Milkshakes at Carlos – Emery Ch. 03

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Doggy Style

Heat wave

Over the few following days, the local radio called for a weather alert statement: a heat wave was expected to bring the temperature up to 40 degrees all across Ontario for approximately two weeks, scattered with some episodes of your usual stormy weather that ensues and hot rainfalls here and there. I know how it can get brutally hot here in the kitchen when that happens. You still sweat profusely, making you wonder if you’re not dripping down in the food you’re serving.

Over summer in general, our lousy portable air conditioning unit in the kitchen barely made a difference. It spins so much, it smells like burning rubber. So during severe heat, all it did was stink and make a racket.

And because my grill didn’t have any ventilated hood range, most windows had to be opened, especially the one at the order counter.

During that kind of weather, you make friends with the walk-in freezer, when you need a quick way to cool off. Even when I don’t need to go in there, I cheat and let the biting cold soothe me. 5 seconds were usually all I needed. And you can’t stay in for too long, and not too often. It’d be the perfect recipe to catch another cold.

So I had to prepare to beat not only the heat, but the onslaught of customers, ordering ice cream cones and milkshakes by the ton! The grill gets a little less busy, so maybe I’d even have to jump in and help at the front of the house.

Come Monday morning, I got out of bed and felt the air already thick with humidity. I slept naked, out of the covers, because even my apartment had no A/C. Incapacitated by the heat, to the point of being unable to remember what day it is, this one thought still managed to cross my mind: why did it seem like air conditioning was such a luxury that not everyone can afford? As an extreme measure, I opted to wear shorts instead of the usual chef pants, and nothing under my apron, as a way to try and keep as cool as possible. My grill, and its fireworks of burning grease, was a constant reminder that I was not allowed to even consider such fashion escapades.

Now… Emery, on the other hand, sure wasted no time to take advantage of that freedom. With that kind of heat, I didn’t doubt for a second that she’d come into work in the morning, wearing light, airy, and most likely quite revealing clothes. Besides, the work conditions in this dump weren’t going to make anyone in their right mind go and tell her to cover up, not with this heat. I sure wasn’t going to.

Turned out she went for all sorts of beach attire. One day it was some sort of weaved off-shoulder beach shirt and denim shorts, with what seemed like a black bikini top underneath; some other time, she only had tiny cargo shorts with what I assumed was more of a bodysuit that looked like a one-piece swimsuit. Again, no bra there.

The one that blew my mind the most was that time she wore a red and pink sundress. She was pretty like a sunset. The top of her dress was very adjusted, which I guess allowed her to not bother with a hot bra for the day. The bottom part was rather loose, and flowing, and the fabric was see-through, enough that when she walked, I could see her firm, sexy calves perched on a pair of mid-heeled sandals. Her hair was done in one long single braid that day, with no hat on her head. She looked very refined and classy.

Yup. It seemed like Emery was now on a mission to knock the wind out of me. I had to act casual, as if this was all just a proverbial walk in the park, but where the scenery, that she let me enjoy as much as I wanted, was so breathtaking that it’d be so hard not to make a fucking point about it. It made things really exciting, and rather tense, but in a good way. I could work with that. That was how we somehow agreed to do things, now.

As it went, the heat would get heavier and heavier, making my nights very hard to sleep through. It was on days like this that made me wish that I lived in a basement. That whole restlessness made me drag an intense lethargy back to work, making the heat even more unbearable. And, well, on top of that, my colleague’s distracting outfits sure gave me the impression I was daydreaming!

At least, she was there to cheer me up with her little bubbly self. I wasn’t too sure of the conditions she lived in, but she sure looked like she was getting her beauty sleep.

The diner was bouncing today. It was a good thing I didn’t have to cook too much, since I was mostly busy helping Emery with the cold bar. She kept sending me outside to the walk-in freezer to fetch fruits, and ice cream all the time. I was afraid to catch a damn cold again: I kept going from hot and sweaty, to cold and shivering.

Later, I wondered if the real reason why Emery would send me to the freezer was because she didn’t want to get cold. She wasn’t wearing much: just a tiny pair of denims with a black Sepultura crop top, that looked like she cut it herself. It was so short, it was threatening to lift at every moment, and show some underboob. Though, the cute red suspenders she had today really did the trick to hold everything in place.

Later almanbahis adresi that day, I had to go fetch some fries in the freezer. As I was tossing bags around on the floor, counting how much I had left, the door opened behind me.

‘Oh, there you are.’ Emery said. ‘I thought you were on break… Um, can you get me some strawberry jam, please? The other bucket is empty, I need to get another one to thaw ASAP.’

‘Um, yeah, sure.’ I replied absently, stepping over the fries and reaching the very top shelf for the jam.

I could already hear Emery’s teeth chattering, shuddering under the biting cold. I tried to make it quick: not only was she already freezing, but there was no one else in the kitchen right now.

‘Good thing you’re taller than me.’ she said, trembling. ‘I thought I was gonna have to get all the way up there to get it.’

I was still very much out of reach, on the tip of my toes. After the effort, I finally turned her way to hand her the jam. I looked down at her and realized she was dripping wet with red sticky stuff, all over her hair, her shirt and on her bare belly.

‘Um… woah, Emery what happened? What’s that all over you?’

‘Strawberry jam.’

We both burst out in laughter, our breath coming out in frosted clouds.

‘Oooh, so that’s why you need a new bucket?’

‘Yeah, I forgot to take the bucket away from the mixer, I had a huge order and was kind of in a rush. The mixer shoved it right off the counter when I started it, as you can guess, sending strawberry jam-‘

‘-all over the floor?’ I replied, finishing her sentence.

‘-and the walls, and the cabinets, and… myself.’

She looked at me with her bright blue eyes. How could I get mad?

‘Right. Well, I guess I’ll bring the mop, then.’ I smiled back, sighing. ‘But… wait, what about your shirt? You’re all gunky.’

‘Yeah, so about that…’

There was no time to spare. It took us another moment to think of a solution before we headed back to the customers: we had to figure out what she was going to wear. Though I had a feeling she was going to come up with another one of those dirty thoughts from the back of her head, again. Deeming her shirt too dirty to work with sounded like she was secretly going to take the opportunity to drive me crazy, and make the shift a little more interesting.

Turned out that all I had to spare for her was one of my clean aprons. She accepted right off the bat, without questioning it too much, and went to change at the picnic table. When she came back in, I saw the result, and I knew it was time to get my hormone level soaring again. She had completely taken off the top; not even her white bra had been spared! She was going to have to wash it when she got home, along with her top.

As you can imagine, aprons aren’t necessarily considered clothing, but more like an accessory. In that case, the front was covering so little skin, since it was all she wore up top. Despite her big jugs spilling out at the sides, allowing a whole lot of side boob showing, her chest was still held in tightly from the 2 only little ties in her back. I didn’t think there was a risk of them popping out, but I definitely knew there was going to be a risk of me procrastinating for the rest of the day.

We both thought it was a little much, and she blushed a good deal when I pointed at the obviousness of the sides of her tits showing. She was laughing uncontrollably at the beginning, deeming the whole thing “a little uncomfortable”, but she ended up owning it. What might have helped her was the fact that a lot of customers were kind enough to give her a needed boost of confidence by joking around about it, assuming she had to come to desperate measures because of the insane heat.

She was still blushing when she went home. As she drove off, I was picturing other people driving by her car and noticing this scantily clad hottie at the wheel. I sincerely hoped she wouldn’t cause too many car wrecks.

She promised she’d bring back the apron, and I promised myself never to get it washed Ahahah!

The heat wave carried on. The following days called for a mixed bag of thick humidity, and some risks of severe thunder. The overcast that would accompany all this was sure going to be welcome, keeping the sun from hammering us on the head. But the suffocating humidity was no better. It made it hard to think and move, let alone your clothes that clung to you, wet and irritating.

Those sadistic bastards… Just for the fun of confusing everybody, the weather channel called for equal chances of heavy rain and burning sun. The good old 50% mark! How was I supposed to know how much food I had to plan for, today? The diner always gets deserted when there’s too much rain. Hoping that, if it ever did rain, it wouldn’t last too long. Most of our tables have parasols and, well, when it rains horizontally, people gather under the canopies, waiting it out. But who likes to stand there with plates in their hands?

Emery came in, wearing a tight plain white t-shirt, with some 3/4 red capris. Wow, she sure almanbahis adres brought out the bling, today: silver loop earrings, a bunch of chain necklaces and studded leather bracelets. As I allowed myself a second closer look, I wondered: did she… buy a new bra? Maybe like one of those push-up ones? Fuck, she was so hot. It seemed to me that her jugs were pushed up way higher than ever. That white shirt wasn’t yielding much cleavage, but it did a great job of outlining her curves in general, complimenting her equally tight capris. It showcased her glorious ass to perfection.

Just like another day at the office, the morning dragged on, with my mind being anywhere but here. I couldn’t quite get as many glimpses of Emery as I would’ve liked. I felt a little drawn back. From my station, during regular traffic, I usually couldn’t pay too much attention to the surroundings, because of the wall of ongoing, steady noises around me. And that buzzing AC unit sure didn’t help. When Emery needed something, not only she had to yell sometimes but she had to make sure I could read her lips. On top of that, the sound of traffic was mostly muffled. I liked hearing the shutting of car doors, when I could. It was a good indicator of how many people parked to get here. On the side of this busy parkway, Carlos’ Diner was the only place in the proximity that caused people to stop their car and get off.

One other thing I couldn’t usually hear was… thunder. If there were dark, looming clouds coming our way, Emery and I had to keep an eye out, in case it got too crazy windy. We had to go pick up trays, close the parasols, and shut the windows.

It was always Emery that saw it coming, having a direct look at the sky from her station.

But today, she didn’t need to tell me… I felt it.

A heavy rumble manifested itself in the walls of the bus, making the plates and the milkshake cups chiming in the shelves.

‘Um… Brian?’ yelled Emery. ‘Looks like there’s a giant wall of rain that’s coming our way from across the river.’

She was not exaggerating. You couldn’t even see the buildings across the river. It was dark and humid outside. My hair felt charged with static electricity and I felt this hot wind coming through the window.

‘Holy, shit. I think everyone’s leaving, look.’ said Emery. ‘Even the kids are freaking out.’

‘Um… I’ll get the parasols and the garbage, can you do the condiments and pick up the trays?’

‘Oh, geez, let’s make a run for it!’ she squealed, excitedly.

We both stepped out and looked around to analyze. I noticed a few drops had already started hitting the ground. The rain was very close. Although, it felt like actual thunder was still far. I couldn’t see lightning. Sometimes, storm cells are concentrated somewhere else. Maybe we’d get lucky and the actual lightning storm would pass by further down south.

We dashed out at the same time and started running around. I was already sweating badly, I can’t say I was feeling my best to start running and sweat even more. I was actually welcoming the cooling little drops of rain falling on my head.

Then, in no time, white noise came and ropes would start falling from the sky. I heard Emery squeal and laugh at the surprise. My parasols were dealt with quickly. I was already drenched, though I still went around, checked for what was left outside, walking more than running, now. Turned out Emery had a whole lot more to do. There were still condiment trays to be picked up.

‘Thanks, Brian!’ she yelled. ‘I’ll go get those last ones by the road.’

Those tables, wayyyyy back there, were actually a little far. We weren’t risking it too much yet for thunder. Still, the hot rain came down in sheets. And there was Emery, taking her sweet time. She looked fully drenched as well.

I chucked my condiment trays inside the bus, making my soggy socks go “squish squish” every step I took.

I went back out, not caring about the rain anymore. Everything around me was muffled, slowed down. There was only white noise and this thick fog coming out of the hot black pavement of the dining area. It was surreal, as if I was standing in a vast sauna. We couldn’t even see the road anymore.

Then, through my wet hair, and eyelashes dripping with rainwater, I saw the hazy silhouette of this creature coming my way. It was Emery, materializing out of the steam.

Carrying her trays under her arms, she swayed and swerved her hips left and right lasciviously, like a feline. She finally stopped in front of me. Her face was bearing the most sultry and torrid expression I’ve seen her have before. She was soaked head to toe: mascara was running down her cheeks and… her white t-shirt was completely transparent, revealing that leopard print bra. Her massive jugs were crammed beyond belief into that tight little space. Her cleavage… was insane.

‘So… new bra, Emery?’


I was fucking shaking. I wanted to sound smart, but could only think of talking about the obvious truth in front of me.

‘Fuck… wh… what, um, can I – can I ask y – I almanbahis adresi was wondering, how-?’ I stuttered.

‘Let me guess. You wanna know what size they are?’

‘Y… yeah, um yes.’

‘I’m a fucking 36H, Brian.’ she said, making a little curtsy.

‘Oh.’ was all I could mutter, nonchalantly.

Though this little piece of data sent another torrent of blood to my already swollen member.

36H. Unbelievable…

She looked at me, waiting for my reaction, or lack thereof. Despite all that rain and that steam, the fire in her eyes still burned on.

‘So, there you go. Looks like we got our own little wet t-shirt contest.’ she shrugged. ‘What do I win?’

‘My unmatched admiration.’ I said, monotone.

‘Ahahha, thanks, cheesy.’ she scoffed.

‘But… you know, the whole point of that contest is… to allow the crowd to see the girl’s breasts through the wet shirt.’ I said, trying hard to swallow.

‘Why’s that?’ she pouted. ‘I thought you’d have loved to see me in my new bra?’

She said that, but she knew exactly what I wanted. She wanted it too.

Emery looked around, most likely to confirm that we were in fact, completely camouflaged. And alone. Everyone had left, as expected.

She put down the trays on a table nearby and, slowly, her hands went to reach for the hem of her shirt. This was happening. Her sheer intention transfixed me instantly. I couldn’t move.

Locking her eyes into mine, making sure I looked at her, she started to undress. She made sure I looked at every inch of her bare skin being slowly revealed. In order to show her leopard bra, she kept pulling her tight shirt past her breasts with that same difficulty she must usually experience around this area.

Then, she left her shirt rolled up around her neck, without slipping her head out of it.

Her gaze still bore into mine. Unsnapping her bra, she instantly set her colossal 36H titties free.

Wow… She was, once again, blessing me with the view of these most perfect, most boner-inducing breasts, and right where usually dozens of people peacefully sat down to eat. A thousand drops of hot rain kept running down her every curve. She looked beyond desirable.

I moaned like a caveman, unable to align two words.

Placing her now removed brassiere in the condiment tray, she nonchalantly put her shirt back on and leaned against the table behind her, jutting her chest back in my direction.

‘How’s that?’

‘Oh my God…’ I groaned. ‘This is… This is crazy, look at you, Emery. Hmmmm your boobs look so hot in your wet shirt aaaaaahh!’

‘Quite the day to wear a white one, right?’

Unable to resist anymore, I unzipped my pants and gave some much needed space to my stiff cock. Nobody could see. No one, but her.

‘Wow, look at you, Mr Eager Beaver.’ she said, smiling. ‘You look like you want to have some fun, don’t you? Hmmmmm How about you rub that thing in front of me, a little, while you keep looking at my boobs?’

Holy fuck! Ok! At that point, I’d say things escalated pretty fast. Emery was pretty good at controlling herself usually, but she must have felt it was now going beyond her means. She was going from one step to the next without me noticing it. All that rain in my face was only one reason why everything turned into a blur.

Soon, she got very vocal and put a hand down her pants to pleasure herself in turn, as she watched me and instructed me to do the same.

I remember her shaking her shoulders, making her wet jugs gyrating heavily and slap against each other inside her transparent shirt, teasing me to no end!

I remember her pausing her little dance to grab her own tits and pinch her hard nipples, making them poke through the fabric.

I remember going absolutely nuts when she rolled her pants down to her ankles and moved aside her panties to keep playing with herself. I remember thinking she’d never ever dare to go that far, though it seemed like that partial privacy from the fog could allow us to get away with it. I couldn’t believe her. I thought this was all going to be little fun and, well, “harmless” games, like when I fucked her tits behind the dumpster, but this was a whole other level of risk on the scale! Still watching me pleasure myself, she whimpered and moaned loudly and flicked her little button until I couldn’t hold myself anymore.

I remember her, spreading her legs wider. I remember her begging me to slip into her ever so wet hole: yessss, Emery’s hot pussy that I was finally feeling for the first time. I remember pushing all the way into her sheath, quietly, and stopped there to fully enjoy the sensation. I remember starting that erotic tango, making our wet pelvises plap together, making her luscious melons jiggle inside her shirt. I even remember her asking me to not touch them and just watch them move around freely instead.

Yeah, I remember things had escalated, but also came back down just as fast. The pavement wasn’t too hot anymore, so the steam had started to dissipate, making the diner reappear slowly in the parkway landscape. With no holds barred, we fucked and fucked in the rain, blurring the lines of madness. That, I can’t remember for how long, but still long enough to lose my mind at the view. She grabbed me by the neck and exploded in orgasm before I erupted all over her shirt, over her wet breasts.

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