An Eye Full

An Eye Full
by David Cain

“I’ve got to run over to the bank, Gary. Keep an eye on things for me.” Ted saluted as he pushed open the backdoor of the restaurant.

“Sure, Ted,” said the young cook, tossing his spatula with a flip through the air. The heavy door slammed shut. “A dee os.”

Gary turned and opened the tall chrome refrigerator behind him, and inspected the boxes of frozen meat. “Should be plenty,” he said to himself, considering the evening ahead. He worked his way around the kitchen, checking for lettuce, bread and potatoes. He stirred the chicken stock on the small stove and took a quick taste.

“Hi, Gary,” said June, tying her red apron behind her waist. Walking around the chrome counter, Gary grabbed the thin brunette and kissed her. “Gary!” June said emphatically, laughing in his grasp. “Not now.”

“Ted’s gone. No one can see.” Gary nibbled her throat

“Not now!” she said, twisting free of his pawing hands. “Don’t make me report you.” June glared menacingly at the sandy-haired youth. Gary smiled stupidly.

“Aargh. You’ve won this battle, Miss Harper,” he said dramatically,walking back to start working on his soup. “But tomorrow night,after the movie, you’ll be singing a different tune, I think. Eh, my pretty? We shall see. We shall see.” Gary looked back at the waitress, and raised his eyebrows.

June straightened her black skirt beneath the thin apron and twisted her smile, as if questioning his provocative conclusion. “Tomorrow’s another day,” she finally said, and pushed the swinging doors to take her place on the floor.

“I’ll see you wanting me, my bony legged wench.” Gary said, remembering quite well the night before last when June had come over to his apartment, when she had simply thrown herself on him. Gary breathed deeply, indulging his hunger by recalling vividly the image of June straddling him on his sofa, grinding her cotton panties over the ridge beneath his trousers, lifting her t-shirt up to press her little tit in his mouth. Gary sighed and looked out the rectangular gap at the restaurant floor. June stood wiping ashtrays, talking with Alicia. If only Steve hadn’t picked that moment to come home. Gary adjusted his prick through his trousers as he stared at the thin girl, imagining the scrawny body beneath her uniform.

Gary put down his spatula and walked back to the men’s room. Closing the door, he unzipped his fly and fished out his heavy dick. A thick stream of piss shot into the bowl of the dingy toilet with a gurgle. Gary sighed as he relaxed in the release. He shook his sturdy prick when a door slammed. Gary smiled. Reaching over, he turned off the light and knelt down, carefully working his head beneath the small sink. His paper hat fell onto the floor. Gary pressed his eye to the jagged hole in the plaster surrounding the silver gleam of pipe. The trap felt cold against his cheek as he twisted to get a better view into the ladies room. She tossed a gym bag against the far wall and reached up to unsnap her jeans.

“Maureen’s changing her clothes,” thought Gary, “Sweet Jeezus.”

Of all the waitresses, Maureen was the Queen. Gary licked his dry lips, watching as she unzipped the deep blue denim. Absolutely gorgeous and unbelievably bitchy, Maureen invariably collected twice the tips any of her colleagues managed to get. She was invariably attentive, thoughtful and sickeningly sweet to the patrons. Gary longed to kiss the soft pucker of her belly-button as the creamy triangle of tummy appeared from behind the opened fly. Maureen tormented the rest of the staff with demands, insisting on perfection, tongue-lashing any bus boy who dared to complicate her mission.

She reached back and began to pull the jeans down from the back, slowly over the tightly gripped hips. Red welts of constriction marred her waist where the denim had bit her smooth skin. Gary twisted a little more, pushing his face hard against the wall, letting his cock hang into his hand’s grasp. The matted jungle of her pubic hair finally slipped into view and the jeans began to descend more rapidly. The thick scent of sex permeated the small bathroom. Gary’s prick turned to steel.

Maureen stepped out of her jeans, while Gary stroked his cock steadily, amazed at the vision. She stood up straight and folded her jeans. The lips of her cunt were a dull red, puffy, wedged between the crease of her lean thighs. Maureen placed her folded pants on the toilet and stood a moment. Gary held his breath. Long, delicate fingers played with the patch of golden fine hair, combing the curls with her coral pink nails, working the snarls from the floss. Gary noticed a faint white stain, a dried dollop of salt just below her navel. Maureen rubbed at her pussy, a quick furious flurry and when her fingers moved away, Gary stared at the pink nub of her freshly aroused clit.

“Mmm,” Maureen murmured, grinding her hips slightly, “tonight he’s going to lick me, or that’s the end for him. I won’t be left unsatisfied forever.” Gary jerked his cock wildly.

Maureen turned around. Gary’s heart pounded with a dangerous intensity as he stared at her round, high ass, white and gleaming in the sharp incandescent light. She leaned over to unzip her gym bag, pressing the scarlet lips of her pussy thick between her creamy thighs, glistening damp in the furrow. Maureen bent down further and a short burst of air erupted from within her pink hole. A thick white drop drizzled slowly down her thigh. The dark dot of her asshole winked between the heavy globes of her bottom. Gary felt the excitement welling within him, anxious to explode.

Maureen stood up and stepped into her black skirt. As she lifted the linen up over the roundness of her ass, Gary noticed the heavy pink stain of fingered slaps over the creamy flesh of her right cheek. “Oh my my” he said, imaging some hung stud fucking Maureen from behind and smacking her pretty bottom. Maureen zipped the skirt and turned around as she adjusted the waistband. Gary smiled, realizing the import of the crimson circles below Maureen’s knees. She sat down on the lid of the john and pulled black thigh-highs up the length of her lean legs.

Maureen lifted off her t-shirt as she stood again. Gary shifted to get a peek at the dark circles of her nipples, tightening in the cool air. Her heavy breasts hung low, full soft liquid tits drooping as she picked up her starched white blouse and lace bra. Gary rubbed his hard prick angrily as the last glimpse of Maureen’s beautiful secrets vanished behind the cups of her brassiere.

“She’s not wearing panties,” he thought. “Wouldn’t the guys go wild if they knew that.” Gary stroked himself, delighted.

“Gary,” said Ted as the door opened and a flood of light rushed into the dark bathroom

“No,” said Gary, trying to hide his throbbing cock while he stood. He smacked his head hard against the sink and fell back onto the floor with a scream of pain.

“What in the hell is going on in here?” he heard Ted shout. Voices of howling laughter and enraged shrieks echoed through Gary’s aching head. Another light went on. Someone shoved him deeper into the bathroom and helped him to stand. The door had been closed, but the laughter continued to pour through the thin wall. “Get your pants on and then get your ass into my office,” growled Ted.

Gary sat down in the plastic chair, his face blazing with shame, his thoughts lost in the buzz of confusion. Ted began to yell at him, profoundly, angrily, seriously, speaking a language of fury that Gary hardly understood. He heard Ted tell him he was fired and he stood up to go. The other cook, Jack, ran over as Gary picked up his jacket.

“Were you peeking Maureen? I want to hear.” Jack whispered quickly.

“Back on the line, Sampson” howled Ted.

“Lucky shit,” said Jack with a laugh.

Gary walked between the racks of cups, glancing over at the floor of the restaurant. June glared murderously at him. Gary tried to think of something to say, but pushed open the back door and stepped outside.

As he walked home, Gary’s spirits sank. A dry wind bit at his face. He climbed the stairs to his apartment. Everything, it seemed, had gone wrong. Gary dreaded looking for another job, applications and interviews which would want to know why he had been fired. He could still hear the laughter, could still feel the heat of his shame. June would never forgive him. She cared too much about appearances to let something like this slide. Gary tossed his keys on his dresser and fell despondently into bed.

“Fuck,” he said. “What an awful day.” Gary hugged his pillow for a moment, trying to drown out the sound of the mocking laughter, the ridiculous moment when he’d been lying on the dirty bathroom floor, his dick shriveling with the pain, hearing the girls screaming at him, furiously.

And he remembered the bend, the beautiful moment when Maureen had bent over to pick up her skirt, when the lips of her pussy shimmered just two feet away, so wet, so hungry, so soft and so fine. Gary unzipped his pants and he smiled.

About David Cain

David Cain, literary author, bon vivant, rogue romantic poet - author of Witch, Song of Songs, Journals of Lord Malinov, Erotic Romances and others ...
This entry was posted in books, erotica, fiction, literature, literotica, personal, short stories, writing and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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