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This is a work of fiction. While some places and events may be inspired by real-world locations and happenings, the characters and plot are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, and even places or businesses is purely coincidental.
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Sandy stood by the dresser, naked, flipping through the clothes she'd laid out the night before. I leaned back against the headboard, the sheet loose around my waist, just watching her, completely transfixed.
Her tits were large and high, naturally full and round, the kind that didn't sag or flatten. They swayed gently with her movements, the kind of motion that made it impossible to look away. Her nipples were thick and erect, darker than the rest of her skin, centered on wide, textured areolas, a deep pink rose in color, almost the same tone as her lips when she was turned on.
She bent forward to grab panties from the lower drawer, and I got a view that made my cock stir, her wide hips tilting toward me, her thick ass cheeks parting slightly, revealing everything. Her pussy lips were barely visible from behind, soft and nestled between her thighs, and just above them, the delicate folds around her asshole, small flaps of skin like the gentle creases of an outie belly button. She was embarrassed by that part of her anatomy, but I would always tell her she had an "outie" asshole, then I would chuckle knowing there was no such thing.
She would always get annoyed and ask me how many I pushed out of me. To make her feel better, whenever we watched porn, I would point out women who had assholes like hers.
She stepped into a black thong and slid it up slow, the string disappearing into the cleft of her ass. Then she pulled up a simple black skirt--professional looking, but tight enough to show off the curve of her ass without looking slutty. It was an expensive Ralph Lauren skirt, the kind you'd see on the cover of a woman's magazine--elegant, sharp, and dangerously flattering.
She added a white blouse, buttoning it just enough to pass in the office. But it didn't hide much. Her nipples still poked through, two soft points straining gently against the fabric.
I pushed the sheet aside and swung my legs off the bed.
"Can we have sex for good luck?" I asked, my voice low and hopeful, only half joking.
"NO!" She replied playfully, "We CANNOT!"
I laughed and grinned, "Hey a man's gotta try!" I exclaimed.
"You men are all the same," she whispered, as she bent over to pick up some clothes off the floor. "Sorry hon, but I am not starting my first day smelling like cum or cock, I just showered and am dressed now, so you are gonna have to jerk it! Why don't you jerk off with my panties later today if you can't hold it?" She asked.
"Oh, honey! I can wait!" I said. I knew I wasn't getting this morning, but she was always sweet about it and never made me feel bad when I asked for sex.
It wasn't too long and I was helping her out the door and wishing her good luck on her first day at her new job. I walked her to the door and gave her a quick kiss, smoothing a wrinkle on her blouse that didn't need smoothing. "You're gonna crush it," I said, meaning it.
She smiled, eyes bright with nerves and anticipation. "Wish me luck."
"Always."
And then she was gone.
Around noon I got a call from Sandy's best girlfriend Keri.
"Hey Chacho!" I said, smiling. Chacho was the funny name that we called each other. One night a long time ago, we drove through the Taco Bell drive through and she was drunk and she tried to order a Churro and a Taco, but it came out Chacho, pronounced like Chaw-Choh. We laughed so hard and after that we began calling each other Chacho ever since.
She laughed and replied back with "Hey Chacho!".
"Do you miss your partner in crime at work? It hasn't even been one day!" I teased.
"Listen, the assholes here would not let us throw her a going away party. I fucking hate them! Anyways, this morning a bunch of us decided we would just have a little get together at that little bar called The Last Draft, ya know, right off exit 37?"
I knew the bar, because my cousin Nancy actually owned it. "I know it well! That is my cousin's place. It is perfect, quiet, and usually not busy on a Monday night." I said, reassuring her.
"That's right! I forgot about that!" She said. "This is a last-minute thing, about ten of us are coming. But we want it to be a surprise, so you have to lure her there at six o'clock."
"Done! We will see you there" I said, then each of us saying our goodbyes and hanging up.
Five thirty rolled by and Sandy pulled into the driveway.
I stood by the kitchen island, pretending to scroll through my phone, but really just waiting. A moment later the door opened, and there she was--still in that same tight black skirt and white blouse, a little wrinkled now, the buttons pulling ever so slightly from the tension of a full day's movement. Her hair was a little messy, like she'd been running her fingers through it. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips pink and slightly parted.
She looked fucking amazing.
"You survived," I said, grinning.
"Barely," she muttered, rolling her neck. "Everything is intense. Organized chaos. But it's good. I think it's really good."
I stepped in close and kissed her cheek, letting my hand slide lightly over the small of her back. "Tell me everything."
She smiled. "God, I need a drink first."
"Perfect," I said, holding up my keys. "Let's go out for a bite. I was thinking my cousin's bar, The Last Draft. It'll be dead on a Monday. Quiet."
She hesitated, glancing down at her clothes. "Should I change?"
"No," I said quickly. "Stay like that. You look... stunning."
We got in my SUV and drove off, she put her legs up on dash, her heels on the floor board and began telling me about her day. It was all typical stuff for a first day. Paperwork, insurance forms, meeting her coworkers and the owner of the company.
It did not take long for us to arrive at The Last Draft Sports Bar. It was the hot place to hang out in the nineties, but then over time it faded out.
I held her hand and walked in to the dim bar. It wasn't much, dingy, a big red felt pool table in the middle. Surrounded by brown tables and chairs against the walls. The bar was at least forty feet long with an "L" shape.
Once our eyes adjusted to the light, we saw Chacho and a bunch of her coworkers.
"SURPRISE!" They yelled.
Chacho was the ring leader, she had a cake on the table, and people were wearing silver birthday hats, even though it was not anyone's birthday.
Sandy's face lit up. She clutched my arm, then after the realization that this was an impromptu party for her, she bellowed and laughed, rushing up to hug her best friend.
Her coworkers gathered around her giving her hugs, some had tear in their eyes as Sandy was switching between crying and laughing, but out of joy and sadness to be leaving people she loved.
After everyone settled down Chacho explained to Sandy that everyone wanted to give her a going away party at work, but their boss would not allow it.
