed, and I watched him from the cover of my pillow with my eyes half-closed. He was stroking himself, breathing hard. I didn't want him to know I was watching him, but it was unbelievably arousing! He finished quickly, and all his juice went into a tissue. This just worked me up even more, and it was difficult to wait until his breathing had settled into a normal rhythm. Then I got myself off, as discreetly as I could. I wanted to think he might be watching me, but he wasn't. He was fast asleep.
Danny Joiner could read his manager's inner conflict. One day, as she walked by him, he asked, "You okay, boss?" Kelly just nodded in response, then she stopped. She wanted to know what made him ask that. He just said, "You look like you're getting too much sleep," and then he laughed.
This struck her as an odd thing to say. Against her instincts, she followed him into the freezer and asked, "What's that supposed to mean?"
Danny dropped a box of frozen fries on a cart and turned to her, taking in those innocent blue eyes. After a long pause he said, "Too much sleep means not enough time awake, and that makes for frustration." He turned and walked out, leaving her standing in the frosty air, wondering what he was trying to say. By the time the door thumped shut, her face was warm with embarrassment.
It took her five full minutes to come out of that freezer. When she did, he was just outside the door, cutting cardboard boxes apart with a box knife and watching her closely. He glanced down at her chest and grinned. "Cold in there, ain't it?"
Kelly put her hands across her chest and blushed again. She was chilled to the bone, but she doubted he could really see anying through her blouse. He was obviously trying to shake her up. What bothered her most was the way he seemed to see the girl she once was, beneath the exterior she presented. She headed for the office in a hurry.
