In Uniform Page 2

  I see he's done this before. The look in his eyes tells of an experienced man. That's fine with me. I'm not into guys who have no idea how to 'talk' to girls. With my looks I have no shortage of men, young to old, chasing me; however, by-and-large they don't have the experience with girls in my league to make for anything more than a phone number and a free dinner. (Not saying I'm a bad person who uses men here, but just that I don't give it out like Christmas candy, alright. It's my body and I respect it.)

  "I don't know," I say. "I was thinking about getting a beer and hitting the beach for a bit."

  "That's cool. You need company?"

  "I guess so. Don't you have work, though?"

  "It's paperwork. A quick beer and then straight home won't be too much of a problem."

  A quick beer? Ohhhh... That's so cute. He's playing with my head a bit. I doubt when we get out there that Jack will be pushing to get home straight away. Then again, I'm not 100% sure. He's either keeping a nice balance here OR he's actually serious. The confusion makes my heart beat slightly faster. Does Jack like me or not? Is he just being friendly or does he have a secondary objective? Ah, I'm trapped in this stud's web of pleasant confusion. Perhaps I like that; perhaps I don't. We'll have to wait and see.

  Thinking over what 'might' happen takes the better half of mopping the floor. Jack is working in the kitchen, cleaning up after that slacker of a chef that we have and I have no further opportunities to ogle.

  "Finished?" he calls from out back as I put the mop bucket into the small cleaning area sink and pour out the water before flushing it out with a burst from the spray hose.

  "Almost."

  He puts his head out the doorway.

  "You go get the beers and I'll do the cash up," he says. "I drink expensive lager only. I'll reimburse you later."

  I chuckle. Making me - a hot girl - buy his beer; this is getting fun again.

  "Ok. Will you be paying for mine?"

  "Do I look rich to you?"

  "You did say expensive."

  He doesn't even take time to think it over.

  "Get your own beer, babe. You have a job."

  I smile and pull off my apron, revealing the tight black pants I'm wearing.

  "Whatever you say," I tell him before heading out the front door and across the road.

  Glancing back as I cross, I note his eyes following me with a small smile on his lips. He is quick to start working with the register when he notes my glance. Knowing that things are going somewhere interesting makes my pace quicken and my thoughts turn to naughty things. I REALLY shouldn't be doing this - and I know it - but losing Harry was a huge hit emotionally and I, in all honesty, need to get him out of my head before I go nuts. Therefore, my thoughts are that I'll play with Jack a bit (nothing sexual) and then go home to watch surfing videos on the internet before settling in to sleep and dream of the waves tomorrow on my day off.

  The transaction is quick. I choose a wine spritzer for me and the only lager that they have, which is pretty cheap but will do. When I get back, he is cleaning off his hands and looking ready to continue our roles as man and woman playing the 'whatever this is' game.

  "You bought that?" he asks, noting the beer in my hand.

  "What? You said lager."

  He raises an eyebrow.

  "Yeah, but that stuff is pretty naff."

  "Don't be such a little girl," I chide with a chuckle. "It's just a beer."

  He shakes his head.

  "Beer is not just beer."

  I lean over the counter.

  "Does that mean you won't drink with me?"

  He shakes his head.

  "No, it means we have to head past my place to get something good."

  Oh my, Mr. Barrels, you are playing it smooth.

  "I don't know..."

  "Just relax. It's only down the road. I'll pop in to grab something from the fridge. You don't even have to come up."

  Touche.

  "Well, if you insist."

  And with that we are done and walking down the street to his apartment, which is beach side and probably expensive.

  "Who pays your bills?" I ask in curiosity as we walk. "It costs a lot to rent here."

  "My dad owns the property. It's part of our agreement with the internship. If I work for him for six years after I complete my masters then the place is mine."

  "Your dad seems nice."

  Jack laughs.

  "He's a good guy. I think he knows that I want to get out of the law game, though. This is his way of making sure I have a career that I can rely on before I jump ship too quickly."

  "You don't like law?"

  "Not really. I just chose it because my dad has connections."

  "Ok, so what do you want to do?"

  He thinks it over.

  "Homeless beach bum?"

  "Seriously?"

  "No, maybe a journalist; something where I can write."

  Wow, arty and creative. That's cool. Definitely more my type than tax lawyer (however, both have their good points).

  "You like writing?" I ask.

  "I do." He points to a large building just ahead. "We are here."

  Jack taps me on the shoulder and walks in through the large double doors. I pause. This is the moment where I make a choice. If he really means 'get a beer and leave' then I'm not entirely sure whether I will be disappointed or not. However, for ANYTHING to happen, I need to enter the building. Staying here is safe, easy and a decision I know I should be making; going in, on the other hand, is something my gut, heart and a good portion of my mind is encouraging me to do.

  I catch up with him at the elevator. I guess the part of me that is just a girl curious about a boy won out this time around.

  "I'm on the fifteenth floor," he tells me as we get inside.

  We ride up. He doesn't really say much and I don't really want him to. The tension is there and it's nice enough as it is. If he doesn't screw this up, like almost every man I have met recently has, then we could be on.

  Stepping out, we head down the large clean looking hallway and come to the door of his apartment. He lives in 1507. The name of his father's company is on a plate under the little intercom. I recognize it from the newspapers. It's a big middle level company in the city, which is a good hour by train from here. Jack comes from good stock.

  Inside it's pretty minimalistic. He has a weights set, no TV, a table overflowing with documents and a lap top balanced on the edge of it. The bed is in the far room, double, not made, and, for the most part, the lounge-kitchen-bedroom combo is pretty tidy for a guy.

  "Nice place," I say.

  "Thanks."

  He goes over to the fridge.

  "Do you want a decent drink?" he asks. "That spritzer doesn't look very tasty."

  "I like this brand. I'm poor."

  "Try this instead," he says, pulling out a bottle of white wine. "I think you'll find it more to your liking."

  He puts it down on the counter top and I sigh. If I must drink moderately expensive wine then I must.

  "Only a half glass," I tell him. "I'm weak for wine."

  Jack's eyes give me that gleam that men's do when they hear that a woman has a low tolerance for any form of alcohol. I don't mind. I can manage a few glasses before I'll be in any real trouble. This little game of ours will last until I feel like it's time to go anyway. I'm not committing to buying the house just yet.

  He grabs out a beer, pops it open and grabs a chilled wine glass from the back of the fridge to pour me my drink. We take them up and clink glasses.

  "To a good day's work," he says.

  I sip and give him the smile I reserve for boys I think are cute.

  "Would you like to see the view?" he asks.

  Jack walks over to the entrance to the outside balcony and pulls open the white shade curtain. I come over and look out.

  "That's amazing."

  The ocean spreads out in front of me so wide that I can see for miles. It's been awhile since I ha
ve seen the sea from this high up.

  "You can see the beach too," I note. "You are pretty lucky."

  "I'm feeling lucky today," he says opening the door.

  We step out. What should I think of that comment? Both of us lean against the balcony's front and sip our drinks.

  "You want to tell me what really has you spacing out?" he asks.

  I decide to go with the truth.

  "I broke up with my boyfriend two weeks ago. It's been difficult this time."

  "That sucks. Did you love him?"

  "A little," I admit.

  He nods in understanding.

  "I broke up with a girl about a month ago. She was nice, but too bookish. Her name was Cindy."

  I gulp. It can't be the same person.

  "Really? Cindy. What was she like?"

  "Russian, blond, tall and pretty smart. I don't think she liked me for me, though. There was always a sense that it was about my father and my future job as a tax lawyer."

  "I see."

  Oh my god, small world.

  He looks over. His golden brown eyes are somewhat sympathetic yet searching too. I wonder what he's looking for. Is he worried that I might not be over Harry and want the fool back? He shouldn't worry. I don't give second chances to boys that dump me. Harry and I are over - for good.

  "To being single again," he says, holding out his bottle.

  "To being single."

  I clink glasses and down the rest of my drink.

  "I'm done," I tell him.

  He nods and looks back to the kitchen. I can see he's thinking. As the girl, it's my job to let him do that on his own.

  "You are quite cute, Sally," he admits. "It's a pity you aren't really available."

  "What says I'm not?" I ask.

  His eyes twinkle. I really like how the gold and brown colors intermingle.

  "You just broke up with your guy. I suppose you need time."

  "Perhaps."

  I leave it at that. He either mans up or not.

  "You do have really pretty hair," he continues, reaching out and taking a length of it in his fingers. "I really like straight blond hair."

  "You do?"

  He's still playing with it.

  "Yeah. I find it pretty attractive."

  Jack leans over and looks me in the eyes.

  "I find YOU pretty attractive."

  His hand stops playing with my hair and cups my cheek. I look up into those eyes of his. I can smell the beer on his breath and see the upward curve of his smile. Those lips look nice and warm. I wonder if he will...

  Kissing Jack for the first time is splendid. His palm is firm and rough against my cheek and holds me firmly as he draws me forward, up and in to his lips where he works me over for a good few seconds before letting me go.

  "You are a good kisser," he whispers.

  I nod and let him draw me forward for more. My lips come in and over his larger ones. Our tongues pop out and roll over each others' - I'm not even sure who started it. Saliva wets my lower lip and my hand comes to his strong, firm waist to rest and enjoy the sensation of his warmth.

  "You are so firm," I whisper to him.

  He nods and comes down to my neck, brushing my hair aside and kissing me lightly on it. Electrical currents of warmth flow up and down my body as I melt into him. His hands soon have my t-shirt in hand and I find my stomach rippling in pleasure as he runs his hand along, across and upwards to come up and cup one of my smallish breasts.

  "You are going too far," I whisper quietly. "We shouldn't be doing this."

  Jack nods and gently nuzzles my neck as his hand works the tip of one of my now brown blossoming petals. I moan and let him do it. The sun flowing down on me; the wind gently caressing me; and this man arousing me. I don't care about Harry right now. All I want to do is feel good, just a little break from reality, a moment of hot emotion and hotter sensations, nothing more than that.

  My t-shirt is pulled over my head and he bends down to nibble on the ready flesh of my left perkiness as my bra disappears to the ground behind me. I often sunbathe on the roof of my house, which is pretty private due to the lack of other apartment blocks in the area, and I have no tan lines - anywhere. He admires me with his eyes then admires me some more with his mouth. I moan and curve my lower back in, so my torso comes upwards and presses into his big body. His hands are exploring me quite vigorously and doing things that are making my juices really flow. I let him unzip my pants to take this further, but he finds it too difficult to get his large palm inside.

  "Sorry," he mutters.

  I don't really get why until he goes down on his knees and pulls my black work pants down. I cover myself, but his hands take mine and gently pull them away.

  "Jack... It's too much," I beg.

  He shakes his head.

  "In for a dime, in for a dollar."

  My panties come down and my waxed area, not a hair to see, is displayed to him to the wide blue sky and anyone who might be watching.

  "What are you...?"

  Legs are opened with minimal force - perhaps the owner of said legs being a little more willing than she wants to let on - and a tongue is applied. The rush of feeling as already wet and warm parts become even warmer and wetter is exhilarating. I am well aware that I shouldn't be having sex with Jack on his balcony of all places (a first for me), but I'm starting not to care about things like that. In fact, my mind is sort of hazy now that the animal instincts of my feminine body are coming into play. If I'm going to feel good then I may as well feel REALLY good (simple logic, yes?).

  Jack proves proficient at what he is doing. His flesh lashes mine with thick long strokes, tickling and enchanting it with every little movement, drawing me close to pleasure and cooling me when it becomes too much - each time gently but persistently bringing me closer and closer to somewhere very nice.

  "That's soooo good..."

  He doesn't stop. A finger is soon placed, oiled and entered. I groan at the cruelty of his touch. Not one but two fingers are positioned just right within the caverns of my flesh and they work in tandem to stroke inward, upward and towards my inside pleasure spot.

  "That should be enough," he says a few minutes later, removing all implements of enjoyment at once.

  I fall to my knees. The man says something like that when I'm in this state? I look up at him as he unzips his pants. At least that is a step in the right direction.

  He draws his jeans down and my eyes do that little pop thing they do when someone is shocked by what they see.

  "It's too big, Jack. I can never fit that inside," I mumble.

  I'm being honest right now. The size of what he has is the length and width of an EXTRA LARGE sausage down at the supermarket. I have seen a few of these in my life, but this is twice as big as my largest experience. It's almost disappointing as I know that this moment right here is where things end between us. I can't have the experience that I was hoping for because I won't even be able to get the thing inside. It's really that simple.

  He reaches down and pulls me up.

  "Just relax, Sally. Let's just try getting the tip in."

  I comply because I'm sort of desperate now. He's put me in a place where I have no ability to say no. My fingers will never be able to do the job that his lips, tongue and fingers did on me. If only he were smaller then we could have had a good time together.

  He takes the erect stalk in hand and gets me to put one foot up on a small bucket that was sitting near the door once I have thrown my pants aside. I lean against the concrete of the balcony and wait as he puts his flesh to mine and rubs it about some. It feels good, but there's still no way that it's going to fit inside of me. I should probably give up now.

  Jack angles it inwards and pushes it in slowly. My eyes go wide and I grab him around the neck to dig my fingernails in. My mind goes blank and I cry out as I am stretched so wide that I live almost completely on the edge of both pain and pleasure.

  "Too..."

  "Shhh..."
he whispers to me. "Wait for the tip. It'll be ok."

  I do and it does - to my shock. He manages to get it through the twists and turns of my slick road and reach the depths in surprisingly good time.

  "I can't believe that it's in there," I say in surprise.

  "It gets better," he reassures me.

  Again, I push my back to the wall and lean over to look up at the blue sky above. From now I will just let Jack take me as he likes. I was wrong about it fitting and he was right. 'Thinking is the poison of the soul' some say. I won't be thinking for awhile.

  His hips thrust and I jerk upwards. He grabs mine and holds them as I take him fully, quickly and surely. The intensity grows from a short stiff push to a hard pounding slap. My mind truly goes blank and I buck against him with no thought of restricting my cries, which are loud enough that Jack has to gag me with one hand as the other digs in and squeezes one of my firm butt cheeks to keep me as 'open' as possible during this thing that we are doing.

  "I'm going to cum," I tell him between pants.

  He kisses me hard and triples his pace. I lose it for a full minute and when I come to I find that he too has found happiness in me as well.

  "That was nice," I mutter, caught in a wave of dizzy pleasure.

  Jack Barrels grins and picks me up. He takes me inside. We don't stop until morning.

  Just Another Saturday

  MY LOVER IS LOOKING HOT THIS AFTERNOON.

  I'm working with Jack today. The manager had a talk to us after he found out we are dating and told us that he would change my weekly shift so we could come to and leave work together, which is sort of good because I pretty much live at Jack's place now.

  I look around the cafe. It's been slow today. I glance over to the door as it opens. To my shock two people that I never thought to see again walk in.

  "Cindy," Jack mutters from next to me.

  My eyes flow over her. She's not even close to as hot as me. I think Jack is doing the comparison right now and he's realizing the same thing.

  "Oh? Sally, I didn't know you worked here," Harry says.

  "I do."

  Cindy is looking over the coffee machine at Jack. She doesn't look that concerned, considering this quite well could turn into something nasty.