A Nighthawk at the Diner

“And what tricks, oh mysterious enchantress, might those be?”

She answered by kissing him again. In the midst of the kiss, she reached down and took his hand from her back and put it directly on her breast. His surprise was such that he almost pulled out of the kiss, but she reached up and pulled his head back down to her. His hand, however, knew exactly what it was doing. It immediately formed itself to her breast, softly kneading at it. His fingers searched through the cloth for her nipple, and ran across the little bud teasingly as it stiffened at the attention.

Jerry pulled his mouth free, still remaining just shy of touching her lips. He was breathing hard, and Andrea noted a growing bulge in his groin, pressing into her stomach. “You’re crazy. Anyone can see us!” He nodded his head slightly toward the front windows of the diner. His voice was a heavy, husky whisper.

Andrea’s own voice was a deep whisper. “There’s no one there.” Honestly, she had been worrying about the same thing. Right now, though, it was rather exciting. His fingers caught her nipple through her blouse and lightly squeezed. She felt her body grow weak for a moment, and she held onto him tightly to keep standing.

“But someone could walk by…” His eyes were half-closed, staring at her lips. He was clearly not completely convinced by his own words.

Andrea giggled. “You’re right. Let’s hide.” She bent her knees, sinking down below the counter, and caught a fistful of his shirt, pulling him along with her. He resisted for only a brief moment, though his eyes widened in surprise.

Andrea let herself down onto her back on the hardwood floor behind the counter, pulling Jerry on top of her. Her purse hit the floor a moment before she did, dangling by its strap around her shoulder. Then his weight was on her, pressing into her hips and stomach and chest, holding her down. The movement pulled her skirt up almost to her waist as her legs parted around his hips.

He shifted his weight, pressing his hips into hers and putting his hands on the floor to support his weight. Andrea drew a breath, suddenly aware that she had barely been able to breathe under him. He kissed her neck lightly. “You… really are crazy, Andrea…”

His face was beside hers, his breath hot on her ear. She kissed his ear in encouragement. “That’s right, baby,” she whispered. “You let me know if you don’t like it.” She reached up to the front of her blouse and began unfastening the buttons.

He responded by kissing a hot line down her neck over her collarbone and into her cleavage. “Oh… I like it…” Or, at least, that might have been what he said.

Andrea felt her breath grow quicker in her chest. Her heart pounded. She began to rock her hips slightly against him, and opened up her blouse completely. She had worn her sexiest black lacy bra, the one that left her nipples half-visible through the lace. She reached up to unfasten the front clasp. As she pulled the two halves of the bra apart, she could feel her breasts suddenly spill free, and they were just as quickly swept into a whirlwind of kisses. Jerry’s lips were all over her chest, kissing and nibbling at her. As wonderful as it felt, it tickled, and she giggled again, and wrapped her legs tightly around him.

Andrea ran her fingers through Jerry’s hair as he ministered to her breasts, pressing his face into her chest when he found a spot that felt just right. He suckled hard at each nipple in turn, then lapped at them like a cat, teasing out entirely new sensations from them.

He began to kiss between her breasts, then descended, pulling her legs apart to allow him to kiss her stomach. Andrea pulled her skirt fully up and lifted her hips to allow her to push her panties down. He assisted and pulled them the rest of the way off, leaving them lying on the floor. For a moment, he just looked down at her, her legs spread wide, her body open and uncovered before him.

Andrea felt suddenly self-conscious. “If you don’t want to do this…”

He didn’t even let her finish, as his face descended down, now blocked from her vision by her wadded-up skirt. Her breath caught as she felt his lips and tongue on her, exploring, teasing. Her body tensed, then relaxed, and she pulled her legs wider apart to give him better access.

Oh, it was good. She was only vaguely aware of what he was doing, but she felt pleasure washing over her in liquid waves, and knew that her fluids must be flowing from her in a flood. But he drank her all up, bringing lips, tongue, and fingers to the job of pleasuring her.

She closed her eyes and ran her fingers through his hair, simply enjoying it. Every once in a while, he would do something, she wasn’t sure what, that would tense all of her muscles as if she was a bowstring being pulled, then she would relax. Suddenly, she tensed, feeling something filling her up, something stretching her, pumping in and out at a languid pace. She opened her mouth to tell him to stop, but she couldn’t get it out of her mouth. She realized that it must be his fingers, now deep inside her, now just at her sensitive entrance; they hit something inside her, something that felt… different. An incredible golden friction built.

Then she felt a touch lower. Far lower. Her eyes snapped open at the light touch to a very sensitive area, another opening that she only rarely thought of. She tried to tell him to stop, but her throat closed around the syllables, and the waves of orgasm rose up to her. Every sensation intensified. She felt filled with light. Her legs vibrated uncontrollably and tightened on Jerry, holding his head against her as she came.

Even as her breathing returned to her, she felt the wondrous friction continuing. She looked down, and Jerry was continuing to softly massage her with one hand. Andrea fumbled her hands around, finding her purse and spilling the contents on the floor. By touch, she found what she was looking for, and handed it to Jerry. A condom in its wrapper.

Jerry opened his pants, freeing his (very familiar) erection, and tore open the wrapper and pulled the condom on. He poised over her, seeming unsure.

“Well?” She whispered. “You know where that goes, right?” Without giving him a chance to answer, she reached up and grabbed his shirt and pulled him down to her. One hand reached down and guided him into her.

He froze there, kissing her neck. She could feel something thick just pressing into her very outer opening. He kissed her jaw. She tried to push her hips up into him, but he deftly kept in position. He kissed her cheek. She reached behind him to grab him to pull him into her, but he grabbed both of her hands and held them down against the hard floor.

He kissed her mouth. Her mouth opened to his, and she felt his tongue slip into her. And suddenly, smoothly, his hips pushed into her, filling her body. She tried to gasp, but she was caught in his kiss. She was immobilized, hands held fast by his, mouth caught by his kiss, and hips transfixed by his spear. She opened her hips as wide as she could, allowing him to slide even further in. A moan escaped her, rumbling through the seal of their kiss.

Slowly, surely, evenly, he began to slide in and out of her, impaling her body mercilessly and then pulling slowly out. Heat built between them. Andrea’s body felt as if it were stretched between two electrodes, and the current was slowly being turned up.

He built up speed, and his own quick breathing forced him to break the kiss. With each thrust, his breath would come out with a tiny moan. Andrea opened her eyes for a moment, and saw that Jerry’s eyes were closed, and that his face was trapped in an expression much like intense pain.

Her legs wrapped around him tightly. Her calves pressed against his buttocks, pulling him into her in time with his strokes. She fought against his hold on her wrists, and her inability to succeed at the battle made her heart race even faster. She bit down on his shoulder, tasting his heavy sweat, as much lovingly as ferociously.

The whole time, she had not come down properly from her first orgasm. She was on a golden plateau. But as she struggled against him, it was as if she hit escape velocity, and all her limbs were filled with molten sensation. Her mind turned inward, swallowed by her senses, as if the whole of her universe lay between her legs, as if the nearly brutal thrust and retreat there were the rise and fall of the sun, or the swell and ebb of the ocean.

It went on and on, for long moments. After a time, Andrea became aware of high-pitched, incoherent cries, and realized that they were hers. She bit her tongue to try to keep quiet, which almost worked.

Jerry’s rhythm became faster, and erratic, sometimes skipping. His eyes were squeezed close, and his face was red. Then, for an instant, he froze, and his eyes opened to stare unseeing toward her. Andrea distantly felt a tiny pulse deep inside her.

He took a breath, and focused his eyes within seconds, and started moving again, more quickly, as if painfully. Andrea reacted, and gripped him hard with her legs and held him fixed in her as he finished coming. His breath caught once, twice, three times. His arms lost their strength then, and he fell on her with his full weight. Her hands free, Andrea embraced Jerry softly.

She let him lie there for long seconds, perhaps a minute, soothing him, running her fingers down his back, silently enjoying aftershocks of her own as he slowly coped with his. Eventually, he dragged himself up on his hands above her, and Andrea took a long shaky breath. He looked at her, and his pale stormy eyes were soft with passion spent.

It was quiet, tender, and awkward in the extreme. In the end, she felt him drawing out of her and rising up on his knees, and she pulled away enough to hitch her bra together and button her shirt. She kept looking at him, thinking that she should say something. But nothing came to mind, and so she just smiled at him and kissed him as he composed himself.

As she stood, she reached down and scooped up the spilled contents of her purse, bunching up her panties in with them. She smoothed her skirt down as she straightened up. Jerry stood at the same time, and Andrea gave him a hard hug around the waist that he returned with a soft and lingering kiss.

She felt fulfilled, and exhausted, and delightful, and empty.

She said something, and he asked a question. She said something else, and he reluctantly released his embrace, and she headed around the counter toward the door. The whole conversation was so dream-like that she could never, not even the very next day, remember it properly.

Friday

The walk back to the apartment was long and dark, and she jumped at ever shadow that moved on the way. When she was finally there, she stripped and went right to bed without bothering to put on her panties or nightshirt. She lay in bed for a long time, trying hard not to think. When her alarm clock finally sounded, she had no idea how long she had been asleep.

She felt more tired than ever, but her body felt alive. Every nerve was turned on. The sensation of the cool air on her skin as she walked across the apartment was like a caress. The warm water of the shower ran hot fingers over her, pleasuring every part of her. Her own hands were like twin lovers, lingering here and there, searching her soap-slicked body to find the points of greatest pleasure. She showered for a long time, and as she dried she found that even her towel was a new sensation to her this morning.

But as pleasant as the sensations were, she felt out of control. As if she had taken her feet off of solid ground and were floating without an anchor in strange waters. Still, she couldn’t help smiling.

She took her time getting to work. By the time she arrived, Mandy was already there, working on a pile of paperwork. She looked up at Andrea when she arrived, went back to work after saying her good morning, then looked back up with a double-take.

Andrea, not wishing to explain her new smile, let Mandy stare, and whistled as she went to work. Mandy didn’t bring it up, but did keep glancing toward Andrea throughout the day, the way you might glance at a bomb that may or may not be armed.

Andrea pointedly, smilingly, ignored her. Work was so much more pleasant when you felt you were hiding something.

Andrea stripped down to her panties as soon as she got home and picked up her nightshirt to put it on. Considering it for a moment, she dropped it back where she found it and pulled her panties off as well. The little worn panda looked at her forlornly from the front of her shirt.

It’s my apartment, I can wear what I please. Or even not, as the case may be.

She giggled and danced aimlessly around the apartment for a few minutes, just enjoying the cool air on her skin.

She felt so incredibly sexy.

She could hardly wait to go back to the diner. But time passed slowly. She turned on the television and watched for a bit, not really noticing what she was watching. She cracked open the blinds on her window and looked down at people passing by, knowing that they couldn’t see her eve if they did look up. She found that doing things, even at home, was very different naked than clothed. It was as if she were part of a conspiracy, as if her nudity were an exciting secret to be kept.

She touched up her nails again, even though they didn’t need it. She did her hair. She inspected her body for any style changes she might make, and then went into the bathroom and finished the job that she had started a couple of nights before. The scraping of the razor across her labia felt dangerous, bad, and delicious. When she was done, she spent a long time examining her handiwork, running her fingers and palms over sensitive skin that hadn’t been bare since she was a kid. It made her feel paradoxically infantile and slutty, which strangely turned her on. The skin tingled at her touch, and she felt supremely vulnerable, even to herself. She teased herself, lightly scratching the surface with her nails. She wondered how it would change the sensation of someone else touching her, kissing her there.

At 11:30, she decided that she had waited long enough, and she dressed herself as she had the night before and headed out. She considered omitting panties this time, but decided that she wanted him to do at least some work for this.

She paused as she headed out, but didn’t quite know why.

The little bell jingled merrily as she walked into the diner, and she started walking toward the counter before she noticed that the waiter there wasn’t Jerry. It was the guy that she had seen on the day shift the day before. Her stomach fell in disappointment.

Oh, well, she realized.He has to take a day off occasionally.

She was about to order a cup of coffee anyway when she noticed that the booth by the window was occupied. Zoe was sitting there, looking right at her, one hand on a closed paperback book on the table in front of her. She was wearing a white collared shirt without a tie, with a black skirt and black heels. A black suit jacket lay across the back of the booth. She smiled at Andrea and waved her over.

Andrea walked over, her day-long smiled somewhat fading. Zoe patted the seat beside her. “Hi, Andrea. Can I buy you a cup of coffee?” Zoe’s smile was sweet and genuine, but there was something in her eyes. It looked like concern.

After an uncomfortable pause, Andrea sat down beside Zoe in the booth. “Sure, Zoe. I see you’re up late, too.”

Zoe waved at the guy at the bar. “Hey, Dan. One hot tea for me, and a coffee, decaf, black.”

Andrea opened her mouth to ask how Zoe knew what she was going to order, but Zoe held a finger up for her to wait. When Dan brought over the drinks, Zoe smiled at him sweetly. “Dan, why don’t you take a break. I can mind the store for a while.”

Dan shrugged, looking in turns at Andrea and Zoe. “Sure, Zoe. I’ll be back a little later.” He headed out the front doors. The little bell sang goodbye as he left.

Zoe pulled the teabag out of the wrapper and let it fall into the hot water in her mug, tendrils of dark color almost immediately spreading into the water from it. Zoe watched her mug like she might watch a Zen garden. Andrea sipped her coffee thoughtfully.

“How did you know how I like my coffee?”

Zoe looked up from her mug, her eyes inscrutable. “Jerry told me. We talk occasionally. I had him switch with Dan tonight so we could talk.”

Andrea’s smile completely faltered. “You did what?” Her voice was flat, even though she had intended it to sound angry.

Zoe’s own voice was steady, but she seemed unsure where to start. “Like I said, I wanted to talk to you. Just this once. Once you’ve heard me say my piece, I promise, no boss tricks between you and Jerry. I’d never stand in his way when he might be happy. Or your way, for that matter. We only talked a few minutes, but I really got to like you.”

Andrea’s head swam. “How much has Jerry told you?”

“Not everything, but I can figure out most of what he didn’t tell me. I know you were here last night, from how he was acting this morning.”

Andrea’s heart fell. She nodded, a warm blush starting.There were worse things, she told herself,that she could have found out.

Zoe smiled comfortingly. “It’s okay, dear. I know that you were under the counter when I came by on Wednesday night, too.” She took the teabag from her mug and stirred in a bit of sugar. “I shudder to thing what you were doing under there, though.” Her glance to Andrea as she licked the teaspoon clean told Andrea that she had her guesses, though.

Andrea’s stomach flipped, and she felt her blush go into full force, her face instantly hot. “Why… How did you…” She floundered.

Zoe picked up her mug and took a sip. “Your purse was on the counter, dear. If you’d been in the kitchen, you would have woken up the cook. And we don’t have public restrooms. There was nowhere else you could have been.”

Andrea was simultaneously impressed by Zoe’s logic and totally mortified that she had known what was happening right under her nose. She felt like crawling under the table and hiding. “Oh, man… I’m, like, I’m so sorry…”

Zoe tapped Andrea’s hand lightly with her spoon, still smiling sweetly. “No you’re not. You’re just embarrassed. It’s okay, though. I’m not offended. Just a bit impressed with your chutzpah. I wouldn’t have been able to do that.”

Andrea smiled weakly. “Well… I was a little tipsy…”

Zoe rolled her eyes. “I figured. From Jerry’s private stash of Jack, I suppose.”

Andrea’s head bobbled with surprise. “I thought that it was left over from a cook that left.”

Zoe shook her head. “As soon as that cook quit, Jerry was all over that case. He was telling you the truth, he just sees it differently than I do.”

Andrea giggled. She felt better. “Was this what you wanted to talk to me about, Zoe?”

Zoe shook her head again, her smile faltering a little. “No, Andrea. Well, I suppose a bit, but there’s something I’d like you to know. After I say it, though, like I said before, I won’t bother you two again.”

Andrea felt herself becoming more grave. What was Zoe so serious about? “What? Is it something about Jerry? Is he some kind of pervert or something?” She found herself wondering what kind of perversions would really bother her.

Zoe looked confused. “Well, I could tell you some stories, but that’s not what I mean. He’s married.”

It took Andrea a moment to realize that she had heard Zoe correctly. She gripped the table as if the ground were falling away from her.

Andrea’s voice was weak. “He… But he doesn’t wear a ring…”

Zoe shrugged. “Not at work, he doesn’t. He has to do quite a bit of lifting and carrying, and he read that a ring can get caught on heavy objects and tear away skin. That was his story a couple of months ago when he stopped wearing it, anyway.”