My Story

Hey! I know you!


After a while I kind of got tired of Sara talking about people she knew at work, but that I had no idea who they were. I put in an application to work at Carls Jr. with her, not really intending to work there as it was already May and I had a seasonal job at the local water park that I returned to every summer. I’m not sure what it is with me and applications, but employers can’t resist calling me for interviews. However, this particular employer didn’t have very many social skills (at least none that I could see in the five second conversation we first had). Mary called me up and asked me if I were available to come in around 3 pm for an interview. I told her that no I wasn’t because I already had a job to go to that afternoon. And that was the end of that conversation. She said, “Thanks, OK. Bye.” And hung up before I could say goodbye and thanks for the thought.
For the rest of the summer I put Carls Jr. out of my mind, as much as I could anyway with my friend Sara telling me all about her problems at work. By summer’s end I applied for a job at Diary Queens and got it (Quick Tip: don’t apply, the owner is an ass). Here I am in need of a job and Sara has to go and tell me about the latest catastrophe at Carls Jr.
(Ding, Ding, Ding, I put in an application there didn’t I?) I called up the restaurant and asked to speak with the on duty manager and was told to call back in about an hour (I had called during their lunch rush after all). Mary later told me to come in the next afternoon for a 1:30 pm interview.
The interview takes all of five minutes and all we do is bash the owner of Diary Queens (she had heard some rumors that he wasn’t so nice to work with). At the end of the interview I’m hired and she wantsknowknow if I can stay for another hour or so for an orientation she’s giving to another newby. Orientation took about ten times longer than the interview but it was okay, I knew the other new employee (newby). An old friend of mine from elementary, Armando Gonsalvez. We were having a grand old time making fun of the G-rated how-to films (When putting down French fries into the grease, please make sure you push the button designated for the product. Let’s see how Binky does it, shall we? GAAAAH!!).
Personally I don’t think that Aramando was going to make it. He kind of had this reputation of leaving early from school and not attending. Also I had heard a couple horror stories of what he used to do at his other work places. But I wasn’t going to ruin someone’s chance of earning a buck or two. Actually I didn’t really have to, he did it all himself. He wouldn’t show up for work on time or at all and didn’t have an excuse handy.
Mary started me out as opening with Mark Raimondi and her assistant manager John Ramirez. Mark was my ‘tutor’ I guess you could say. Not to brag or anything, but I’m a fairly quick learner and by the end of the day I could make almost all of the items on the menu and quote you prices on about half of ‘em. Come on! It’s fast-food, it wasn’t meant to be hard work (physically or mentally). The hardest part was learning everyone’s name and keeping track of what shifts they usually worked. The only reason why this was the most difficult is because fast-food restaurants have one of the highest turn-overs there is. Employees came in and went out just as quickly. Although there was this one employee who would not get the hint that the owners wanted to let him go. You know, they would start to cut his hours to about 5-10 a week and then he would always be the first one to be let go after the rush; or sometimes during it. He wasn’t a very quick learner and was under our feet more often than not. This particular employee gradually disappeared.
The employees that stuck around the longest I do remember quite fondly, in most cases. Some of the remaining got promoted, myself included. But after being promoted lost their zeal and quit as fast as they could. I confess I did quit after about half a year as a shift leader. However, I wasn’t the only one. A couple of people I kept in contact with were Liz, Chris, Sara, Rachelle, Josh and Ilia. Josh, Sara and Rachelle never got promoted but that was because of attitudinal differences. Liz, well they transferred her to another store before she quit. Apparently you can’t have boyfriend and girlfriend working at the same location, even if they are working different shifts. Ilia left on maternity leave and just came up with excuse after excuse not to come back. Not that I blame her; they had her working up to a month and a half before her child was born.
Anyway, I left to look for better work. In a town like this, not such an easy job I tell you. With those I kept in contact with, I instigated a volleyball team and called everyone I knew to see if they would play. Jesse was a past school opponent. She was an eagle and I was a hornet (school mascots). Yeah! Someone who actually knows how to play. Trust me there weren’t that many on the team. The other player with practical experience was my friend Nicole. We used to play together for Club Shasta (a traveling volleyball team). The guyssh ash and Chris, were all testosterone (ball hoggers). The other members; Liz, Becky, Sara and Sam (my mom) were passable but shanked more than hit the target area. By the end of the season we had no losses, but we were still ranked with the lower level playing teams.
Oh! Before I forget; Liz and Chris broke up just before Chris left Carls Jr. He started going out with this high school senior Becky, a fellow volleyball team member. Josh used to go out with Michelle, a fellow coworker of mine from the local water park. She broke up with him and is now going out with the head cook from the water park’s kitchen staff, Gary. As far as I know Josh now works at Round Table, he was fairly unreliable when it came to showing up for the games.
Well, Volleyball is now over and so is my seasonal job at the water park. I’m back working at Carls Jr. and am currently attending our local community college on Tuesdays and Thursdays from t 8 t 8 am to 1 pm. Occasionally I’ll see Chris and Becky walking between classes. None of us have the same lunch time. We just wave and smile. I haven’t seen either of them lately. Maybe that’s because I overslept after a late night shift, but who’s asking?
No one really knows this about me, but I am highly sexual. Nott I’t I’m sexy or anything (I’m not butt ugly either), it’s just that I love to pleasure myself. Masturbation rocks! I first started out with a finger lightly grazing the field, but after a while it didn’t do anything for me. Plus I would have to read raunchy romance scenes at the same time. Now, well I have two vibrators and I read adult fiction. Adult fiction is the magazines you buy at the adult stores, but I don’t really look at the pictures, it’s the words that thrill me. I alsod thd the stories at this fantastic site I found. It’s called Adultfanfiction.net After reading a couple of the stories, I just had to write a few stories of my own. And I have. I personally like my story about Kagome and Miroku best.
The past couple of mornings have been kind of weird. I would read a couple of adult fiction stories before going to bed, so I guess no visions of sugar plums were dancing in my head (though something was sure going on). My body would wake up as if ready and raring to go. I’m so aroused by what I can’t remember. Well…I don’t remember most of it anyway. Lately the details have been getting clearer and clearer. I’ll tell you what I can remember, but it’s all kind of hazy.
It starts out with Becky being onstage for a theatre performance (Don’t ask: I don’t know which one) and me and her boyfriend; my friend, Chris sitting by each other in the audience. It’s fairly dark out and Chris and I are sitting far enough away from the stage that the lights aren’t glaring into our eyes and so that no one else is sitting behind us (our college theatre performance aren’t very well attended).
Chris and I aren’t lovey dovey friends. We don’t compliment each other or things like that. It’s more of insulting each other just for the fun of doing so. Every chance we get we are teasing and making fun of the other. For me, it’s pretty much my mode of operation. Don’t blame me it’s the environment I grew up in (my whole family is that way; we only say ‘I love you’ when we want something, or on the holidays).
We were making fun of a particularly botched up scene and we were leaning into our guffaws a little too much. Our torsos lent over towards the others and before too long we got that look in our eyes. You know the look. It’s where one or the other has the intent of kissing the other but doesn’t know what the other’s reaction may be. We didn’t kiss, much to my disappointment. I guess the tragedy unfolding on stage was comedic enough to get a laugh out of the audience members, cause that was the commotion that broke our eye contact.
But just because we didn’t kiss then doesn’t mean that the rest of the show was a little awkward. It was. We kept on laughing nervously and gently chiding the other. We kept our distances for the most part. That didn’t last long. It seemed as if we were magnetic opposites or something. We had to have a body part here or there in contact. It was innocent contact at first. My hands were on the grassy area and Chris’s hands were the same. Although they kept creeping closer and closer to each other. At contact I gasped and we both turned to look at the other then our hands and then away. We didn’t look at each other again, but out hands kept in contact.
Fingers caressing grew into hands caressing arms. Chris’s hand moved to my uncovered thigh. I tensed up but allowed it to continue. He lightly fluttered his fingers over my thigh as they moved higher and higher. You’ve just got to love the feel of his warm, tan, muscled skin. My hand had by now reached under his shirt to lightly play along his taught abs. Occasionally grazing across the lip of his pants.
By now I was really beginning to hate the audience as they all stood up laughing and clapping at the conclusion of the first half. Only one person was allowed back stage at a time and only for a certain amount of time so I slid quickly in and wished Becky good luck for the rest of her performance and then slid right back out. Feeling kind of guilty for the grope fest with Chris. I walked by and told him that Becky was expecting him. As he walked by Chris leaned in towards me and whispered in my ear, “Okay, thanks.” That lovely hand of his had light caressed my backside and slipped under the top of my skirt and the elastic of myini ini style underwear. The jerk let the elastic snap back and then walked off with a smirk. ‘Oh was he so going to get a payback for that.’
I left the back stage area with a smile on my face and a naughty thought in my head. You’ll find out later, I promise!
Tired of waiting for Chris to get back I head towards our seats but stand just inside the clearing. You have a nice view of everything from there. But apparently not a view from what’s behind you. Chris crept up behind me and scared the bejeebies out of me when he whispered, “Boo!” in my ear. I leapt up a little (along with the skirt). Damn! Chris had found out my little trick for him. Well, from his look it might be a treat. Either way his hands were at my waist pulling me back into the shadows and here I am with no underclothes.
We weren’t supposed to be making much noise (hello? There’s a performance going on here), but who could resist a couple of groans here and there as hands cintointo contact with other body parts? Not me. Granted, I had had some practice at keeping the noise level at a minimum (I’ve never lived on my own). But, Damn! His hands lifting up my skirt and trailing along my nether parts deserved a moan or two. Scant seconds later I heard the hiss of a zipper (guess who’s?). Got to love that sound.
I couldn’t turn around or someone might have noticed the two of us snogging. I mean someone has to keep up the pretense of watching the show. (It kind of stank) Anyway on with the real show. Hands almost big enough to suggest other big parts pulled me back more. If he pulled me back much farther, we would have become one being he was holding me so close. To help with the pretense, both of us weren’t kissing either. Somehow the only contact between us being our hands and nether parts heightened our desires more than if we were.
Should have warned you earlier, but I’m not very patient. Soon the groping hands and bare parts weren’t enough. I reached behind me and got a hold of the star of our show (Never did find out what his name for it was). Couldn’t leave the little guy all by himself, I just had to find out where this guy belonged. It just so happened to be that his home was with me. With a lift of the skirt, a grunt and a groan later our star was happy. At least I thought so, but no matter how much I tried to hold on to him, he wanted to keep testing how many times I would take him back. Seemed as if I would take him back no matter how many times he tried to leave. He would get to the entrance and then decide he couldn’t go any further and came back to me with a vengeance each time. Boy to those boys have stamina.
I’m glad to say that although the scheduled performance was a stinker the impromptu one was a big hit. At least that was what I dreamed. In reality he could be a stinker as well. Somehow, I just don’t think so. But I will probably never act on my dreams. But if the situation comes up I wouldn’t back down either.
A/N: Good night and sweet dreams.