Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
Welcome to another story of mine.
If you are so inclined, favorite, rate, comment, and send me some feedback.
I love hearing from everyone!
This was written to be a one and done but we shall see if these characters agree to that.
To my very own Jeep Girl…The stars aligned during the most uncertain of times sending you to me. Our path is peppered with obstacles but every single one is worth overcoming. I spend every day incredibly thankful for you. You have changed my life and brought in more love than I ever knew possible.
I knew four things about her.
The way she took her coffee.
That she worked across the street at a drug store. Manager, I think. But maybe not. In my mind she was.
She drove a black Jeep.
And I had the biggest crush ever on her.
Blue eyes. Long Hair. Quiet smile.
So, maybe I knew seven things.
She came through my drive-thru at least five mornings a week. Maybe more, but I wasn’t there all seven days. It had been this way for nearly two years.
I did my best to either be the one to hand over the tray with the extra-large and large coffees, one cream each, or to be in the vicinity of the window just so I could see her. If I was working the window, I always refrained from giving her a tray until she asked, just to have her there for a few seconds longer.
Also, to hear her voice again.
Her voice caused goosebumps on my flesh. Every time it did, I wondered if her tongue would too. Just the thought of her tongue on my skin sent shivers throughout my body.
Jeep girl, that’s what I called her, appeared to be about my age, but it was hard to tell. Between the early morning light and the fact that I was certain she worked nearly all of the time and often looked tired, it was hard to tell. Some days when she came through, I was sure she was around thirty like me. Other times she looked younger. Some days I just couldn’t tell.
In reality, it didn’t matter anyways. I didn’t even know if she was single. Or if she liked girls. I guess the few things I knew about her didn’t amount to much actual knowledge.
That had never once stopped my overactive imagination.
I envisioned more times than I could count, that on my break I would walk over with a coffee for her. Just the way she liked it. She would be in her office because I imagined she had one. I didn’t know for sure.
Inside that office, she would be sitting in a swivel chair, typing away. Doing whatever it is that she would be doing. Boss things. Things that showed she was in charge.
She was always doing boss things in this fantasy.
I’d knock gently on the doorframe, because I also imagined the door would be opened as if she were waiting for the day I finally showed up. How exactly I would get in the back room past employees, I had no idea, but in this daydream it didn’t matter.
I’d knock and she’d swivel around, see me. See the coffee in my hands and say, “Finally.” Confirming she had been fantasizing about this moment herself. She would stand up, and I’d know for certain she was taller than I was by a bit, something I could only guess at when I saw her in the driver’s seat. My eyes would glance at the name tag I had sort of seen a hundred times. It would solidify what I had pieced together with each glance.
‘Lynn’. A simple name. Easy to say. Easy to remember.
Almost too simple for the girl of my dreams. Or rather, the girl of my daydreams.
I’d wonder if she already knew what mine said. ‘Ollie’, short for Olletta, a name I hated. The total opposite of simple.
My parents insisted on naming me after my great grandmother, no regard to the fact I would have to grow up with such a name. I donned Ollie by first grade and clung to it for dear life.
My eyes would close knowing there was only two steps between her and me. One step inside and the door would shut and click locked. No words would be exchanged as her blue eyes bore into mine. Her hand would take the coffee from me and where it would disappear to, I hadn’t figured out.
Another detail that didn’t need clarification. In this fantasy world, such things didn’t matter.
With one swift movement, she would show me how strong she was. I would go from standing to being perched on her desk. Finding that I fit perfectly on the surface, almost as if it had been made just for me. She would sit back down and intently stare at me.
I would be extremely glad I hadn’t worn any panties that day. Not admitting to myself that had been intentional. My own just-in-case today was the day courage filled me and let me be brave enough to try this. I wouldn’t think about the fact I had gone panty-less for the five weeks prior to this day. Another detail that didn’t matter.
Her hands would glide up the outside of my legs, her having no idea that they held artwork. My work pants just loose enough. I would debate with myself if I should help casino siteleri her and take them off, deciding instead to let her be in control. It wouldn’t take her any time to have them unbelted and off, thrown on who knows what somewhere behind her.
It would be then that she would first see the tattoos that were hidden beneath the fabric. Butterflies on my right calf. Lilies on my left thigh. I imagined her eyes would light up with their revelation. Her tongue would be compelled to explore each line. In that moment, I would remember the searing pain the tattoo needle produced and replace that memory, with this one. Her there, working her way up.
One. Two. Three butterflies fully mapped out. One. Two. Three lilies next. Her finger tracing the simple words that accompanied the Lilies, ‘the rest is unwritten ;’ homage to harder days.
Me avoiding her eyes when she saw the semi-colon.
Her not asking.
My body would heat up with every lick and strike.
As her tongue finished with the last leaf, I knew her next target. One. Two legs draped over her shoulders. The scent of my arousal hitting me. Knowing it was hitting her too. She would lock her eyes on me, then pull herself in.
Wide slow licks as she began her exploration. Each one sending jolts of electricity throughout my body.
My nipples throbbing. Hard enough to cut glass. My free hand playing with them, moving from one breast to the other. My heels digging into her back, trying to pull her in even closer.
My eyes wouldn’t leave her head as she slowly picked up the pace of her tongue. Her mouth sucking on all the right spots. There wasn’t room to fully arch my back the way I needed to. The way I needed to so I could thrust myself closer to her.
A low moan would escape.
She would break contact, look at me, then glance behind me. “Shhhh.”
The power in that small command would send more ripples of desire and pleasure on a collision course throughout my body. My hand would come off my nipples and I’d bite down on it. Trying to stifle the noises that threatened to escape as the intensity of her movements increased. Hips gyrating to match them, rubbing myself on her face. Her hands on my ass as everything began to go grey. Wave after wave hitting me. The need to cry out and knowing I couldn’t, overpowering me.
Small items would fall off her desk to the floor. She would finally slow, allowing me to come down. Her hands still holding me in place, up off her desk. Finally, gently placing me back down and I would open my eyes.
The grin on her face glistening with the remnants of my release. I couldn’t see myself, but imagined I had that post orgasm glow that made my face slack, eyes go glassy. Her eyes would glance behind me to the computer monitor. I’d turn my head and see various camera views on the screen, not unlike the system at work.
I imagined I would silently collect my pants and shoes. Put myself back together. Go back to work. The next morning, she would come through my drive-thru and we’d smile a secret knowing smile.
So far, none of that had happened. Well almost none. I did go to work most days with no panties on, just in case.
I did my best to see her every time her black Jeep was in the drive-thru cameras. Did it ever cross her mind that I was purposely placing myself in her sightline? Hell, did she even notice me past being the bringer of the coffee?
Did any of it matter?
Life went on. I moved through my days waiting for the next glimpse of her I could get. Imagining more visits to her store. Her office. Which in my head, looked a lot like the one I was sitting in, staring at the computer, doing the schedule.
“Oll. Hello Ollie! Girl!”
“Huh?” I looked up from the old-as-fuck monitor to see Janelle, one of my cashiers.
“Your girl is in the drive-thru.”
I looked at her like she had ten heads. “What are you talking about?”
“Oll. The girl in the Jeep is about one minute from getting coffee handed to her by someone else.” Janelle, with her electric blue hair was still staring at me, waiting for me to react.
This time, my head snapped around. It was 5 p.m. I wasn’t supposed to still be here and now she was here. I wasn’t sure if I should move towards the second drive-thru window or ask Janelle how she knew about my Jeep girl.
“GO or you are going to miss her.” Janelle pushed me out of the back office, which was luckily only feet from the window she would be pulling up to momentarily.
The evening crew didn’t know me as well as the opening shift, so the pimple-faced new kid gave me a look when I moved into his space, found her coffee, and waited until I saw the Jeep move into place.
As she came into view, I noticed she was in her uniform, but her hair was down. I had to suppress a growl. My eyes closed momentarily, then I took the one step needed to hand over the singular coffee.
My right hand reached through the window and handed her the coffee. She looked canlı casino over and seemed to notice me. She smiled. A small but genuine smile. Same as always. There was no need for her to ask me for a tray for her singular coffee, so our interaction would be even shorter than usual.
“Hey. I’ve never seen you here this late.” She spoke. Her voice pierced me.
I had heard her ask for a tray and say thank-you a hundred, two hundred, more times than I could count. But this time, she was speaking to me directly. Intentionally. And it wasn’t her customer service voice. It was her.
More goosebumps than my flesh could handle, formed.
I stood there for an eternity like a deer in headlights then remembered I should reply. “I’m not usually still here.” Oh, super intelligent engaging response Olletta. Maybe you should change your name to Captain Obvious.
“Right.” Her head nodded just a touch as she spoke. “Well it was good to see you. Enjoy your evening.” And then she smiled again but this time it was bigger. Sweeter. Not close lipped. Toothy.
And then the Jeep drove away. Taking my eyes with it.
I was lost in the real smile she had given me when the pimple-faced boy, whose name tag read ‘Evan’, grumbled, letting me know he didn’t much appreciate me in his way. For a moment I was tempted to remind him I was the assistant manager and went where I wanted, but I refrained. I doubted he had much regard for the title. I didn’t blame him. Assistant manager at a fast-food restaurant at thirty years old didn’t exactly garner me instant respect. I really needed to get out of food service.
Without the education to do so, I felt stuck.
“Ollie.” Janelle’s voice further broke me away from replaying that smile over and over again in my head.
“Seth is here.”
“Wicked.” I could finally leave.
In the office, I grabbed my jacket and keys, gave Seth the low-down on the shift and bolted out the back door to my car. I looked at it. It wasn’t black, and it certainly wasn’t a Jeep. Between rust spots you could just barely make out the white paint that used to adorn it fully. I had never known it when it didn’t have rust spots.
The driver’s side door creaked loudly as I pulled it open. There was a can of WD-40 in the backseat somewhere for that. Glancing back there, I didn’t spy it, so I climbed in the zebra print covered seat, cringing as the door shut with another loud squeal. It was always my aim to not slam it too hard. Every bump in the road threatened to dislodge the rust that was carefully being held together by well-placed sections of tape and Bondo my brother kept applying in hopes of getting a little more time out of her. I needed another few months of saving before I could replace her. Slamming the door would just speed up the rust dispersal that took place naturally and leave more of my car on the roads, than on the chassis.
My drive across town was stressful. I had a mild case of ‘permanent road rage’ as my brother, Ben, would say. He hates riding anywhere with me and always has. Today, I left work so late it was rush-hour, and every other driver was pissing me off. ‘Fucker’, “Asshole” and “Stupid Fucks” were my labels for the idiots on the road tonight. By the time I turned into our driveway my face was red and I was ready to collapse from mental and physical exhaustion.
Ben and I shared a small two-bedroom garage apartment. It was nice enough and better than that, it was cheap enough. It also had the perk of being owned by our Aunt Rose. This meant that we often got good home cooked meals that neither of us had to cook.
Ben’s coupe was parked in the drive. My rust bucket pulled alongside it and I turned it off. Before I got out, I thanked her for giving me another day with her. Hopefully if she felt appreciated, she would hold together just a little longer for me.
Inside, my shoes came off then I let my straight shoulder length dirty blonde hair down. “Ben! You here?” My voice broke the silence in the apartment. No reply. This meant one of two things. He was out for a run or over at Aunt Rose’s fixing something.
Ben was almost handy. Not handy enough to be a ton of use, but enough that he held his own. He was strong and capable, so often he was used to move things Rose had decided needed to be moved. Or fix things she was too cheap to pay someone to fix.
By day he worked in a financial office and spent a good chunk of his down time running or at the gym to combat the effects of sitting all day. He was easy to live with, which was good since we had been doing it our entire lives.
Ben was seven years younger than me and had only been twelve when our parents died. We came to live here with Aunt Rose six months after their deaths, when me taking care of him alone was proving much harder than I expected. We were both too proud to move into her house, so the garage was renovated, and we had been here since.
Lately I had the nagging suspicion that kaçak casino Ben was thinking about spreading his wings and moving forward with his life past this address. He had the education and job to do so and mostly I was ready to wish him well but living alone in my Aunt’s garage at thirty was just another sign my life was not going as planned.
All the plans I had, were derailed the day my parents died. One year into college, I left to keep what was left of my family intact. There was no regret in that decision, just wistful wondering about what might have been. What could have been.
Since I didn’t know where Ben was and it ultimately didn’t matter in the moment, I made my way to my bedroom. There was only one shared bathroom in the apartment, so I gathered my stuff and padded down the hallway to it. It was time to wash this grease and grime from a thirteen hour shift off.
I stood in there just letting the water cascade down my body for the longest time before I started to clean myself. The hot water was doing its job. Gone was the distinct fryolator smell that clung to my uniform and skin. It also worked my achy sore muscles from bringing in the truck today. Seth and his ‘vet’ emergency meant I had to open as always and bring in the truck. Then stay late. The only upside to that was getting to see her again.
The downside was the realization that Janelle knew I had a thing for a customer. Had I been that obvious? Did the rest of the crew know? Those were details that did matter. I needed to work on being less apparent.
My eyes closed. My mind wandered back to Jeep girl on its own, which was not new. Instead of her office though, she was in my shower with me. Her hands on my skin. The hot water the only thing coming between our bodies. I stayed in that daydream long enough to make good use of the detachable shower head.
Shower done, I tossed the offending work clothes into the washer, along with the rest from my week, then went into the tiny kitchen. Still no sign of Ben. From the threshold to the kitchen you could see the whole apartment. My eyes surveyed the space. It hadn’t changed much since we moved in. Hand me down furniture, chipped mugs, and plates. Mismatched silverware and chairs. Memories of card and board games played at the table and fights over homework. This small space had housed both good and bad times. Mostly, it had allowed Ben to grow up safe and that’s what mattered.
My stomach growling loudly pulled me from remembering the days when things were harder but at the same time, easier than now. I slipped on my sneakers and traversed the small yard and walked into Aunt Rose’s kitchen without knocking, which smelled amazing.
Ben and Rose were chatting by the stove.
“Olletta, set the table if you are staying for dinner.” Aunt Rose didn’t look my way when she spoke. I shot her a dirty look but knew there was no point in telling her not to call me that, she always had and always would. Since the ‘Original Olletta’ had been her much loved grandmother she simply refused to call me Ollie. Telling me more than once it was a ridiculous nickname for a girl.
I went about getting out plates and bowls, silverware and drink glasses and placing them all on her dining room table on her placemats. They hadn’t changed since the day Ben and I moved here. She had two identical sets she rotated. Aunt Rose was fickle and a penny pincher. For as much crap as she gave me for driving a rust bucket, she wasn’t much better. Holding on to things for years after they were worn out or broken.
At least my car and mismatched, worn down furniture was because of a lack of money, hers was just being cheap as fuck.
We sat down to eat together, something we had done hundreds of times before. My mind refused to stay at the table. It kept wandering back to the girl in the Jeep. It didn’t matter how hard I tried, it seemed impossible for me to stop thinking about her.
“Geez Oll, where are you right now?” Ben was staring at me with an annoyed look on his face.
I placed another bite of pot roast in my mouth. “I’m right here.”
“Physically maybe, but your mind is not here.” His dark hair fell in his eyes as he spoke.
Ben and I barely looked related. He was tall. Had jet black hair and blue eyes. I was short with hazel eyes and light hair. He was all mom, and I was all dad. “Is there something you need Ben?”
The look that washed over his and Aunt Rose’s faces told me everything. What followed was Ben telling me he was moving. Not just out of the small garage apartment, but out of town. He had applied for and gotten a job three hundred miles away.
He was leaving in two weeks.
A blackhole formed in my throat. I was silent the rest of the meal. Back in the apartment, Ben tried to talk to me about his pending move. No part of me was willing to talk about it right now. I had been prepared for him to tell me he was moving out, but not to leave me totally.
Three hundred miles had never seemed so far away in my life.
“Can I get an extra-large coffee, one cream and a large coffee, one cream please.”
Her voice filled my head via the headset I was wearing. It never failed to send tremors through my body.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32