Posted by Master on 06-28-2006 at01:37:
A Saturday Off Chapter 1After years of waking up at 3am to go to work, the pleasure of waking up at 5am has always made me feel deliciously sinful. It was my day off and I considered wandering downstairs to the small grill I work in to grab some breakfast.
The rumbling in my stomach eventually convinced me and I threw on a simple summer dress and ran my fingers through my long brown hair. After all, the grill doesn't get busy until around 6 and I planned to be in and out long before then.
As I padded down the back steps I heard a commotion that should have warned me to turn around and run back to my room. I heard pots and pans being slammed together and several grumbles that I knew could not be coming from sweet Janet, the young woman who cooked on my days off.
I cautiously peeked around the corner at the bottom of the steps into the grill and got caught.
"Oh thank God you're here. Janet called and she's running late and I don't even know how to cook grits much less how to get all this sausage and bacon going. Customers are already complaining and I'm doing the best I can but of course it's not good enough for THEM." Donna waved towards two regulars sitting at the counter looking highly amused, "All THEY want to do is sit on their duffs making jokes and I'm about tired of all of this, I'm a waitress dammit not a cook!"
I stood at the edge of the stairs throughout her tirade nodding and trying to make conciliatory sounds, though I doubt she even saw or cared. Poor Donna did look funny standing behind the counter, close to tears, while staring at a bag of grits like it was a profound math problem that was about to do her in.
"Just let me run upstairs and change" I started.
"I need you NOW!" she whined. There is absolutely nothing, short of nails on a chalkboard that will drive me over the edge than a small southern blonde with a high voice whining. I rolled my eyes towards the heavens for help and stalked to the stove, praying the health department didn't chose now to stop by for a visit.
Grabbing the grits from the blonde, I shooed her away from the stove with a command to go entertain the customers. She actually kissed my cheek before bouncing off with a smile on her lovely face.
In a matter of what felt like minutes I had everything going and orders were filled and out of my way. I stopped to feel eyes on me. I turned to find Bill and some of the other regular customers staring at me.
Bill was a regular customer every morning at the coffee shop. Each morning at 6am sharp he'd come strolling through the door with a smile on his face, and call out to each of "his girls" a cheery good morning. They'd all stop what they were doing to smile and call out a return greeting. Each of them vied for the chance of serving him.
Bill was a good-looking man. Tall, maybe 6 foot 4, with an athlete's build and ice blue eyes that seemed to glow from his suntanned face. His good looks alone would cause the waitresses I worked with to go all a titter, but his constant cheerful disposition caused even more of an uproar.
"Bill's so sweet.' 'Bill's so handsome.' 'Bill's so wonderful.'" The praise was mind numbing and quite honestly, sickening.
As the only morning cook in the small grill. I was always much too busy cooking to worry about the customers. My only concern is getting their food prepared, cooked, and to the waitresses in a hurry. Admittedly, when time permitted I would chance a look at the customers, and yes, I had noticed Bill, in his crisp white shirts, red power tie, and suits cut to perfection. However, to me, there were "real men" in the grill that stood out as better looking.
Like the guy that sometimes came in to eat with Bill, now there was what I like to call "sin on a platter." Same height as Bill, but with a more powerful build, such as a construction worker would have: Powerful shoulders and arms, a tapered chest, and thick long muscled thighs. Just thinking of those rough callused hands running over my body could break me out into a sweat. Of course this would be one of the mornings he was with Bill.
I swallowed and blushed deeply as I realized how focused on my work I had been. I could only imagine what I'd looked like, standing over the hot grill in only a light dress, my long hair flying all around me, while I was so absorbed in cooking. I felt a bead of sweat begin it's course down my blushing cheek and wiped it away with the back of my hand.
Janet chose that moment to come in. As she bustled in making apologies and putting on an apron, something that I'd forgotten to do in my haste, I did my best to retreat towards the stairs that would lead me to back to my private room away from all the staring men. I cursed the efficient Janet as she questioned me on what was left to do and therefore stalled my progress.
I backed right into what felt like a wall. Knowing the grill the way I do I knew there was no wall there. I continued talking to Janet as I reached my hand back behind me unconsciously to feel what was blocking my path. My hand settled over what I found to be a warm denim covered crotch and I jumped, turning to find myself staring up into Bill's friend's amused green eyes. I blushed and stammered my apologies all the while wishing I could melt through the floor and wondering why I'd ever gotten out of bed this morning.
He chuckled, and wiped a strand of hair from my face. The feel of those rough fingers against my cheek, the same way I'd fantasized so many times, shut me up immediately.
"How about joining Bill and I for breakfast? Looks like you could use a break."
I felt myself nodding a yes, but it was to the fantasies that were in my head, not the actual request that I'd barely registered. The sound of his deep voice, warm as melted butter, had instantly attached to my fantasies that were playing in my mind.
I realized as he took my arm to guide me to the table what he thought I had agreed to and demurred. I couldn't have breakfast with these two men. There was no way. I wasn't dressed for one thing I protested. I watched his eyebrow go up at this and his gaze once again traveled my body before he issued the standard, "You look fine."
My body felt like it was on fire where his gaze had touched. I could feel my nipples responding to the fire, peaking, tightening against the fabric of my dress. The feel of the soft cotton rubbing against my hard nipples distracted me to the fact that I was actually being guided to the table. The soft-teasing caress caused my nipples to ache and stiffen into small pencil sized erasers.
"Well wonderful, you convinced our hard working girl to join us this morning, David," I heard Bill say. Oh, his name is David, perfect, I thought. I looked from David to Bill and suddenly realized I was fixing to sit down at the table.
Oh my god girl. Pull yourself together. What are you thinking of? Get your mind out of the gutter and get out of this!
"I'm sorry, I really shouldn't... I just came down for some breakfast, and Janet wasn't here and Donna was having some trouble... I was just helping... I really should get upstairs and get some things done..." I stammered out.
Both men immediately vetoed my suggestion and I sat down in the booth defeated. I scooted over quickly as David sat down beside me, trapping me into the booth and the situation.