Glenda
- 3 years ago
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Warren's WomenChapter 3A: Glenda free porn video
Because of the congested traffic, Warren left the cab in the middle of the street a half-block from his apartment and jogged through the heavy rain to the dryness of his apartment's lobby. Once inside, he ran his hands through his hair and wiped them on his raincoat before removing it and shaking it over the marble floor forming a small pool. Draping the raincoat over his shoulder, he sauntered over to the mailbox and retrieved his mail and perused it, noting with some chagrin they were mostly bills. Stuffing them into his briefcase, he entered the elevator and pressed the button for the seventh floor and his apartment.
As the elevator doors opened, he spied Glenda, the new barmaid from 'The Bar, ' his favorite bistro, huddled by his door in a rain-splattered raincoat. To his practiced eye she resembled a waif from "Les Miserables" as she cowered there waiting for him to speak. Walking over to her, Warren felt like a giant as he towered over her, but recalled the other night on meeting her for the first time that she had to be about 5' 8". Warren smiled reassuringly as he held his hand out and helped her to her feet, holding her hand just a beat too long. He noted her hairdo was all but ruined from the rain, at least until she had an opportunity to perform major repairs, but she still looked good to Warren.
"Is this my lucky night or what?" he asked as if it were a rhetorical question. Smiling warmly, he gazed directly into her eyes.
"I was about to call you about our date for tomorrow night," he said. "You didn't have to wait in line overnight like someone looking for World Series tickets."
Glenda dusted herself off and averted her eyes even as he asked if she'd been waiting long.
"No, I... I guess I've been here about ten minutes." (She was lying; it had been over two hours, although she had been pacing outside in the rain only 20 minutes before.)
Glenda managed a wane smile and rested a hand on his shoulder for balance as she adjusted a shoe and said, "Don't go jumping to conclusions," she said morosely. "The owner of 'The Bar' put some moves on me that I didn't appreciate and he fired me when I objected and cursed him," her downcast eyes examined her shoes.
"I... I had nothing to do with myself, so after walking around kinda aimlessly for a while I decided to use the time to find out where you lived. Then I thought that... well, that you'd be home soon and if you... well, if you had tonight open... maybe we could switch nights and you could cheer me up and I could spend tomorrow looking for a new job."
"Oh..." he let the word hang there, knowing she was giving him a line but he suspected most of it was true. He took out his keys and selected one, saying, "Let's get inside and get comfortable."
Warren unlocked the door, and ushered Glenda inside. She walked in and removed her raincoat and handed it to Warren. She wore a striking black cocktail dress held up by thin straps. Warren got a glimpse of abundant cleavage as she sank down into a white leather couch. Glenda crossed her legs and her dress rode high up on her thighs. It was obvious to him Glenda was not wearing her normal working clothes, a tight Tee shirt and jeans or slacks. Warren enjoyed the views provided him and chalked it up as a deliberate ploy on the road to seducing him.
He wondered who'd given her his address before recalling that he'd handed her his card the other night at 'The Bar'.
Glenda's attention was diverted from Warren as she took a moment to glance around the spacious living room. The walls were painted a deep, dark green and complimented by white trim. The celery green carpet was plush, not at all typical of a bachelor's pad at all. Several brilliantly colored French Impressionistic paintings hung on the walls. Glenda thought they were perfect for the room's decor. A compact, but fully equipped kitchen was off to the right and a pair of saloon type swinging doors led to a darkened bedroom, hinting at an excitement that lay beyond.
"Warren, how the hell do you pay for all this?" she asked, so genuinely curious she momentarily forgot her manners.
"I've got a rich uncle," he grinned at her, deflecting her question into his finances. "You want to freshen up while I fix you a drink for a change?"
"Yeah, I'd could use a hair stylist. Where's the John?
"Through that door to the left of the counter."
"Oh, and no thanks on the booze, I don't drink."
Surprised, Warren came back lamely, "But... you're a bartender?"
"Was a bartender." She corrected him and with a weak smile went on to explain. "My father, sister and two brothers are drunks, so I thought I'd stay the hell away from it. Bartending serves as a daily reminder of how devastating it can be." She hugged her knees close to her.
Warren studied her. He thought she looked like a little girl in the pose.
"So how 'bout a Perrier or a Coke, I'm thirsty and hate to drink in front of company?"
She kicked off her shoes, and Warren said, "Hey, I should've said it earlier, make yourself at home."
"A Coke would be fine, please use a lot of ice though, and thanks."
Glenda laughed and hugged her knees again as she began to feel better about life in general. He was good to be around she thought as she followed his movements in preparing the drinks.
Warren took off his jacket and draped it over a yellow and gray easy chair. Glenda wiggled her toes as she noted his back muscles rippling under his shirt. Warren glanced over at her and when he saw her dancing toes his eyebrows raised in anticipation of things to come.
Then she remembered she had a date with a mirror and rose to her feet and excused herself.
Warren was impressed with the brief time it took Glenda to make the necessary repairs to her face and hair.
"That was fast," he said complementing her, but watching her every movement as she returned and sat down. "You managed to improve upon perfection. Amazing," he said, flashing his brilliant teeth at her.
"Did you like working at 'The Bar'?" he asked, positioning himself directly in front of her and handing her the Coke.
"Yes I did," she said, accepting it, her voice was tinged with regret. "The clientele were friendly and tips were generous."
"Would you go back there if they asked you in a nice way?"
"Oh, sure," she said matter-of-factly. "But it will never happen. I told the owner to go fuck himself and he exploded, and fired me on the spot," as she said this, she was slowly, almost lovingly, stroking the stem of her glass up and down.
"Well, that should have settled that," he said. When she looked at him as he stood in front of her he slowly ran his finger around the rim of his glass.
"Ya know, I never liked that guy, what's his name, err... Jarvis, ain't it?"
She nodded.
At that point Warren casually brought the tip of his finger to his mouth to lubricate the lip of the glass. Glenda uncrossed her legs and rested both feet on the floor for a moment while she concentrated her gaze on him, then she paused to sip her Coke.
"Excuse me a moment," Warren said, putting down his drink. "I have to make a call. Make yourself comfortable."
She laughed nervously and said, "You've already told me that."
He nodded absently, "So I did. Well, I'll be right back," he said, and went into the bedroom to make his call.
Five minutes passed before he returned. He was quick to see Glenda's legs were crossed again and her skirt had risen a little higher.
"Okay, he said smiling down at her. "Good news my Glamorous Glenda, you're back on the payroll. Just show up Friday night and, oh yeah, you get paid from today on. The boss is very sorry about what happened and hopes that will help make up for your bad experience."
Glenda was somewhat stunned with this news and got up carelessly and in so doing, managed to flash her lime-green panties at him. Not aware of what she'd done, Glenda threw her arms around him and hugged him tight.
"I could kiss you for that, you wonderful lug!" she cried.
"Be my guest," he smiled, feeling his erection growing.
And she did. It was a warm, soft kiss that gradually evolved into an open-mouthed duel of tongues. When it ended they held each other close and she stared at him, drinking him in. What kind of man was this she thought to herself. She had been attracted to him since meeting him in 'The Bar' that first night, but that had happened with other guys, but not this way, not this quickly. And now she felt what had to be his manhood pressing against her and she rolled her hip so as to lean into it a little more, savoring the touch, prolonging the contact.
Jayla
- 29.03.2021
- 19
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