"Why are you so ill at me?" Pearl asked as she entered the cold and quiet gym. In her area, the word ill was typically used to mean irritable or grouchy.
Darren took the containers from her hands. "It's nothing you did. It's my problem."
Pearl followed him all the way to the employee's cafeteria. They got soda cans from a vending machine. She sat down across from him. She was careful to keep her dress' skirt as smooth as possible. The dinner was woefully uncomfortable. Pearl tried to chat with Darren, but he would only give her one word replies. It was like he was struggling with his own version of PMS.
Poking her food with her utensils, Pearl wondered if she should poke the bear too. Or, maybe poke wouldn't be an adequate word. Stroke? She didn't want to say anything mean to him. "Do you have a tummy ache?"
Darren shook his head and practically snarled down at his food.
"You want me to rub your feet?" She'd done it a few times before. No big deal. She thought his feet were handsome, and they didn't stink.
He guzzled down the rest of his drink. "No thanks." He didn't sound particularly thankful for the offer.
"Your hair's kind of messy. Want me to comb it for you?"
"No thanks."
Pearl sighed and wilted a little.
When all the food was eaten, Pearl put everything in a plastic grocery bag she'd saved long ago. She lingered in the cafeteria, sadly watching Darren grind his teeth like someone that had just quit smoking.
She couldn't stand it.
Pearl put the bag on the table and walked over to his side. She leaned over and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "Hey, are you sure there isn't anything I can do to make you feel better? Hm?"
His words tingled on her skin. "God damn it."
Pearl was soon overpowered.
He grabbed her waist, which was easy since she was so small, at least when compared to him. She was taken right to one of the cold walls, her back against painted bricks. One hand went under her dress, even under her panties. He held her up very easily.
The other hand was in her hair, pulling her head back. His mouth was against hers like well designed gears. He purred and rolled his voice down her throat as he slurped her up. Hardly glowing under the sudden haze of lust, Pearl was able to think, just barely, "We don't have any condoms with us." But another hunk of coal flashed. She'd been taking birth control pills for a while. And they trusted each other.
Everything was fine.
Whatever he wanted.
Darren released her hair and untied the strings at her back, the few buttons keeping it together too. With the dress now loosened, he forced it down. The yellow cloth was now mostly around her waist, partially hanging off his thick arm. Cold stone was on her back, hot muscle at her front and under her. A palm pressed between the wall and her skin, supporting her. Pearl didn't need to cling to him. She was locked in.
His T-Shirt was rubbing into her puckered nipples and pale skin. He was licking and sucking on her tongue. One of her shoes fell off and clunked on the hard floor. She folded her legs the best she could around him. He was like a damn tree.
He let her down to her unevenly arranged feet after a time. But he had her back up again soon, at a lower height. This was because he knelt down, knees on that unpleasant floor, and put his mouth right on her panties.
It was like he didn't care much about the cotton, but Pearl did. The heat, the saliva, and the resolute licking combined with the fabric roused her dainty little parts. It was so much better than rubbing her fingers over her panties. Lapping and huffing on her, his voice humming into her, making her whine and close her eyes, he acted as if he needed everything that was seeping out of her.
After a few moments, he hooked his thumb in the crotch and pulled it aside. No more barrier. One of Pearl's hands went to a breast. The other stayed on his shoulder to help keep her stable, and she really needed to be stable. When he drew on her clitoris, Pearl's thighs trembled and her voice became deranged. She almost slumped over one side but he literally set her straight again.
"Oh! Ohhhhhhh!! Please!" Her hips were grinding into his face. "So good!! Please!!"
She almost had an orgasm, almost. But he abruptly stopped and carried her off again. Right to the table. Another hard surface. There would be bruises. Pearl knew she'd have to either wear more clothes or put spots of makeup on her limbs, like she'd occasionally done for her hickeys.
Her backside was planted on the wood. She helped him pull his shorts and underwear down. Again, the crotch of her panties were kept aside.
It felt ... warmer ... rougher ... and certainly more natural, not that natural automatically equaled good.
No words, at least not from Darren. We was typically a bit talkative but here he was only grunting and holding onto Pearl like he thought he'd lose her. She could only hold on in a similar way, her cheek on his torso. She felt that she couldn't get away if she tried, but she sure as hell wasn't about to try. Something was wrong, something he didn't want to share, and Pearl couldn't stand not trying to help him.
Thankfully, part of that involved her cumming. He really seemed to like that.
When he was finally done, he was still mostly wordless, but he was smiling, and so much more snuggly. He even chuckled into her hair. They cleaned in an employee's bathroom. The closest bathroom with showers was a bit far away.
Pearl was finally able to convince him to come home after all that. She watched him make sure the place was locked up. Then he walked her to the old truck she'd arrived in. A kiss on her cheek, and he helped her climb into the driver's seat, not that she needed much help. Pearl loved knowing that he'd be there for her even when she didn't need it.
***
The 1980s was the decade of the day, although the dress and blouse were really the only 1980s thing about her. Pearl was pretty sure it was inspired by some Laura Ashley looks, but only because it reminded her of an old sewing pattern envelope with the name Laura Ashley on it. She wasn't a "designer" type of person. She couldn't tell the difference between Gucci and Chanel.
Her blouse was a white garment with short, puffed sleeves and a high Peter Pan collar. The dress was in a tent style, a loose look with no waistline. Straps on the shoulders of a medium width, a neckline that ran straight across the space above her bosom, large and deep pockets from the hips to the knees, and a thick flounce at the hem. Pale pink fabric with a small, white, polka dot pattern. Girly, cute, and almost silly. When Pearl first saw it she was surprised. She'd thought young women didn't wear such things back in the 1980s.
