Night Time Rendez-Vous: 3 sizzling novellas that will keep you up all night

by Eddie Cleveland

  There was a crumpled newspaper lying on the shared kitchen table. I picked it up, scanning the classifieds thoroughly. Mrs. Greenbank was right. I couldn’t afford to be choosy. I needed to find something that paid. If it meant slinging burgers in a grease trap then so be it. I scoured the unskilled labor section and noticed a slew of listings for waitresses advertised.

  I can do that. How hard can it be to bring people food? Plus, they make tips. I swelled with optimism as I grabbed the paper and headed to my room so I could figure out my next move.

  I decided to go pound the pavement to see what kind of minimum wage job I could muster up. After spending the majority of the day being ignored by staff or watching my résumés get tossed aside carelessly without so much as being glanced at, I was getting nervous. I was down to one résumé, so I decided to try to make it worth my while and popped into Le Désir de Bouche, a five-star French restaurant downtown.

  The hostess who greeted me at the door was a stunning young woman with a mocha complexion and big lips adorned with siren red lipstick. Her ample breasts were framed by her low-cut, white blouse while her hips flared out from her tiny, black skirt, creating an enviable hourglass.

  “Would you like a table for one or will someone be joining you this evening?” She smiled. It was the phony, hollow smile of someone who relied on tips.

  “No, I just wanted to drop off a résumé, if I could.” I held out my last attempt at securing a job for the day.

  “Oh, I will go get the manager. Wait here one moment, please.” She ignored my hand hovering in midair and disappeared down a hall. She returned with a man who couldn’t have been more than thirty-five. My interruption irked him.

  He wordlessly plucked the sheet from my fingers, reviewing the contents. He stood a little shorter than six feet, with rich brown hair that was neatly trimmed and styled. “Mirabel,” he scoffed, “you have no experience working in restaurants. What kind of work are you looking for?”

  His eyes were the color of the sky on a cold autumn day. I felt wordlessly paralyzed under his scrutinizing stare. He was undeniably handsome, if not a little rude, and I began to blush furiously when I watched him unabashedly trail his gaze down over my body.

  “Um, I don’t…you’re right, um...sir.” I realized he hadn’t even bothered to introduce himself to me.

  “Mr. Legare,” he said, as if reading my mind.

  “I am a very quick learner and a hard worker, Mr. Legare,” I continued, trying to sound confident despite how timid I felt.

  My discomfort amused him. “I’ll tell you what,” he said slowly as though he were calculating his words carefully. “I’ll hire you on a trial basis, say a week. If you’re as quick a learner as you say”—his eyes ran back over my body making my stomach flutter—“then that should be more than enough time to learn the job. I want you to return tomorrow wearing an outfit like Elana here.” He aimlessly waved his arm in the direction of the hostess. “And be here tomorrow for five o’clock, sharp.”

  “Thank you. Yes, I will, and I won’t be late,” I gushed. I wouldn’t get evicted after all! I was beaming, genuinely happy to have the burden lifted from my shoulders.

  “Until tomorrow then,” he answered as though he were dismissing a child from school.

  I nodded, taking my cue to leave, and headed out the door, very aware that he was watching me walk away the entire time.

  Unless someone was giving away clothes for free somewhere, I knew there was no way I could afford a brand-new blouse and skirt. I headed straight to a thrift store to see if I could find anything decent. Luckily black and white were easy colors to find with tons of selection for both. After trying on what felt like a bottomless laundry pile of white blouses and black skirts, I finally bought the newest looking versions of each that I could find. The total came to $17.56, which meant I officially didn’t have a single penny left to my name. This job would change all of that, though. I would show Mr. Legare how hard of a worker I was. I was excited for the new opportunity, even if it was only waitressing. I couldn’t wait to tell Mrs. Greenbank that my financial woes would soon be over.

  Chapter 2

  I arrived at Le Désir de Bouche well before my shift was due to start, with almost an hour to spare. I was eager to make a good impression on my boss and felt that being early would show him how seriously I was taking his generous trial period. When I showed up the restaurant was still locked and it took almost ten minutes of banging on the door before one of the prep cooks finally came to let me in. He regarded me skeptically when I told him I was a new waitress but ultimately just shrugged and opened the door. I had done my best to dress myself up so I would represent this highly rated establishment well. I didn’t have much in the way of makeup since it was an expensive indulgence, but I managed to pull it together with the scraps I had.

  I awkwardly stood by the entrance to the kitchen, unsure of where I was supposed to go, when Mr. Legare approached me from behind so quietly that I jumped when he spoke.

  “Ahh, I see you made it. Mirabel, is it?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Follow me.”

  I followed him down the hallway into his office where he waited in the doorway for me to enter the room. He clicked the door shut behind us and I waited for him to offer me a seat, but he didn’t. Instead, he wordlessly but intensely scrutinized my outfit, hair, and makeup. His silent gaze made me uncomfortable.

  “Turn around slowly. I want to see your uniform from behind,” he ordered.

  His demand surprised me, but I complied, slowly twirling like a music box ballerina for which he held the key. Self-consciousness washed over me as I turned my back to him, knowing he was staring at my ass.

  “Stop.”

  I froze.

  “Bend over and touch your toes.”

  I paused for a moment, pondering his strange demand, but obeyed, bending over at the waist, trailing my hands down to the floor in front of me. The cool fabric of his pants brushed against the back of my thighs.

  “This skirt is too long. You work in the service industry now, Mirabel. You work for tips. The majority of our clientele are wealthy, older gentlemen who will gladly and generously reward you for a little peek-a-boo when you bend over to pick up a napkin.” He began to pull my skirt up over my thighs and I stood up, shocked by his actions.

  “I didn’t tell you to stop touching your toes!” he growled. “Bend over until I give you permission to stand in front of me.” He spoke with such force that I immediately bent back over without question. I wasn’t sure where this was going, but I wasn’t sure that I minded. He yanked my skirt to the top of my thighs, pausing for a brief moment before tugging it up over my ass, exposing my cotton panties.

  “What the hell are these?” His fingers trailed over the gusset of my underwear while a shiver of delight ran through my body.

  “My panties?” I wasn’t sure what was confusing him.

  “No!” he answered sharply.

  I stiffened. I wasn’t sure about how I had upset him, but I realized that doing so bothered me immensely. I’m not sure what it was about his powerful presence that made me want to comply with his every order, but I knew it wasn’t just a waitressing job that motivated my obedience.

  “These are not acceptable at all, do you understand?”

  I remained silent. I didn’t understand at all. What was it about my cotton briefs that had offended him so deeply?

  “I’m sending you home. You haven’t dressed to code. I expect you to return tomorrow with a much shorter skirt and you had better be wearing a black lace thong under it. I will be inspecting you before your shift and if you don’t want to adhere to my policies you are welcome to find employment elsewhere.” His cold, matter-of-fact tone made my stomach sink heavily. Tears welled up in my eyes as I realized I might never see my first paycheck, but more importantly I hadn’t met Mr. Legare’s expectations. That last thought tore through me.

  “Stand up.”

  I stood. Tears
spilled onto my burning cheeks. I didn’t want him to see me cry. I didn’t expect that it would sit well with him, so I looked at the floor.

  “That is all. You are dismissed.”

  A tornado of confusion and embarrassment swirled through my mind as I exited his office. What had just happened? I couldn’t place why upsetting him had me struggling to dam up a flood of tears, but I knew I would do anything I could to make him happy.

  Chapter 3

  Mr. Legare was waiting for me at the front door when I arrived the following day. He peered right through me with his royal blue eyes.

  “Go to my office.”

  “Mr. Legare,” I began, my voice hushed so the kitchen staff wouldn’t overhear, “I wasn’t able—”

  “Office! Go!”

  My heart dropped. I walked down the hall, silently dreading that I was about to lose my job, but more concerned that I was about to let Mr. Legare down again.

  He followed me in the room, closing the door behind us.

  “Touch your toes.”

  I bent over, air caressing my exposed buttocks. I had spent hours carefully hemming my skirt by hand to a “peek-a-boo” length the night before. I couldn’t see his face, but I could sense his disapproval when my cotton panties were once again exposed.

  “I’m sorry, sir, I don’t have any money to buy panties. If you let me stay on here I promise I will buy as many pairs as you want with my first paycheck.” Leaving me doubled over, he left my side to sit on the couch. Unsure of whether or not I should stand up, I decided to await his instructions.

  “Come here, Mirabel.”

  Standing up made me lightheaded as I walked over to where he sat.

  “Pull your skirt up to your waist, pull those ugly panties down to your knees, and lie over my lap.”

  I stood there completely stunned, silently questioning if I could have possibly heard him wrong. Before I had a chance to mull it over he interrupted my confused thoughts.

  “You have disobeyed me and now I will punish you,” he said matter-of-factly. “You can do exactly as I say or you can leave. I will give you ten seconds to make a decision.” His voice was commanding. Even though I was standing over him I somehow felt meek and small in his presence.

  I realized my nipples were hard as little pebbles against my blouse. My mound tingled with desire as I slowly pulled up my skirt. His eyes were locked on my body as I lowered my panties to just above my knees. He smirked when my shaved pussy was revealed. I lowered myself across his lap and turned my head to face him when he forcefully slapped my rear end so hard it made me inhale sharply with surprise.

  “Look at the floor.”

  I immediately obeyed, shifting my gaze to the lush carpeting covering his office floor. He delivered another stinging slap across my cheeks with his broad hand. Heat spread through my reddening bottom. He smacked my backside again, harder than before, and I stifled a cry as the burning intensified. I was taken aback by how turned on I was. Each time my boss spanked me my pussy grew slick with my juices.

  “Tomorrow you will show up wearing a thong, am I clear?” He delivered another powerful blow and this time I stifled a moan.

  “Yes, sir.”

  I began to imagine what it would be like to be dominated by him in bed as he smacked my behind again. A painful heat radiated through my bottom, but my pussy was vibrating with excitement as I lay across his knees, my ass hoisted up in the air and my head hanging down toward the floor. I realized I wanted his strong hand to discipline me again when he stopped.

  “Stand up.”

  I did as he said. When he stood up from the couch I noticed he had a firm bulge pushing against his trousers. I salivated as thoughts of freeing his girth from his pants tormented my thoughts. He pulled out his wallet and took out a solitary, crisp one-hundred-dollar bill, holding it out to me. I looked at his offer puzzled.

  “Tomorrow you will show up wearing a black, lace thong. You are dismissed for today.”

  Crestfallen, I pulled my cotton panties over my tender ass. Mr. Legare turned away from me and walked to his desk, as if he no longer had any use for me. I shimmied my skirt down over my hips and silently walked out of his office.

  I decided to head straight to the lingerie store to pick up the nicest, blackest, laciest panties I could find, although there was a small part of me that wanted to disobey him again to see what would happen. But my desire to please him won out over my aching need to be spanked again.

  Chapter 4

  I’d never had enough money to buy anything more expensive than a bulk package of five underwear from Walmart. When it’s a constant struggle to pay rent and keep fed, fancy panties seem like a silly frivolity. So I really delighted in exploring the variety of corsets, matching bra and underwear sets, and even the stockings at the lingerie store in the mall. With one hundred dollars burning in my pocket, almost as much as my ass was burning in my skirt, I found myself daydreaming about what it must be like to have sex with Mr. Legare. I had seen a vague outline of his stiff erection this evening and I couldn’t help but let my mind wander to what it would feel like inside me.

  “Can I help you?”

  My breath caught in my throat, startled by the sales clerk standing by my side. I didn’t realize I had been twisting a black thong tightly around my fist as I indulged my fantasy.

  “I, um, I’ll take four pair of these.” I handed her the wrung out, black lace thong and picked up three more, shoving them on top of the mangled pair, hoping she didn’t notice. If she had, she didn’t let on. Instead, she tried to show me some bras that “would go well with these, and really compliment your complexion.”

  I shied away from her suggestions. I had a set amount to spend and I had been specifically directed to spend it on the underwear I had painstakingly picked out. Shrugging at my reluctance, the clerk gave up on her upselling attempt, walking over to the register to ring me in.

  My stomach twinged with nervousness at the thought of paying with a single hundred-dollar bill and briefly worried that she might reject the currency. You’re not at a 7-eleven, for Christ’s sake. Do you think she’s never seen people pay with hundreds? I chided myself for my needless fretting. Walking out of the store with my four tiny thongs in a comically large plastic bag, I realized that for the first time in my life, I was really excited to go to a minimum wage job.

  Chapter 5

  This time when I arrived at the restaurant one of the prep cooks was waiting at the front door to let me in. He eyed me up with a knowing smile.

  Does he know? I didn’t have time to give it much thought as I scooted past him, making my way to Mr. Legare’s office.

  I was dismayed to find the door closed. I had presumed he would be waiting for me as impatiently as I had been awaiting him. My heart sank with disappointment when I knocked for the second time to no answer, realizing that these “inspections” were obviously more important to me than him.

  Just as I was about to find a staff room to slink away to, the office door opened abruptly. Mr. Legare was incredibly sexy in a navy, pinstriped suit and my pussy glistened with excitement despite his furrowed brow.

  “When my door is closed you will learn to wait patiently, Mirabel.”

  This was not a request but a statement of fact in the same flat tone as “the sky is blue.” I nodded, submissively lowering my gaze to his expensive leather shoes. He placed his hand under my chin, tilting my head back up to meet his piercing gaze. “Am I going to be pleased with our inspection today?”

  There are so many ways I could please you. The sassy thought caught me off guard. Instead, I simply responded how he expected to be answered. “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. Come in.”

  I walked past him and bent over in the middle of the room, touching my toes while he closed the door behind me. “I see you are a quick learner after all,” he mused, walking up behind me. His hand gently caressed the crotch of my lacy thong and a shiver of fervent need made me tremble. “Learning very quickly i
ndeed.” He sounded impressed, making me flush with delight at the prospect of earning his approval.

  He moved back as I remained bent over, waiting for him to instruct me to do otherwise, but was taken aback when instead he knelt behind me, kissing my bottom. He hooked my thong, pulling it aside and teasingly ran his finger tenderly over my mound, growing slick with anticipation.

  I wanted his hands all over my body, his mouth on mine, his cock thrust into my pussy with wild abandon, but I remained steadfast and focused on maintaining my stance in silence. Without a word he penetrated my folds with his finger, pushing it deep into my core. I involuntarily cried out as I thrust my hips back toward his hand. He pulled back out, gliding his now coated finger up until he found my tender bud. Slowly but firmly he pushed small, tantalizing circles around my clit, driving me wild. I hoped with each ragged breath that he would flit his finger over my most sensitive part, but he expertly danced around, purposely bringing me pleasure but not allowing me to build toward a climax. I cried out softly when he removed his hand, standing back up behind me.

  “Stand up now.”

  I followed his direction while he walked around me, facing me now, and I could smell a light scent of coffee and cologne as he ordered me to unbutton my shirt. I didn’t realize until I unfurled my hands to comply that they were so tightly clenched I had dug deep fingernail marks into the sides of them. My fingers trembled slightly as I unbuttoned my shirt under his watchful eye.

  “Stop.”

  I had only undone three buttons, but my bra was fully exposed. I could see from the expression on his face that he was no longer happy with me and I realized that my cheap, white, underwire bra was probably the issue.

  “I told you to buy new undergarments. Black. Lace. Undergarments.” He emphasized each word more angrily than the last.