Amanda And Claire 1 - Free XXX

Amanda was stirring her cappuccino absently, when Claire put her paper down and

said, ãWell, weâve lots of options for work.ä She pointed to each entry as she

read off, ãSecretary, secretary, receptionist, clerk, and secretary.ä

ãYou can type canât you?  Didnât you provide secretarial services for Mr.

Fontaine before we partnered up?ä  Amanda said as she looked up from the steaming

beverage sheâd been agitating.

Claire laughed, ãYes, from beneath his desk and up against the filing cabinet.  I

didnât do much typing.  That requires one to sit down on oneâs ass.  But, yes, I

can typeä

ãOh, well, weâve got to come up with some way to pay the rent.  Canât you pretend

or something?  Iâm even thinking of applying for a job over at Drowsie Maggieâs

for the dinner shift.  I can wait tables.ä  Amanda said as she slowly spun the

cup around on its saucer.

ãYeah you can.  Iâve seen you work tables, but itâs usually on your back or on

your belly, with your ass or twat wide open.  Got an idea.  If we donât get a

call for something more fun by this evening, letâs go get something a little on

the drab side to earn the rent by.ä With that, Claire folded the paper and

finished drinking the iced cappuccino in front of her.  Her shades rapped around

her face and the contrast between the dark band where her eyes should be and the

whiteness of her skin was alluring.  Her full, coral-colored lips matched coral

nails.

ãHmm, itâll be a challenge.  But, Iâm up to it.  Gotta eat, you know.  Letâs call

from here and check our messages.ä  Amanda waved to the waiter and asked him to

bring a phone to the table.  She took a pen from her purse and smoothed a napkin.

 When the waiter returned with the phone she smiled at him brightly and patted

his hand.  She punched in their number and after a brief pause, began writing on

the napkin.

Claire watched as she wrote down the messages and wrinkled her forehead so the

dark brows disappeared beneath the tops of her glasses.  She looked around for

the waiter and saw him disappear into the cafe.  He exited again five minutes

later and she signaled to him for the check.

ãWell, we got a call from David at La Boite.  He wants us to put something down

on our tab.  Monica was wondering if we want to go to a party at her parentsâ

place next weekend.  Three calls from the land lady and a call from the manager

at the gym to find out if weâre going to join.  Heâll give us a discount.  Mr.

Flasque called to say that was our best session yet, and wants a standing

appointment on the third Wednesday of every month.   Heâll pay more if we make

him a regular.  Monique down at the modeling agency called to say she expects

weâll have a few jobs the first weekend of next month for one of her foreign

clients.  Sheâll let us know in a few days.  In the mean while, we donât have any

choice but to find work to tide us over for a while.

The waiter brought the check and smiled at the generous tip left by the two

women. Amanda patted him on the behind as they were leaving.  They were soon lost

in the current of people constituting the hustle and bustle of afternoon

shoppers.  They headed back to their apartment but first Claire filled out a few

applications with several businesses looking for secretaries.  Amanda stopped by

Drowsie Maggieâs to apply for work as a waitress.

The manager of Maggieâs was a sinewy dark fellow with a faintly lilting accent.

He spent more time checking her out as she sat there in her short skirt and

sandals with her leg crossed over the other knee than he paid attention to her

answer to his questions.  He accepted the application when she handed it to him

and told her to show up for work the next night at 4 p.m.  Heâd be the only one

there until 5:30, but he wanted to give her a good orientation.

They climbed the three flights to their loft apartment and Claire waited while

Amanda opened the door.  The flash of the indicator on the answering machine

showed they had a couple more messages.

ãGawd!  I wonder what now.  Hmm, maybe itâs one of those places you applied to.ä

Amanda said as she pushed the button and waited for the play back.

ãMs. Pidgeon.  This is Ernest Dixonâs office.  I need someone to start tomorrow.

 My current typist had to leave unexpectedly today.  Your qualifications seem

adequate for our needs.  Please call as soon as you can.  The answering service

will contact me as soon as they hear from you.ä  The message ended with the

date/time stamp.  The final message was from the land lady.

ãWell, at least weâll be able to eat through next month.ä  Claire said as she

began dialing the number to Dixonâs office.  Amanda went to answer the door.  She

mockingly shoved her finger down her throat after sheâ peeped out the view hole.

When she opened the door, a middle aged, ashen-blond haired woman stood waiting.

She was somewhat dumpy in spite of her attempts at makeup and a manicure.