Paul punched out first, but he waited for Laura.

“Look, Laura, do you think you could give me a ride home? My car’s in the shop, and the buses don’t run this late any more.”

“Sure,” she replied. “If nothing else, I owe you for telling me about that vacancy.” The conversation on the ride there was desultory. At least traffic caused no problems at one in the morning. Parking was a pain then, though; everybody else had made their choices hours before. And she was happy enough to have his company on the three-block walk back. “I’ve never had any problems in the neighborhood, Paul, but I’ll admit that I feel more comfortable walking beside a six-foot guy this time of night.”

“In that case,” Paul said, “I’ll walk you to your door. Least I can do. Never heard of muggers in the neighborhood, but that’s no comfort if you meet the first one.” So, they walked past his building and came to hers. When she dug the key out, she had another thought.

“Want to come up? Have a nightcap? Drinking alone is not only the road to ruin, it’s damn lonely.”

“Don’t want to wake Fred.”

“Fred is old news.” She was glad, most ways. And she was glad to let Paul know. Then she shook herself mentally. Paul didn’t care. She was a coworker, not a date.

“Sorry to hear that.” Actually, he wasn’t. Before he was old news, Fred had been bad news. But the way to lose a friend was to criticize her taste in men. Besides, it would sound like he thought he would have been a better choice -- jealousy. And, although that was a little bit true, ‘cause it was a little bit true, he didn’t want to give her that idea. “I’d love a drink.”

Upstairs in the kitchen, she gave him a bottle of beer and a clean glass. With a lady, he would drink from a glass.

“I gave him the gate,” she said. “Too bad I gave him so much else first, but I got wise.”

“Never knew what you saw in him. ‘Course I didn’t see him all that much -- block party and company picnic.”

“You are the wrong sex to see his good points. He was good in bed -- a pig in the dining room, useless in the kitchen, but good in bed. After a while it wasn’t enough. Why’m I telling you this? It’s not like I’m drunk. I’ve barely started the first beer.” “I asked. Maybe you’re telling yourself. Maybe you’re ready to tell someone, and I’m here. Trouble with swing shift. You don’t have many people to talk to. Anyway, I can tell you, some of the guys were jealous of him. Lots of guys like your looks.” Especially your’s truly. But he was in her apartment drinking her beer -- furthest he’d gotten. There was no sense in coming on too strong.

“Don’t seem to act on it.”

“Don’t turn around fast when you’re walking through the plant. You’d see a lot of guys looking your way. Gals make it hard on us. Say ‘Hello gorgeous,’ and I’m a pig that you’d never even talk to friendly. Don’t say it, and I’m a guy who doesn’t think you’re gorgeous. Lose either way.”

“You really think I’m good looking?”

“Fred break your mirrors? You should know you’re good looking. You might be the prettiest girl in the plant, but you don’t look approachable. Dot, now, gets more wolf whistles. That’s ‘cause Dot likes wolf whistles. You get told about available apartments. That way I get to see you in the neighborhood without you thinking I’m vulgar.” And then she moved in with a handsome guy who dressed fancy. He got to see her being romantic with a guy he couldn’t compete with.

“That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” And he hasn’t finished his beer, either. That can’t be what’s doing the talking.

“As long as you think it’s nice. I’d say a lot more if I thought you’d like it.”

“You could try and see.”

“Tell you what. Give me a take-back on the last one. I’ll say things ‘til you think it’s no longer nice. Tell me, and we’ll both forget the last one. Deal?”

“Sounds like a deal.”

“You have a nice face.”

“I still like it.”

“That isn’t what the guys look at, though.” He paused for her to tell him he was out of line.

“Sounds fascinating.” She noticed he’d gone from what he liked to what ‘the guys’ liked.

“We like -- uh -- what you’re sitting on.” she didn’t look offended. “We look more at that than at your top, but that’s partly ‘cause you’d catch us looking at the front. I wouldn’t say that to you in public, y’know. But I’ve said it to other guys. They sorta agreed.” Whatever promises she made, he wasn’t going to say ‘great ass’ to her face.

So the guys liked her tits and ass. No great surprise. So did he, which was nice to know. How far would he go? How far did she want him to go? However glad she was to have seen the back of Fred, she missed him sometimes at this time of night. Then Paul got up. She was about to tell him that she wasn’t offended.

“Look,” he asked. “Same deal? Take-backs on the last?”

“Sure!” What would he say now? Instead of saying anything, he bent over and kissed her, full on the mouth! She got up.

“Well, I’ve wanted to do that for a year. You said you’d let me take it back, and you’d forget it.” Well she wasn’t about to forget that kiss.

“That was for only something I didn’t like.” She stood quietly and looked at him. He covered the inches between them and held her shoulders while he kissed her again. As he kissed her, his hands slowly strayed down her back. She didn’t resist when he pulled her against him. When his hands got to her ass, he quickly brought them back to her waist. She felt her breasts pressed into his chest and him hardening against her stomach. He finally pulled back.

“Want to take these into the living room?” she asked.

“I don’t care.” Which wasn’t really what he meant. If she was in the living room with him, he didn’t care about the beer. He poured the last of the bottle into his glass and left it on the kitchen table when he followed her. She sat down on the couch, and spread some coasters around a coffee table in font of it. He put his glass on one coaster and sat down to her right on the couch. Both glasses and her bottle were sitting on the coasters and out of their hands.

“Do you want another bottle?” she asked. She saw that his must be empty.

“No.” Now that he had her beside him, he sure didn’t want her leaving him, even for that short a trip. He held her right hand in his. When she looked towards him, he leaned over for a kiss. He meant to make it easily avoidable, but she leaned towards him, too. The kiss was sweet. When she squeezed his hand, he dared to push his tongue towards hers.

The touch of his tongue tip on hers gave Laura a surprising thrill. Had Fred’s kisses been as sexy as this? When Paul moved back, she almost followed him. When he put his arm around her, she was glad she hadn’t.

“Laura.” He was staring into her eyes. Such sexy eyes, and she looked so honest, too. She had a good butt and great boobs. What really distinguished her, however, was her sweet face. Even at the end of the shift, she looked fresh.

He said her name and then sat looking at her. The fierce look frightened her, but she couldn’t look away. When he finally pulled her into another kiss, she was glad to cooperate -- not only because of the kiss but because now she didn’t have to meet his eyes. Meeting his tongue, now, that was sweet. And it was thrilling, carrying her away. She hadn’t gone too far away to feel his hands stroke her breasts, but she’d gone far enough that this added to the thrill.

“Oh Laura,” he repeated when he moved back. Had he gone too far? Not from the look she gave him. He was intensely conscious of his prick hardening in his pants, uncomfortably so. But he wasn’t about to turn from her to adjust it. Besides, he didn’t want her to think that it was only his prick that wanted her. He pulled her close again to kiss all over her face. When he eased her back, it was to begin unbuttoning her shirt.

Did she want this? He would stop if she told him to. But she didn’t want him to stop -- pause, maybe, long enough for more kisses -- but definitely not stop. When her shirt was half unbuttoned, she started on his.

Laura was accepting this. More than that, she acted as if she wanted him, too. When he got to the last button he could reach on her shirt, he pulled her into another kiss. He moved the kiss to the side of her face, her ear, the side of her neck, her shoulder. When he got to the bra strap, he pushed it down. He was in paradise until she pushed him back. Well, he’d said he would stop. But it was hard as hell to do so.

Paul was wonderful at kisses. He wasn’t so good at undressing a girl. This could take the rest of the night. She pushed him back to get her own clothes. She unbuckled her belt and loosened the waist of her slacks to free the last of the shirt. Then she got the last two buttons and removed the whole thing. Should she do the bra? Who was she fooling? Not him, certainly not herself.