I remember well the night that I first met Carrie - It was a Friday night and I was on a business trip at a hotel. She was my waitress, and apart from being very friendly she was absolutely gorgeous. She has very dark hair, a beautiful delicate face with sharp inquisitive eyes that contrast her softer features. There was nothing electrical or even out of the ordinary, however - she simply brought me my coffee and a piece of cheesecake, smiling. I would look up from my work to watch her with the other customers - fending off advances from half-drunk businessmen trying to escape their wives, sighing slightly when she got a bad tip. 'She's cute as hell' I thought to myself when I watched her pouring drinks and talking with the barman - apparently friendly enough with him but not flirty. I went over more boring info about what kinds of makeup compliment Asian skin tones the best, what the newest trendy diets were and whether they actually helped or harmed your body - sipping my tea and half paying attention to my work, half to Carrie.
The restaurant began to wind down, and soon I was one of only 2 tables left. I was polite however, and didn't ask that she refill my cup when she was busy or take offense when I was neglected for an extended period of time. Eventually the last customer left, and to my surprise Carrie came over to my table and plopped down, exhausted. She carried with her a big wad of cash and several credit-card receipts.
"Mind if I do my cash-out here?" she asked, looking worn.
"Not at all, it looks like you had a busy night," I replied. "I'm Ariele by the way. Do well with tips?" I never fully understood the whole American culture of tipping, but I knew enough to be aware that people from foreign countries often don't tip nearly as much as the server should receive, based on their meager wages.
"Not too bad," she answered, "I'm dying to get out of here though. Been one of those days."
I looked up at her, directly in the face and was a little embarrassed when she looked straight back into my eyes, smiling. Then it happened - she saw one of my personal columns I had written earlier - my 'weekly lesbian lesson'.
Her face flushed a little but she moved her eyes quickly from the article back to me. I felt a little exposed with the way she took me in. I'm 5'5", 105 lbs and Asian. 30-b breasts, and not a lot of curves, but very slim and I've often been told I'm very pretty, whether I choose to believe it or not. I could feel her eyes gliding over my body - it wasn't perversely sexual or obvious, just a glance that lingered longer than usual.
"I wish you had been on the floor with me tonight, maybe then I'd have gotten less attention from all those old, liquored up men! Ugh... they drive me crazy sometimes." she said, as I took my turn in examining her. She was strikingly pretty without her fancy shirt on- just a T-shirt and her black miniskirt. She was probably closer to 5'7", 125 lbs, 34-c breasts which had an elegantly done tribal symbol tattooed in the top center of them.
I brushed off the underlying compliment, attributing it to her friendliness. I opened my mouth to speak but felt foolish and closed it, not knowing what to say. Luckily she was engrossed in her closing duties and didn't notice.
She let out a sigh as she finished, slumping back in her chair and sticking her legs out in front of her. I felt her smooth skin brush against my leg, and come to a rest pressing against me. The booth afforded little room for 2 people to sit in comfort without touching. I felt a little tingle crawl up my neck but merely looked up at her and smiled. She didn't move her leg.
"So what are you plans for the night?" she inquired, leaning in on the table and resting her head in her palms. I could see a bit of cleavage when she did this, and began to feel warmer than usual.
"Nothing really... I've finished most of my work and I'm not on your time, physically at least, so this is like the middle of the day to me." I responded, putting down my work and leaning in, assuming a more receptive posture. My leg slid against hers, our smooth skin gliding together. She smiled.