The air was laced with the wonderful smell of coffee and pancakes. It’s all a lie, Sheila thought (rather bitterly) of the coffee, as she took a sip of her equally bitter coffee and tried to rub the sleep out of her eyes. The center’s kitchen was so humid that it almost put her to sleep; and the coffee so shitty you hardly wanted to drink it. It was not a good situation.
Sheila had been working in the centre kitchen for the past few months. The pay was fine, and the staff were friendly, altho the customers were not always.
She set her coffee down on the counter, hoping that one of the staff would ignore it rather than sweep it away in a flurry.
Putting on her best pleasant expression given the circumstances, Sheila went out to collect dishes and refill coffee. Her coworker, David, gave her a cheery smile and wave from the other end of the room.
She sighed in the middle of a sentence to a customer. Why did he always seem so awake?! It was terribly unfair.
Once the trays had been gathered, Sheila went about bussing tables and waitressing. David passed her down the aisle once on his way back to the kitchen. It was very crowded, and their hands were full. Sheila moved sideways so David could get past, but not quite fast enough. His knuckles brushed against her nipple through her shirt, which was extra unfortunate because she had forgotten to wear a bra. She took a quick break in the kitchen for a sip of shitty coffee and to cool her trembling nerves. A quick glance down at her shirt revealed that she still wasn’t ready to go back out. Impatiently, she poked her hard nipple into softness.
The next hour was hotter and harder. It only seemed to get worse. Sheila was rushing towards a table with a pot of coffee and a few glasses of chocolate milk when Marilla, the head chef, called for her. Flustered, Sheila turned her head to see what the matter was, still moving towards the table. At the same time, she ran flat into David’s chest and the trays in his arms, and the heel of her shoe broke. She fell flat on her back, glass smashing and liquid spilling all over the place. Unfortunately most of the (very hot) coffee splashed down the front of David’s white shirt. He fell forwards, nearly squashing her, but managed to catch himself just in time. Trays clattered. Shocked, Sheila could only sit there in the mess. Her blood was pumping heavy and thick in her veins.
“Are you all right?” David was looking down at her with concern. Of course he had gotten up before she had! He offered her a hand up, which she took, and stood shakily.
Sheila took a single step and fell onto the nearest table, which was, thankfully, empty.
“Whoa there, sunshine,” David said, concerned. “Take it easy for a minute. You’re probably in shock.”
“N-no,” Sheila replied. “I’m fine, really I am.”
With these words she stood up again and sank shakily into the broken glass on the floor in a dead faint. As she keeled over her skirt fell down over her hips, exposing her underwear. It was certainly a sight to see, and several customers gasped at her faint.
Marilla sighed in exasperation.
“David, go take her home,” the head chef commanded. “Clean yourself up. Make sure Sheila’s okay, and don’t leave her until you’re certain, do you understand? I can get some other servers in for the day.”
She waved her red hands impatiently, dismissing them.
David nodded seriously. He bent down and, while trying vainly to not look, drew Sheila’s skirt back down over her ass and lifted her into his arms. Her head lolled back, blonde curls spilling over his arm. Sheila’s body was soft and warm against his through their uniforms, and impossible to ignore.
“Thanks Marilla!” He called on his way out, Sheila draped over him like a damsel in distress. Marilla just clucked like the mother hen she was, and sent them out.
David brought Sheila to her own room in the lodge. He worked on groundskeeping every second day, so every room was accessible to him on a string of keys. As he pulled open the door carefully, he felt Sheila begin to stir and wake. She suddenly moved, and he tried hard to not drop her. In doing so, his hand squeezed her ass, hard, when he was looking for a handhold.
“Shit,” David swore, shutting and locking the door behind them. He laid her carefully on her bed, and sat next to her body, wondering how he could not possibly control himself and get rid of the raging hard-on he now had.
But first thing’s first, he thought. First aid. Have to see she’s all right.
When Sheila woke up, she had no idea where she was. Then she realized it was her room. Had the disaster all been a dream? And then she smelt rubbing alcohol, and someone humming near her, and felt a sting on her lower thigh. She sat up quickly.
David was on his hands and knees in front of her on the floor. He was tending to a cut on her thigh and humming.
“Well, well. I see SOMEONE has regained consciousness.” He winked. “How are you doing? Feel better?”
“I don’t know,” Sheila admitted.
“Are you nauseous?”
“Maybe just a little.”
“Take it easy. Don’t move very quickly at first. Give it some time.”
“When she moved to get up, he put both hands on her thighs and pushed her back into a sitting position.
“Oh, no you don’t. I’m not done.”
Obediently, Sheila stayed put. But then the phone rang, and she jerked to her feet to answer it.
“Sheila! Stay sitting please. Move one more muscle--and I’ll make sure you’ll remember it. Unless you like it when people bite you?” David suggested. He put his mouth close to her thigh and opened it, moved close...
“I won’t move,” she promised meekly, tingles moving up her leg and straight to her pussy. David nodded, satisfied, and closed his mouth into a smile.
“There’s a good girl.” But secretly, he was almost disappointed.
David finished inspecting her thighs. They seemed to be otherwise free of cuts, so he looked at her arms, which needed a few minor fixes.
He felt sheepish and rude to ask, but...
“Can you take off your skirt, Sheila?”
“Could you take it off or pull it up ... you might be injured underneath. I promised Marilla I’d make sure you were all right.”
“Well ... okay.” It was with little difficulty that Sheila bared her legs to him. There were no cuts, as expected, so the skirt was soon replaced.
“You might want to go shower,” David suggested. “Chocolate milk is sticky.”
“You, too!” Sheila protested. “That coffee must have burned you very badly.”
“Not really,” David replied.
“Oh yeah? I’m making sure,” the other insisted firmly, striding up to him and undoing the buttons on his ruined shirt quickly, as if she wanted him out of it as fast as possible.
Then Sheila slid the shirt down over his shoulders and down his arms, and it fell to the floor.
She was a little shocked at herself, her boldness, but she said, “Stay right here,” and bolted to the bathroom.
Very carefully she pressed the cold facecloth to each burn. Looking up at David’s face, she could see something different in his eyes. He wasn’t joking around anymore; there was something hungry and animal in them. After pressing the cloth to his last burn, Sheila bent forward and pressed a kiss on it, on David’s ribcage, and glanced up to see his eyes smouldering.