At the new outlet, colleagues were some real pricks, save a nice kitchen help and a tall and slender 'Ah-Lianish' looking girl (let's call her Sally). She would only come in now and then and we would just have some casual small talk and crack some jokes here and there. When she wasn't around and since I hate the other colleagues who were just useless bums, I entertained myself with the frequent hot OLs that come dine there. I remember one wearing an orange top and had the top part of her bra peeking out. She didn't even bother that I, while serving her, could totally look down her top and see her melons behind that cute little black bra.
Then came this day when Sally became more chatty and friendly with me than usual. It was her last day working as well. Throughout the whole shift, we were laughing and joking with each other. At the end of the night, the bastard outlet manager had me do some washing up of the remaining glasses in the sink, while he and his equally dumb buddies just did nothing. I was cursing at them under my breath.
Then from behind me, Sally came up and offered to help me dry the glasses as I wash them. Thrilled she was willing to help, I thanked her and continued washing. As I was washing, I had my elbows sticking out at an angle on either side with her to my left drying with the cloth.
She lean in closer towards me to place the glasses on the shelf in front of me and that was when she pressed her boobs against my arm. For the record and for you to picture, she had a pretty decent rack - round breasts under her fitted black polo tee. Ok, I thought it was just those accidental 'boob brush' incidents, but what do you know - her right boob was still clearly in contact with my arm she reverted back to her original position. My arm was under her right breast and rubbing against it as I was washing the glasses. My elbow was actually kinda lifting her breast up a little. It was then, I started to kinda slow down my washing pace and drop the idea of wanting to head back home quickly.
Every time she leaned in to shelf the glasses, she would press her chest against me even harder. I too cheekily moved my arm out more towards her, lifting her right boob ever so slightly. Nice and soft. As the number of glasses in the sink decreased and as the number of glasses on the rack was increasing, we chatted with my arm totally in her chest.
The washing was done and the glasses were dried. We all got packed up and locked up the restaurant. As we were all gonna part ways, she bid goodbye cheekily with a sparkle in her eye and with a wide smile on her face, seemingly to suggest that she hoped I enjoyed the softness of her rack against my arm. It was definitely a nice way to end the work day but hey, who wouldn't have wished for more?
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