Me And Chrissy At Denny's

   A Monday evening in April.  Another dinner at Denny's.  But, this night
wouldn't be like most...  this dinner wouldn't be like any other.

   I walked into the restaurant as I do most nights.  I sat at my usual
table.  To my surprise, a familiar form brought my soda.  "Hey, cutie," she
chirped.  It was Chrissy.  She'd left Denny's for a better job some time
ago.  "Back?" "Yeah." "What happened?" "Laid off." "Sorry." "I put your
dinner order in." "Thanks.  Workin' this shift?" "No.  I'm on my way out."
"Goin' home.., lucky guy." "Maybe...." "Maybe?" "I was jus' thinkin' some
guy might be lucky.., if he was to buy me dinner." "Oh?  Anyone I know?"
"Um, yeah, you know him." "Perhaps I could steal you from him.., unless
you'd rather eat somewhere else?" "Heh, no, the food is fine here.." ".,
and so's the service."

   She smiled as she turned to go into the back.  I knew she'd be back.

   Chrissy returned to the table, no longer in uniform.  She wore a tight
pair of fading blue jeans over her big form.  The denim clung tightly to
her firm thighs and tight ass.  I envied that fabric.  The top she wore was
colored pink, subtle but unmistakably pink.  Like the jeans she wore, her
top clung to her magnificent globes but drifted from her modestly port
belly.

   As she sat, I looked upon her hair.  Brightly blonde, as always, but
unaccustomed was I to see it flowing loosely beyond her shoulder and full
from her head.  She shook it as she settled into her seat, "I put an order
in for myself," smiling widely, with teeth shining as her hair and hazel
eyes.  "You okay?" she inquired.  Only then did I realize I'd been staring,
my lips parted by the tip of my tongue.  "Huh," I muttered, "yeah, I'm
fine...."

   She giggled slightly.

   We had only moments to chit-chat before our dinners arrived.  She'd only
returned to work at Denny's two days ago.  She told me she'd purposefully
taken the last shift because the restaurant staff had told her I was still
coming in for dinner at 7:30 PM at least twice a week...  "And, they
figured you were due to come in today.  I wanted to see you.  I've missed
you.  It's kind'a weird I know.  Not like we really know each other.  You
just come in for dinner...."

   Our meals were served.  I'm not much of a talker while I eat.  I find
discussions tend to disturb the digestion.  Better for the digestion is
reading.  When you read, you set a pace for your consumption which is
conducive to eating your food without haste or delay.  I explained that to
Chrissy before I took up my book to read.  She looked around the dining
room, the section was clear of any other patrons, "You can read to me."
"Seriously?" `Yeah, why not." So...  I did.

   After our dinner plates, utensils and glasses were cleared, "Let's have
dessert in the back," she said.  I saw no reason to deny her.  We went to
the large round table in the back corner, furthest from the restaurant
entrance.  The light here was dimmer, the windows blinded, and this section
was as vacant as the other.

   Chrissy said, "Make yourself comfortable.  I'm going in back, get my
purse and coat.  And, I'll put in our dessert order." "Okay," I replied,
"but, take this," handing her two twenty dollar bills, "she can keep the
change." "Maybe it's the tips," she teased, walking away.

   Before Chrissy returned our desserts arrived.  Mine was cheesecake, with
strawberries and whipped cream.  Hers was apple pie, with vanilla ice
cream. We both would have coffee but, "Chrissy said she'd bring it when she
came back," the waitress informed me.

   I waited anxiously for Chrissy's return.  For reasons I couldn't fathom
my face felt flush and my groin began to flourish.

   Moments later, Chrissy did return.  As she walked toward the table I
noticed she seemed to be walking awkwardly.  She carried a coffee pot in
her right hand, two mugs hung from a hooked finger in her left.  And, she
carried her purse and coat as well.  Her purse strapped across her chest,
hanging at her right hip.  Her coat was draped over her left arm but she
carried it high and pulled right.  I also noticed her top seemed more loose
about her shoulders than it had during dinner.

   As she neared the table her left arm came away and I was thus able to
discern the cause of her awkwardness.  Her top was indeed more loose than
before, it no longer clung to her tits but they were clearly visible
beneath the cloak of pink.  Just beneath her magnificent D-cups a single
button of her blouse was done.



   "Skooch over," she bade me, and I obeyed.  I slid along the
semi-circular bench seat until I came to be beyond the view of the front of
the restaurant.  Chrissy lay the pot and mugs on the table then removed her
purse.  She moved the dessert and coffee toward me as she sat.  She slid
into position beside me, leaving her coat covering her purse back where I'd
been seated.

   "Hi," she chirped.  "Hi.  You're just in time." We ate our dessert and
spoke of insignificant things.  In due course our talk took a turn,
flushing our faces.  She had moved closer to me.  And, her hand rubbed
inside my denim covered thigh.  Her breath warmed my already warm face. 
"You smell nice," I blurted.  "Thanks.  You comfortable?" I was squirming a
bit...  you know how it is when your cock is hard in a pair of jeans...!

   "Um..," "You need space," she cooed, loosening my belt and unfastening
my pants, then lowering my zipper, "Yeah, you do." "Oh!  Shh-it." I called
as she reached into my underpants, taking my erect shaft in her right hand.
"Powder, huh.  Keeps everything nice and dry.., all the better." she said,
smiling coyly.

   Chrissy's thumb rubbed the head of my manhood while her third and fourth
fingers flapped by sack.  I was compelled, reaching across with my right
hand to free her breasts from the top which so insecurely held them.  I
gasped inwardly, my breath stolen from me...  I held in my hand the most
wondrous flesh orbs, so warm and soft....

   We composed ourselves just enough to resume consuming our desserts... 
but we kept our right hands at play.  I had no care for the awkwardness of
eating and drinking with my left hand; neither, it seemed, did Chrissy. 
From time to time I gazed into her eyes, my vision blurred by the glaze of
exquisitely slow pleasure.  We seemed to be breathing in rhythm.

   As I chewed my last bite of cheese cake, she swallowed hers and brought
her lips to my ear, "Go south, fella." A brief second of pause, I reasoned
her meaning, and my hand moved to her pelvis.  As I slid my hand over her
nicely port tummy, a warmth flowed from it through my arm, flushing my face
a bright crimson.  My hand lingered on her fleshy abdomen, I swallowed my
cake.  I bent my lips to her stomach and kissed it, my tongue's touch
caused her to cough a bit of coffee from her mouth.

   We laughed.

   Her right hand worked under my shirt, roaming about my chest, abandoning
my raging cock.  My left hand worked her breasts, alternating from one to
the other.  I encountered a surprise when my right hand passed her waist,
dipping toward her mound...  her jeans were split!  I started, popping up,
stared into her eyes.  She smiled, "I can get a new pair of jeans.., didn't
want to be too obvious." As I reached for my coffee mug, instinctively with
my right hand, she took my hand, saying, "Uh Uh," pulling it to the cut
hole in her pants, "get busy."

   Chrissy put my coffee mug to my lips, pouring the last of it into my
mouth.  I eagerly moved my first and second fingers into the hole of her
jeans...  and the hole beyond!

   While I began my fingering of her womanhood, Chrissy applied both her
hands to my shirt, lifting it.  "Mmm," she moaned, flicking one nipple,
suckling another.  We shifted, moving closer together.  I fucked her wet
hole with three fingers now.  She alternately sucked each of my nipples
while her hands busily worked my underpants down, without removing my
pants.

   Exposing my cock, freeing it almost completely, was no easy task.  Nor,
was it accomplished with quickness.  Like a lingering blow job, Chrissy
slowly deliberately brought my steel prick from my pants.  The scent of our
ready organs filled the air.

   Chrissy and I kissed, eagerly, wetly, tightly, loudly.  Her hands worked
my cock and balls.  My hands worked her pussy and tits.  In short time, I
applied both my hands to her hips, moving her over my thighs, slipping her
moist flower over my hard stamen.

   My cock slipped inside her folds easily.  "Ohh," she uttered, "y-Yes."
"Suh-Wheet," I moaned, taking a tit in my mouth as I penetrated her cunt
deeply.  My balls slapped against her ass, the denim of our jeans seeming
to vanish.  She held me to her chest, "Suck `m bay-bee." I obeyed...  you
bet your ass, I obeyed.

   Rather than riding my shaft vertically, Chrissy moved horizontally,
rocking in my lap.  Her clit worked over my cock head as her petals stroked
my sticky shaft.  "F-fuck, that's so," I sputtered, "GOOD." "Yeah, hun. 
Like it?" Yes!" Rock.  Squeeze.  Suck.  Lick.  Ride.

   Our breathing became quick, the air, hot and thick.  We kissed.  My
hands fondled her fleshy orbs.  Her hands held my head, roaming over it and
my shoulders at random.  Suddenly, she no longer rocked, she hopped. 
Chrissy rode my cock, squeezing it, her pelvis muscles working my rod like
a masturbating hand.  She was hot around my cock.  I became delirious, lost
inside her.

   "Holy Shit," I called.  "Oh, Frank, Fuck Me.  Just.., Damn.  Oh, Fuck.
Gonna..." "Yeah, Chrissy.  That's so fuckin' good.  Can't wait..."
"Almost..." "Cum!"

   Her pollen covered my cock, staining my pants, as I shot my load into
her.