His cheap cologne invades my nostrils. His warm breath creeps down my neck. The room seems to daken; it's jut me and him.
His sweaty palm presses on my shoulder, he says, "Wow, you look good tonight!"
I look down and see my flour covere shorts and shirt. I mumble a thanks.
My heart is pounding. I wish he would leave. But no, he's the manager, he gets to make the schedule, and I always work closing, on the inside, alone when he's working. There is others working, of course, but they run in and out, delivering pizzas.
"What are you doing after work?" he inquires.
"Umm, I'm going out with some friends." I utter.
"Oh, thats to bad, I was hoping you would stay a bit, you know help me with some paperwork, and maybe afterward, we could get a bite to eat or something."
Before I say anything a car pulls up. A sigh of relief escapes my lips. It's one of the drivers.
The smell of cologne is replaced by the smell of pepperoni and cheese, my shoulder is moist from his hand, but he is no longe there. He's in the back office waiting for the driver to come in so that he can send him home.
I busy myself with sweeping. I start putting away the toppings, and then head to the back to put the dough in the freezer. My heart is racing, anxious for this day to end.
"OH!!" I utter.
He's standing right behind me, waiting for me. His eyes gleam in the light as he undresses me with his eyes.
As he slides closer, I gradually move back.
What should I do!
"You should stay." He blazes.
"No I really better go, my friends are waiting for me." I mutter.
I scurry past him. As I leave, his wet hand slaps my butt. I spin around and shriek "DON'T DO THAT AGAIN!!"
He looks at me stunned as i rush out the door.
I climb into my car and exhale. I feel dirty all over. I take a long hot shower, but after, I still feel his moist palm on my back, his breath on my neck, it just won't go away.
I call Mitch, he just started working with me, and he's ultra cute. We started dating about a week ago. i tell him everything that's going on.
"Wow," he exclaims, "I didn't know he was such a jerk."
"I know, what should I do?"
"I'll start working at closing with you, and when I get off I'll stick around and wait for youso he doesn't have a chance to bug you, alright?
Person A was a male around the age of 24. He was tall and thin with a short dark haircut and brown eyes. The first nonverbal observation I made of Person A was the way he was dressed. He had on a blue-collared, button-down shirt and a pair of dark jeans. His clothing was coordinated with a pair of brown suede shoes. I think he took time to put this outfit together. Another nonverbal observation I made was his smell. As soon as I approached the table, I caught a subtle whiff of male cologne. The smell, however, was not overbearing.
I slowly turn and face the monstrous sound. Him. A disgusting, horrid, pathetic excuse of a man. Of course, I did not voice my thoughts. Instead, I charge for him, my fear fading into an anger like never before.
"Oh", he whispered. "You better get going then or else the boss will be furious."
I laid in my bed last night. My thoughts wandered until you walked through the door. You breasts swung freely as you walked toward the bed. You climbed on the edge; your tits hung as you crawled over me. You pushed at my shoulders and moved over my face. Your scent filled me as I positioned myself under you. I watched your lips spread apart for me as I pulled at your ass. I could see the glistening wetness as I kneaded.
The door opens and her perfume creeps up his nose. She rises to greet him, and he is that boy in law school again. Hair, aglow, dancing on shoulders, smooth olive skin radiating a warmth felt from across the room, he...
“Come down here on the floor with him.” She pats the spot next to her. I shake my head, comfortable where I am on the couch, a safe distance away. “You’re going to have to engage,” she says. “If you want to be able to do this after I leave.”
Junior Boy and I started to talk about meeting each other and maybe even starting something together. Obviously, I wasn't the one to say no. So I tried to meet up with him at the mall one day before school was about to start.
“I have to leave in a few hours. Got to work tonight, night shift.” Lefty spoke. “Okay, I’m going to miss you,” I said. I lifted my head up, looking up at him out the tops of my eyes, pouting just a little. “Oh my baby,” Lefty said as he caressed my cheek, “don’t do that honey. I am going to miss you, my baby,” he said as he leaned in gently kissing my lips. I smiled as I purred softly, this man is so god damn perfect. Lefty leaned back into the back of the couch and I am so infatuated with him I wanted to take advantage of every possible moment with him. With my coffee still firmly in my hand, I leaned back into Lefty as my head rested on his shoulder. “I could sit like this forever,” I softly spoke. Lefty leaned over, placing his lips upon my forehead and whispered, “you are my favorite place to be.” We sat just like that, enjoying each other presences until it was time for him to
I don't remember how or where we are standing anymore. The only thing I remember: his gaze towards me is oblique.
As he opens his door, I shut off the engine and open mine, too, hopping out. “No need. I’ll come for it.”
Casually kneeling in between his spread legs, you laugh stiffly as you place the towel over his head and gently (quickly) towel him off. He gives a sincere smile (gorgeous) and you can't help but return it, shocked at how quickly you seem to have mended. Fear grips you as you realize that you may be too hopeful, and he's not really here for all the reasons you want him to be. Smile lost, you hastily try to retreat. He notices and grips your wrist, pulling you into his soaked chest and nuzzling into the crook of your neck and biting tenderly. You blush furiously and try to pull away, even if it's only to see his face.
lick my hand. My grandma follows me into the kitchen to make some hot tea. I
...ng me onto my side, and then finally onto the steel platform. Cold fog envelopes my broken body. He gives me one last gaze full of emotion.
Finally it passed through the other side followed by an eerie screeching sound. The dreadful sound was emanating from the dry rotted tires that were rubbing against the rails. After the car emerged from the exit of the car wash, it was then wiped dry by the co-workers of the car wash. Watching the employee’s wipe the car I could hear the boy my age say, “I feel bad for who ever owns that car”. The car was fully washed and ready to go as one of the staff members approached the benched and asked which one of us the owner of the vehicle. Again the muttered another comment, “sure isn’t mine”. The comment from the boy made me hesitant, but for a moment I realized the only person I was fooling was myself. So I picked myself up and as I was about to leave, the man in his mid forties stated to me “it could have been worse, my first car barely ran”. With that comment I was a little more encouraged to get into the car and leave with some dignity.
I saw his fist once again heading toward my head. I was taut to never let the enemy away with victory so this time I did the same thing back to him as he has done to me.