NAKED Cheerleader and other Stories (5 page)

She imagined him pushing her up against the
shower wall, the cold tiles shocking the skin of her stomach and
cheek. He would pump his hard cock deep inside her from behind,
thrusting harder and harder each time. She would almost be lifted
up from the pressure and the pain would be exquisitely sweet. He
would reach an arm around and massage her clit as she was doing
now. His throbbing penis would hit her G-spot with amazing accuracy
and his rubbing of her bud would grow rougher.

Aniston was now banging her clit and violently
shoving her fingers in and out of her slick entrance. She was
nearing the edge now. Her pussy muscles hungered for something more
to grab onto than just her fingers but her mind was making up the
difference. Thoughts of him squeezing her breasts and twisting her
nipples were enough to put her over the edge. Waves of pleasure
swept through her body as she peaked.

Her clit rubbing and fingering slowed as her
orgasm tapered off. She opened her eyes and laughed at what she had
done. She was so hot for Archer, she couldn’t even wait until she
was in bed. She finished the rest of her shower rituals and put on
her satin pajamas. She went to grab her book and phone before she
relaxed in bed. The review could wait until morning, she
thought.

When she reached into her purse for her phone
it wasn’t there. Confused, Aniston began taking out the contents to
find it. Worried, she began mentally retracing her steps. Like the
proverbial light bulb above the head, the realized in an instant
that she had left her phone on the table at the
restaurant.

“Great,” she thought. Just what she needed. She
had been trying to make a dramatic exit to chastise Archer for his
behavior and now she would have to go back. All she could do was
hope the late hour meant that only the bus boy doing the dishes
would be left and maybe the GM. Probably not Archer. He was the
star chef, after all.

She looked down at her satin pajamas and
decided against changing. She would just throw a trench coat on and
flip flops. No need to change clothes for the busboy. She grabbed
the coat and her keys and headed out the door. The streets were not
very crowded in the city that never sleeps because it was a Tuesday
night. Her neighborhood was full of hip new restaurants, used
bookstores, and a low key bar where “everyone knows your name.”
Once the restaurants closed, there wasn’t a ton of late
traffic.

She reached the restaurant and the front door
was locked. She knocked loudly and pressed her face against the
window to see in. Nobody was in the dining room but there was still
a light on in the kitchen. She was banging on the door now hoping a
busboy would hear.

Finally, the kitchen door opened and Aniston’s
heart beat harder as she saw Archer crossing the dining room to let
her in. He had on a thin white t-shirt, jeans, and an apron. The
shirt did a weak job of covering his body. His hair was even more
mussed giving him a look sexier than before. If he didn’t have the
apron on, he would’ve been just a normal, hot, twenty-something New
Yorker. That would have been enough in Aniston’s mind. But the
apron… the apron is what put her over and ignited the lust in her
once again. He was like a man in uniform, a culinary
uniform.

Her juices had begun flowing again between her
thighs. She became aware of this just as Archer reached the door
and she reddened with embarrassment.

“Ms. Monroe. Didn’t get enough of my food? Want
to experience more delectable perfection that is my
cooking?”

“I’ve had quite enough, thank you. I need to
get my phone.”

“Ah, yes. It’s in the office. Follow
me.”

They were snaking their way through the tightly
packed tables with chairs on top in the medium sized dining room.
Before they reached the kitchen door, Archer turned and casually
said, “You know, Ms. Monroe, you really should password protect
your phone. You have some racy pictures on there. Where was that
nude beach? Mexico? France? I couldn’t tell.”

“You looked through my phone!” She stared at
him in amazement. She should have figured he would be so rude, but
the intrusion angered her nonetheless.

“Like I said, you should password protect your
phone.” Aniston shoved her way passed him forcing her body to rub
against his to get by. She felt the hard muscles she had been
imagining while masturbating less than an hour earlier. This turned
her on but did not dampen her indignation. It was her turn to storm
through the kitchen door.

She pushed through dramatically to reach the
bright and airy kitchen. The dining room was packed tight but the
kitchen was spacious. “How did he pull this off?” she muttered
under her breath.

“Because I’m me,” Archer replied. Aniston
hadn’t meant for him to hear her. She was growing more frustrated
with him and with her body by the minute. If he would just stop
talking. She didn’t want to be so turned on by a man that was such
an arrogant ass. But she couldn’t help it.

She looked around for the office, spotted it,
and marched toward it. Archer grabbed her arm before she could
reach it and swung her around to face him. Too surprised to react,
she stood there as he pulled her body against his and pushed his
lips against hers. They were soft but the kiss was firm. His tongue
crept inside her mouth to explore. The wetness of his kiss caused
her pussy to surge with lust. It was as if he was speaking directly
to her body against her mind’s wishes. She wanted to make him stop,
knew she should. But she also wanted to melt into his kiss and let
the heat between them simmer up to a boil.

She pushed his chest away from hers. Clearing
her head was difficult because her breaths had become
shallow.

“I can’t do this. It’s not right.”

“Why not? You’ve already written the review,
right? You’ve skewered me and burned my reputation to a crisp, no?
So what’s the problem?” Aniston stood, still in his embrace and
sheepishly looked to the ground.

“I wasn’t going to burn you. Merely singe.”
Archer winced, though still holding her hips against his. She could
feel the growing bulge beneath his apron and jeans.

“Wait, so you haven’t written it, yet? That’s
great!” he exclaimed and immediately began kissing her
passionately. One of his hands tugged the belt of her coat causing
it to come undone. The other cupped her ass cheek
reverently.

Aniston found her hands still on his chest but
not pushing away. She was swept up in the excitement of the moment.
She knew this was exactly what she should NOT be doing. But that
was only fueling her desire. She wanted to be bad, to let this hot,
young chef take her right here in the kitchen and earn a good
review from her. She was tasked with judging his skills, she
rationalized.

Archer pulled away and her coat slipped open
revealing her peach satin pajamas. Her hard nipples were
unmistakable under the thin fabric. He cupped both her breasts and
moaned.

He grabbed her hand and pulled her to the prep
table. It was eight feet by four feet of cold metal in the back of
the kitchen. There were pots and pans hanging from hooks high above
it and a slender shelf running across the middle three feet above
the surface.

“This is gonna be fun!” he exclaimed, a twinkle
in his eye. He flashed a mischievous smile that summed up his
entire personality in one look. He propped her up on the prep
table, carefully avoiding pushing her too far back where she would
hit her head on the center shelf above it.

“What are you doing?” she asked as Archer ran
over to the stove and put the saucepan full of sauce that was on
the back burner onto the front one that he had fired up. He whisked
the contents quickly as it heated and then he grabbed a spoon and
poured the sauce into a ramekin and brought it over to
Aniston.

“Try this.” He dipped the spoon in the sauce
and slowly slipped it in her mouth, watching her face intently for
a reaction. “I was working on it when you knocked. After your
comment, I figured it could use some improvement.”

She shut her eyes and began the natural process
of experiencing and decoding the flavors and scents that lay on her
tongue. It was a lemon butter sauce like the one she’d had earlier.
But the lemon was mild this time. She could taste the shallots,
tarragon, and sauvignon blanc whose subtle flavors were allowed to
blossom this time around rather than be smothered by the lemon. She
opened her eyes and smiled.

“Much better. Why didn’t you serve that this
evening? With that and a decent dessert, you would have had a
homerun,” she said.

“Why can’t I still?” he asked as he unbuttoned
her pajama top revealing her bare breasts. Annoyance crept in her
expression. It was one thing for her to decide to bend the rules
for him but it was something entirely different for him to assume
she would. This was the arrogance that always got in the way of
Aniston feeling a deeper attraction to Archer than just lust. She
was sure he would have no idea what she was talking about if she
ever tried to explain this. He would retort that he was just
confident.

Sensing her discomfort he began, “Wait, I don’t
want to trade a review for sex. I can earn it. Let me make you a
dessert that is so good you’ll cream over it.” He flashed that
mischievous smile again and Aniston relaxed a little. She would get
to taste his five star dish after all and wouldn’t have to feel
guilty for being the one to give the superstar a bad review.
Delicious food. A good review. A great fuck. Aniston thought this
was shaping up to be a good night after all.

“But first, I need some inspiration,” he said
as he snaked his fingers into her hair and pulled her face forward
to meet his. He kissed her tenderly and cupped her breast with his
free hand. He grabbed a handful of her blonde hair and pulled it
back lightly revealing her long neck. He began kissing along the
side of her neck as he twiddled with her cherry colored
nipple.

“You taste good,” he whispered in her ear. His
hot breath on her skin was just the sensual sensation she loved to
enjoy. In Aniston’s world, all of the different flavors of both
food and sex were meant to be consumed and appreciated.

Aniston reached around Archer’s back to untie
his apron while he was kissing her neck. Lips and tongue alternated
on the other side of her neck while he massaged her other breast
and tweaked her nipple. She reached in front to unbutton his jeans,
greedily wanting to see and ultimately feel his seemingly large
member.

Archer paused from kissing her neck and backed
away from her a step. He reached up and behind his head to grab his
shirt. He pulled it over his head and tossed it to the side. He
paused and gave Aniston a once over. She wasn’t yet naked but the
obviousness of his gesture made her feel as vulnerable as if she
was.

“Fucking hot.”

Aniston felt the self-consciousness ease away
at that. She reached for his jeans and pushed them down to his
thighs. He was wearing boxer briefs and his cock was given a little
more leeway to protrude, though still reigned in. Archer grabbed
her hips and pulled her forward off of the table, jangling the pots
and pans above. He slipped his thumbs underneath the elastic of
both her panties and pajama bottoms and bent down to slide them to
her ankles. She kicked them off while he stood up and did the same
with his jeans and boxer briefs.

They were both standing naked in the florescent
lit kitchen--his tanned and toned body a picture of beauty in the
stark silver and white work atmosphere. Hers more closely resembled
the creations the kitchen turned out on a nightly basis. The soft
curves of her dewy, pale skin and contrasting cherry red nipples
closely resembled the colors and textures of a succulent
cherry-topped cheesecake.

Aniston looked into his crisp blue eyes and ran
her hands through his wavy dirty blonde hair. She pulled his body
to hers and aggressively kissed him, giving into the lust she had
been trying to hide from all evening and in which she was now
getting to indulge. His pecs pressed against her breasts and his
cock pushed up against her belly. While kissing, his hands reached
low behind her, cupping her ass. One crawled further down between
her cheeks grazing her anus, causing it to pucker. His fingers
moved on to her folds, maneuvering between their wetness to find
the source, her hole. His penis jerked slightly when he found
it.

Archer was now hunched over kissing the back of
her neck and shoulder while reaching behind her. Aniston’s sex was
becoming more aroused by the second and she didn’t want to wait any
longer. She whispered in his ear, “Fuck me.”

He immediately pulled back to face her. She
could see the intense lust in his eyes of a fiery, young man often
consumed by his passions. He grabbed her ass and again propped her
up on the prep table, keeping her pussy at the edge. Aniston would
have no leverage to take part in the movement. She could only hold
onto him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and lifted her legs
up and apart.