Milla at College - Week 01

Milla and Linda exchanged glances with eyebrow content before Milla accepted the paper from the woman's plump hand. "Thanks," she said. Consulting the schedule, she saw they had four more bouts to sit through until Lee's.

Linda glanced at the schedule and pointed to the name of the Santa Rosa competitor in the 185 lb. category: Lee Mun Choi. "That him?" she asked.

"I guess so," Milla said. "Didn't know his full name."

The action started up again, with the Santa Rosa wrestler getting on all fours in the small ring, and the Windsor man getting behind him as if to fuck him doggy-style. "Ay, ay, ay," Linda muttered as the two athletes began struggling against each other. "Are they about to fuck?"

The woman who handed them the scheduled glanced back with a shocked look on her face. Linda's comment had probably not been totally audible to her, but she'd obviously caught its gist. Linda noticed, but turned her attention back to the match.

"You know, she's probably someone's mom," Milla said quietly, and Linda nodded.

The men grabbed each other in all sorts of intimate places, trying pin or avoid being pinned. They took another break and this time the Windsor wrestler assumed the position on all fours and the Santa Rosa guy got on top. The whistle sounded and they resumed rubbing their torsos against each other.

The match finished with the Santa Rosa wrestler outpointing his opponent 4-2. Milla had no idea what he had done to earn that, but the referee lifted up his arm up after the match.

The next bout involved bigger athletes in the 165-pound class. The Santa Rosa wrestler was Hispanic, with a scraggly mustache. Linda yelled out, "Vamos, vato!"

Milla looked at her questioningly.

"Means, 'Let's go, dude!'"

They watched for a minute as the wrestlers lunged at each other's legs, and then Milla leaned way over into Linda's personal space and asked,"Can I say something strange?"

"You can, and you will," Linda answered, not taking her eyes of the buff men in tight suits grappling in front of them.

"Are you finding this erotic? Because I definitely am."

"Are you kidding?" Linda said louder than they had been speaking before. "I am sitting in a puddle of my own making here."

The woman in front of them definitely heard this time and shot them a sour, disapproving look.

"What's the matter?" Linda snapped. "You don't get excited anymore? Just turn back around, Karen."

Milla giggled and leaned deeper into Linda, smelling the jasmine overtones of her perfume. "You're bad," she said after a moment.

"You know it," Linda said.

Milla had been trying to spot Lee but hadn't found him among the idle Santa Rosa wrestlers. When it was finally his turn to wrestle, she realized that she had been seeing him all along: He was so big and muscled and his face was oddly distorted by the helmet.

"Is that him?" Linda asked as Lee and his opponent approached the center circle to receive the instructions from the ref. Milla nodded. "Jesus, he's built like a brick house."

"The other day, we were sitting next to each other, and one of his biceps grazed against my boob," Milla said. "It felt like metal, it was so hard."

Linda said, "I believe it."

Lee and the Windsor athlete shook hands and then squared off in awkward crouches. The bell rang and they circled each other. Lee lunged for the other's left leg and managed to hang on while his opponent hopped around on the right leg and scrambled with his arms to get a hold on Lee's formidable upper torso.

After a couple of tries, Lee managed to stick his foot behind his opponent's free leg, then he pulled up on the left, forcing the Windsor guy to fall to the mat with a resounding thwack. Lee fell with him and managed to keep his advantage on the ground, for which, apparently, he was awarded two points.

As the Windsor athlete tried to escape, Lee clamped his meaty thighs around the poor guy's head. His opponent was looking squarely in the direction of Lee's package and butt and clearly having a hard time breaking out. He wasn't able to before the next break.

Lee went on to thoroughly dominate his opponent, with the final score 7-1. He high-fived his teammates when he got back to the bench, and a bald older man in a track suit -- the coach, Milla assumed -- hugged him.

"You are going to fuck this guy, aren't you?" Linda asked.

"I was sort of hoping that he would fuck me, if you know what I mean."

Linda smiled and raised her hand for a high five. "That's my girl," she said.

After slapping Linda's hand, Milla noticed that the older woman was gathering her things. Milla poked Linda's flank and said, "I think we chased her away."

Linda made a dismissive hand wave and said, "Good riddance. Disapproving cow."

* * *

Milla and Linda arrived at the Corner Cafe and headed for the employee break room in the basement. They found spots for their bags, making sure to remove phones and wallets.

During Milla's training on Wednesday, Drex, the manager who had hired her and Linda, warned them that waitresses had had things stolen from the employee lounge. showed her around. On weeknights, there was just one cocktail waitresses and one bartender, but on weekend nights like tonight, there were three waitresses on duty and two bartenders, one of whom dealt just with orders from the wait staff.

Tonight the waiter's bartender was Grady, a tall and thin white man with fine features that gave him a vaguely feminine air. The other bartender was a black man named Roger who was, weirdly, both muscular and paunchy.

Selima, the vaguely Middle Eastern looking waitress Milla had followed during her training earlier in the week, was working that night, as was a striking-looking Japanese woman named Yukiko. She was thin and fine-boned and a couple of inches shorter than Milla. She probably didn't even weigh 100 pounds.

Selima was tall and gorgeous and kohl-eyed and gave off an unfriendly vibe. "Just follow me, listen and try not to get in my way," she had told Milla during training.

The Saturday shift started slowly, with some bickering between Yukiko and Selima about whose turn it was to get the next table. At first, when there was a lot of time to stand around and think, and Milla was keenly aware of how short the skirt of her uniform was, but as the night went on and she got busier, and she forgot all about it.

At first, she had a hard time keying in specific brand requests like Stoli vodka and trying to find certain items -- like ketchup for those who ordered bar snacks, but she quickly caught on. At one point, she was near the waitress station and she heard Grady ask Yukiko if she could help him close that night. Apparently, an aspect of the job that she hadn't been told about.

"Can't," Yukiko said. "I have a late date. Sorry."

Grady looked disappointed but then saw Milla there. "How about you?" he asked. "On Friday and Saturdays one of the waitresses stays to help clean and close the bar. Wanna learn how to do it?"

"Sure," Milla said. "What's involved?"

"It's easy," Yukiko said as Grady moved away to take an order. "You clean up the glasses, wipe the tables, that sort of thing."

She nodded. Then Yukiko added, "Selima won't do it. Says it's the bartender's job, no matter what the managers claim."

Because you had to be 21 to drink -- underaged customers were allowed in but had to wear a red wristband -- most of the customers were upper-classmen or grad students, and nearly all of them were men for some reason. Milla's interactions with them that night all centered on it being her first night working at the bar. She didn't realize it yet, but they were tipping her better than normal because of it.

She liked how she would have to lean in toward the customers to hear their orders above the music playing in the bar, and she could often pick up the scent of aftershave or toothpaste on them. When they spoke, she would feel their breath on her neck or in her ear. A few placed their hands on her bare shoulders while ordering, which she got a little thrill from, even though she wasn't particularly attracted to any of them.

Grady, on the other hand, was definitely handsome. She liked the way he hunched over to talk to her, his crooked smile, and his stutter-steppy dance moves when a song he liked played.

At about 10:45 p.m., Linda said goodbye. The restaurant had already stopped serving dinner, and she was headed back to the dorm. "Has he shown yet?" she asked, meaning Lee.

"Not yet," Milla said.

"He will."

"He'd better," she snapped with genuine put-outedness. "I'm so horny I could pass out."

The next time she picked up drinks from the bar, Grady leaned in close to her and asked, "Are you guys friends?"

It took Milla a moment to figure out he meant Linda. "Yeah," she answered. "We're in the same dorm."

"That's hot," he said smiling his crooked smile. "Invite me over the next time you guys are having a slumber party."

Milla snort-chortled. "In your dreams, cowboy."

"You know it," he said.

A little after 1 a.m., Drex came to the bar and told Grady that he was leaving. "Who's helping you close?" he asked. Grady pointed at Milla.

Drex nodded and said to her, "Just do whatever Grady asks you to."

"I will," she said.

He made a move as if to step away, but stopped himself and asked her, "How did it go tonight?"

"Fine," Milla answered. "I dropped two mugs of beer."

"That's nothing," he said. "When you get into double digits, that's when we'll worry."

She realized that though she knew she was supposed to tip Grady, she had no idea how much it was supposed to be, "What do I do about Grady's tip?"

"It varies," Drex answered. "Ten, fifteen percent of your tips, but if you're helping with the close, I would stick to ten."

"So $40?"

"You made $400 tonight?" Drex asked, surprised.

Milla nodded hesitantly. "Is that a lot?"

He cocked his head a bit, "It ain't bad. I didn't realize we'd gotten that busy."

Last call was at 2 a.m., and all the customers were supposed to be out of the bar area by 3. After the last drinks had been served, Selima and Roger, the second bartender, left without much ceremony.

Grady waved her over and said, "Come in here and help me close up tabs."

Milla ducked under the gate in the bar that hinged up. She couldn't have opened it because empty glasses and containers with martini olives and cocktail onions were sitting on it. When she straightened up inside the bar, she was surprised to be standing close to Grady. He grabbed her arm at the elbow to steady her. There was a rubber mat with a waffle pattern in it that made it hard for her to walk in her heels.

"Thanks," she said, smiling at him. "What do you need?"

He handed her two checks with credit cards. "Take these to the customers down at the other end of the bar," he said. "And bring back any others that are ready to close out."

She managed to walk to the far end of the bar without stumbling and delivered the checks by calling out the last names on the cards. All the men at the bar smiled at her as she passed, and she felt more exposed than she had all evening. It was only then that she remembered that Lee hadn't shown.

She kept bringing bills with cards to Grady and taking back the receipts for customers to sign. They managed to clear the bar out quickly, and she squeezed past Grady, this time putting her hand on his flank to steady herself.

She started clearing and wiping down the tables, noticing that while Selima had slipped away quickly, her station was almost entirely clean. Grady locked the front door and turned the music off. "That's spooky quiet," she told him, and he smiled.

"Come and help me with this bad boy," he said.

She came back to the bar, and now the gate was up and open, the glasses and garnishes having been cleared. Grady was at the far end of the bar, leaning over and trying to roll up the waffle-printed rubber mat. It took the two of them to get it going, and the mat turned out to be two separate mats, which they carried into the dishwashing area.

She and Grady, but Grady mostly, lifted them into the Wash-o-Matic dish cleaner. He closed the machine and showed her the buttons to push to run it. There was no one else in that part of the kitchen, and as he finished, he bent his legs and hip-bumped her so hard she nearly toppled over.

"What was that for?" she asked laughing.

He shrugged his shoulders. "Felt like it."

"Moron."

He smiled and said, "It's late. Why don't you finish up in the bar area and then come down to the basement. I have to count out the register money down there, but it won't take me long. When I'm done, I'll give you a ride."

She looked at her phone. It was approaching 4 a.m. "That would be great," she said.

Grady disappeared with the register drawer and the credit card receipts, and Milla checked her messages. Lee had sent her a text hours before saying he wasn't going to be able to make it, after all.

There wasn't much left to do in the bar, and pretty soon, she walked down the stairs to basement. She grabbed her stuff from the break room. The office door was closed, but she could hear music blasting from inside. When she opened the door, Grady was sitting on a rolling chair in front of a computer, looking at a spreadsheet and bobbing his head and shaking his shoulders to "Good Times."

"Nearly there," he said.

Growing up, Milla hadn't had much access to music, so she didn't recognize the song, but she did like it's booming rhythms. The office was narrow, which patchy rugs thrown over a concrete floor. Not a welcoming space, Milla thought, but the music filled it out and made it echo with positive vibes.

The song ended, and the next one began. It was a female singer with a beautiful clear voice calling out about trying "to be real."

Grady hit a key on the computer with a flourish, saying, "And done!" He stood up and walked over to her with his arms outstretched. "Dance with me, Milla," he said.

She put her hands in his and started swaying. He held onto one of her hands, put the other on her hip and spun her around in time to the music. "Nice!" he said. "You're a natural."

He let her go, and Milla whirled around so that her backside was facing him. He shimmied up to her while the singer called, "I got to have it, baby. I got to have it."

Grady squatted down and undulated his pelvis near her butt. She ground back into him and he grabbed her hips to hold her in place.

She noticed that his face was next to her ear, and she ran her hands up the side of her head, lifting her hair a foot and a half in the air, letting it drip into his face. He ran his fingertips along the armpits and triceps in a tantalizing way.

Milla's horniness was filling every crevice of her mind. She spun herself around, placing her legs on each side of his right thigh. He straightened himself a little and pushed his leg into her crotch.

Grady's leg muscle wasn't the one that she had fantasized about pressing herself into earlier in the evening, but she had been longing for this kind of contact, and Grady's long, hard thigh would do just fine. She rubbed her pussy along the cotton-clad knot of flesh, opening her lips and breathing out huskily.

One of his big hands was on the left side of her exposed midriff, the other he placed over her right ear and pulled her into a kiss. He smelled of lemons and tequila, and she nibbled at his mouth eagerly.

She emerged from their kiss, and realized that their dirty dancing had become just plain not dancing. She saw the desk chair a couple of feet behind Grady, and she shoved him toward it roughly.

He stumbled backwards with a look of surprise on his face and fell onto the chair, causing it to roll backward with a thump into a tall filing cabinet.

"Enough foreplay," she said, smiling at Grady. She walked over slowly and knelt in front of him as a goofy smile came over his face.

"You are something else," he said.

She didn't reply, instead unbuckling his belt and unzipping his black regulation slacks. His penis, tall and slender like him, was already at attention and emerging from the fly of his boxers. She pulled it out and started to lick it in long, slow strokes.

"Christ," he muttered.

She paused long enough to pull off his pants and boxers with a bit of help from Grady who lifted his hips. "You have a very handsome penis," she said.

He chuckled. "Thanks, I guess."

She got back to mouthing it, this time taking the top couple of inches inside her lips. Grady moaned and slumped still lower in the chair. Milla continued attending to his dick for another minute or so, then she stood up and kicked off her heels. "I'm going to remove my panties now," she announced. "You should take care of all this," she said, pointing at his pants and boxers, bunched up at his ankles.

It was remarkable how quickly he could move when properly motivated. By the time she had reached under her skirt and placed her underpants on the desk, he was standing naked from the waist down.

"Good boy," she said, and pushed him back into the chair. She put one leg over his lap while resting her hands on his shoulders and carefully settled her skirt, and her pussy, over his long, slender penis.

"Oh, God," he muttered as it slid inside. After her full weight was resting on his lap and she could feel the entire length of his dick, she kissed him hungrily.

He grabbed the back of her head, and held her in place to continue kissing her. His left hand he placed on the small of her back, pushing down slightly so that his penis put pressure on the wall of her pussy next to her colon. Then he began to thrust in and out of her, slowly, each time pressing into the sensitive septum between her two cavities.

It felt strange but spectacularly good. "Unnnh," was all she could bring herself to say.

With each thrust, the office chair rolled away from the filing cabinet a few inches, and then slammed back into it.

She disengaged from their kiss long enough to figure out what was making the noise. Concerned that Grady would bang the back his head on the filing cabinet, she pushed off with her right leg, sending the coupling couple spinning into the middle of the room.

Unmoored from the filing cabinet, their thrusts took them in one direction, then the other.

Milla closed her eyes, trying to shut out the willy-nilly motion of the chair and focus on the pressure from Grady's hand on her lower back and on the sensation of the head of his penis pushing against the wall of her pussy.

With his other hand, he lowered the cleavage of her shirt, exposing a nipple. She felt his lips surround her small aureola, and when he started to suck, she let out a soft groan.

His hips were increasing in their pumping pace and she was surprised to find that she was building up to a climax. She gave an extra measure to her next pelvic thrusts, trying to extend the contact between his penis and pubic hair and her clitoris.

As soon as he brought his teeth down on the hardened sides of her nipple, she boiled over, calling out "Aaaah! Aaaah! Aaaah!" in a high-pitched, extended chirping call.

Possibly as a response, Grady's teeth clamped down more, sending her further over the edge. Unlike the orgasm with Rane at the Santa Rosa Star, which had been like an explosion of light, this one filled her ears -- with Grady's heavy breathing, her own bird calls, the thump-thump of disco song now playing -- and burst outward from there, cascading through her body down to her toes.

Grady finally took his mouth off her nipple and called out, "Oh, fuck," before exploding inside her vagina. He kept plunging into her for another minute or so before slowing.

Milla opened her eyes and looked at his face. It seemed to be glowing with sweat and endorphins. She grabbed the hair on either side and pulled him toward her for a hard, prolonged kiss.