Emily’s Nails“I, ah… like your nails,” I say to the girl at the counter &nd
Emily’s Nails“I, ah… like your nails,” I say to the girl at the counter – they really are fabulous.“Thanks,” she says and flips her hair back. “I get a lot of remarks on them. Second most, actually.”She’s playing with her hair so I say, “Oh, your hair,” but her eyes tell me I’m wrong… “Um, eyes…”“Boobs?” she states in a voice that says ‘obviously’.I blush – yes, I had thought about her boobs – a little hard not to notice (though not painted in a florescent rainbow lol). “Oh, I meant from girls…” I cover with.“Yeah – me too.” She’s got a sort of demanding thing going on, but she’s definitely someone who can pull it off. Fortunately, there’s no one else to order anything…Almost magnetically I’m drawn to touch one fingernail. “You keep two short,” I say, knowing exactly what it means.“Yeah – gets appreciated,” she implies.“I’m… ah… sure it does,” I stammer.“Interested?” she asks baldly. Moment of truth! What do I say?“I’ve… ah… never had… Um…”“You’ve never had ‘Um’?” she teases. Leaning in close – so I nearly fall into her cleavage – she says in a hoarse whisper, “Does Lauren want a little ‘Um’?” All the more startled by the use of my name (I am wearing a name tag) I just stare at her, transfixed, with my mouth open, feeling the blush race down my face and neck to my chest.“How about tasty ‘Um’? Ever had tasty ‘Um’?”“Yum,” I say, trying to make a joke, ease the tension that only I seem to be feeling.“Yes… ‘Yum’.”Her order’s up and I get it for her, wondering if that will break the spell, wondering if I want it to. She doesn’t start up again.“I wouldn’t know what to do,” I blurt.“I’ll show you,” she says, grasping my hand, which I pull back – until she’s brushing my (diminutive) breast. “Your nails are short, at least.”“This job…”“Are you a lesbian?” she asks very softly.“I… don’t know… I don’t…” I don’t know how to finish that.“Didn’t think so. What time do you get off?” she demands. The double entendre is not lost on me…“My shift ends at 8 – I don’t close,” I tell her, more than she needs to know, I suppose.“I’ll come back. My name is Emily. I’ll come back around 8.” Drawing my hand back to her, she traces a figure in my palm with a long fingernail.Quietly she promises, “And Emily will get Lauren some ‘Um’. And ‘Yum’.”Gonna be a long wait… -- source link
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