Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
This is my first attempt at writing erotic anything. A very big thank you to CelibacyForJealousy for all of his editing assistance. I hope you all enjoy it!
*****
Today was a slow day and I couldn’t stop yawning. I hadn’t slept well the night before and now there was nobody coming into the shop to give me something to distract myself with. At the register next to me, Erica was idly drumming on the countertop, also struggling to stay awake. I absently wondered if she’d also had difficulty sleeping while I stared blankly at the entrance.
Dale’s Hardware Store was a little family run affair, one of those cornerstone-of-the-neighborhood sort of shops. It couldn’t compare in size or price to the big chain hardware stores, and the Dale it was named after died some fifty odd years ago. But it still held a certain sort of charm that helped to keep it afloat. The only folks who shopped at the Hardware Metropolis on the other side of town were the travelers just passing through who had no sense of community or nostalgia or whatever it was that bonded us to people.
Sandra, Dale’s great-granddaughter, was the current owner. She was friendly enough, but was definitely a quiet, reserved sort of woman. She used to be a lot more outgoing and cheerful, but after she went from being known as Mrs. Walsh to being the widow Walsh, she withdrew from a lot of people. Today she was acting as our friendly greeter.
Erica was trying to see how quickly she could spin a pen in her hand. She was a drummer in a punk rock band during her off hours, so she was actually pretty good at it. She leaned against the counter, one hand spinning away, and the other propping up her head as she sighed heavily. Erica was a tiny girl, just over five feet tall, and if you tossed her in a pool, she might come out weighing a hundred pounds. Her normally beautifully wavy blonde hair was today tied back in a lazy ponytail; a couple stray locks came down across her face, and she would attempt to blow them out of her eyes to no avail.
Up at the entrance, Sandra was cleaning the windows for the second time today. That seemed excessive to me, given that they were already spotless. At least she seemed like she was being productive.
Sandra was older than the rest of us, having just turned forty a few months ago. She still looked youthful and vibrant, even at forty; I hope I manage to age half as well as her. Her thick black hair came down to her shoulders in tight little ringlets, framing her wrinkle-free face beautifully. She ran about seven miles every morning, so she didn’t have an ounce of fat on her. It always makes me feel a little self-conscious about my own admittedly soft body. Not fat mind you, just… soft.
Mrs. Smith marked our third customer for the day, bringing our average up to one every three hours. I think every town has a Mrs. Smith, and it’s always this kindly old lady who calls everyone dearie and carries hard candies with her at all times. At least, that’s what our Mrs. Smith did.
“Good afternoon, Zachary. Would you like a candy? I think I’ve got one here.” She reached into her purse and, before I could stop her, produced one of those awful pineapple candies for me. I’ve never even seen those sold in stores. Where old people get them, Elderly Mart?
“Thank you, Mrs. Smith,” I responded. It may be going in the trash once her back is turned, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be polite. “What do you need today?”
“Well, my granddaughter is in town to help me paint our den, and I just needed to look at some of your paints.” She studied me for a moment before continuing. “She’s single you know. Very available!”
“Thank you, Mrs. Smith, but you know I have a girlfriend. I can’t imagine she’d be thrilled about me bringing another girl home.”
“Oh, I know that dearie. She’s very cute though. And huge tits! Comes from my side of the family, you know.” She winked at me before shuffling off to the paint section, leaving me blushing down to my neck.
“She’s got a point, dude. Chick be racked for an older lady.” Jerry, the stock boy, had apparently finished whatever mischief he gets up to and had come up front to heckle us. Jerry was the second oldest here but acted the youngest. He was in his mid thirties and spent all his time either snowboarding, trying to pick up chicks, or working out. To the man’s credit, he looked like he was chiseled from granite. He could probably break my fist with his abs.
“She’s like, ninety. I don’t care how big they are, they’re attached to an old person.”
Erica chimed in, “At what point do they stop being excellent and start being heinous? Like, is there a cutoff age? Thirty-nine year old breasts are awesome, but once you hit forty, man is that game over. Something like that?”
I shrugged. “As long as they haven’t sunk below the waist they’re okay by me.”
“Aw, c’mon Zach,” Jerry taunted, “I bet you’re secretly all about the elder cougars. Seventy plus women on the prowl, with their big hair, ruby red lipstick, bahis firmaları leopard print tank tops and leather pants. I bet when they bend over to retie their stiletto heeled boots, their nipples brush the ground.”
Any reply to his lovely imagery was cut short, however, by the arrival of our forth customer of the day:
Anja Whetstone.
Anja was a girl I’d had a crush on for a long while, even from before I hooked up with Zoe. I don’t feel bad about it. Pretty much everybody who meets Anja has a crush on her. She was absolutely stunning. She had long, flowing red hair, and amazingly perky breasts that, unlike Jerry’s elderly cougars, seemed to defy gravity. Her ass was firm and pert beyond belief; I’ve seen men give themselves whiplash as she walked by. Her most defining feature, though, was her face. Her eyes were a brilliant emerald green, hidden behind lush eyelashes. She had a light dusting of freckles across her button nose and gorgeously full lips, always halfway upturned into an adorable smirk. I don’t know whether she did it on purpose, but Anja oozed sex.
“How are my favorite hardware junkies today?” She called out as she sauntered into the shop. Today she was dressed in jeans and a low cut tank top, and not much else. I had to make a concerted effort to make eye contact as she walked up to the registers.
“Morning, Anja,” Erica chirped when she reached our station. It was half past one in the afternoon by now, but that never stopped Erica. It was always good morning with her. “We were just talking about breasts and old people. Do you have any insight?”
“I love them both and wish the world had more of each,” she replied with a smile.
“I think when I get older and they start sagging, I’m going to get them removed and pretend to be an old man instead. It’ll save my back, and then I can hit on young ladies and be creepy as hell.” Erica stooped over, pulled her lips over her teeth, and in her best old man voice said, “Well aren’t you a tall drink of water! Want to help me lose my dentures?”
I motioned for the two girls to quiet down, as Mrs. Smith was heading back over our way. “Did you pick out a good color?” I asked her.
“Oh yes, I think I’ve got some good options,” she said, brandishing a handful of swatches. “I’ll take these home to show Lydia and see which one she likes. She’ll probably be by tomorrow to have you dears mix it for us.” She paused a moment, studying me again. “She’s single you know. And has hooters you wouldn’t believe!”
“Yes Mrs. Smith, so I’ve heard.”
She turned to Anja then, and looked her up and down. “Well, aren’t you pretty. Would you like a candy? I think I have one here.”
She found another candy for Anja, terrible cherry this time. She waved goodbye to us all as she headed off for home. Erica was pouting.
“She never gives me candy any time she comes. It’s always everybody else.”
“Do you really want one of those terrible candies?” Anja asked as she popped the artificially cherry monstrosity into her mouth.
“Oh hell no, I can’t stand them. But it’s the principle of the thing. Why are you even eating it?”
Anja just shrugged.
“So what brings you in today, Anja?” I interjected as Sandra was starting to make her way over. I guess she was tired of greeting nobody. I couldn’t blame her.
“Oh man, I have got a treat for all of you. I’ve got a fresh batch of a new beer, and I want all of you to help me name it. Sandy, get over here. I got one for you as well.”
“Anja, you know it’s not professional, nor acceptable in the slightest to be drinking at work, and I certainly won’t allow my employees to imbibe while on the clock,” Sandra admonished. Despite her objections, I could see her eying the bag Anja was carrying. That girl brings out a little bit of rebel in everyone.
“Aw, c’mon Sandy, this one’s special. I went to that new herb shop that opened up downtown, the creepy looking one. They had some cool spices and things I had never even heard of. I was tasting it while it was brewing and it’s going to be killer.” She pulled a bottle out of the bag and dangled it in front of Sandra invitingly. At the same time, I felt my interest in the brew wane drastically.
The stuff was red. Like, really red. I’ve seen some strange looking beers before, and tried them without a second thought, but the brew Anja was proffering made me irrationally uncomfortable. I seemed to be the only one with reservations though, because a moment later, Sandra proclaimed “What the hell, we’re dead today. This is a onetime thing everybody, so don’t get used to it.” With that, she took the beer and let an excited Anja pass out bottles to the rest of us.
I eyed the booze warily while everyone else cracked theirs open. “What uh, what did you use to get the color like that?” I asked Anja.
“Hmm? Oh, some of the spices I guess, why? Does it look off?”
“Anja honey, it’s bright red,” Jerry commented in between long pulls. He was outpacing everyone else kaçak iddaa easily. “Pretty tasty brew though.”
The girls all looked at him oddly. “Uh, Jerry,” Erica began, “it’s brown. It’s not red at all. Where are you getting red from?”
Everyone was examining their bottles now, looking very confused. “Mine’s red,” I told them. “like tomato juice red. Everyone else’s too. Are you not seeing it?”
“I see it man,” Jerry informed me as he downed the last of his beer.
“You guys need to get your eyes checked out I think,” Sandra informed us.
“Huh.” Maybe I was just seeing things. Everyone seemed to be enjoying the drinks, even Jerry, who shared in my delusion. And Anja made them for us. I wouldn’t want to waste something a friend made. My mind made up, I opened it up and drank.
It was delicious, absolutely amazing. I can’t quite place why because there was a whole mess of flavors that just seemed like they should not be there. But somehow it all came together into something quite special. I was still having a bit of trouble getting over the fact that it was so vibrant, but after the first drink it became a lot easier to convince myself to keep going. We all stood around chatting and drinking beers for the next couple customer-devoid hours until Sandra decided that nobody else was going to come in and she was just wasting money keeping us all here. So we closed up the shop early. Sandra and Anja stepped outside for a cigarette, leaving Erica and me to close up the tills. Jerry was no use in closing, so he went out with the two girls for a smoke.
Erica turned to me and, gesturing at Anja, asked, “So when you gonna ask her for a three way with you and Zoe?”
I stared resolutely at my station, refusing to acknowledge the wide grin she had plastered across her face. “Yeah, that’s not going to happen. I guarantee Zoe wouldn’t go for it. And even if she would, Anja would just laugh at me. Furthermore, I don’t want to.”
“That is the biggest crock of shit I’ve heard so far today. If those two came up to you all, ‘Zachey poo,’ you’d pounce on that like an alley cat on a tuna sandwich.”
“Yeah, not going to happen.” I tossed the money from the till into the change bag and started walking towards the back office.
“Shit, I’ll ask her then,” Erica called out after me. “If she says sure, mind if I borrow Zoe?”
Ignoring her laughter, I put the money in the safe and started to head outside to meet up with everyone else, but they were already coming back in.
“After much deliberation,” Anja proclaimed, “we have decided to name it ‘Red Men Tell No Ales.’ We named it after the color blind men folk we’ve got with us here. What do you two think?”
“I love it!” Erica squealed. “It’s perfect. Catchy, rolls off the tongue, and it’s picking on Zach and Jerry both. What else could you ask for?”
Anja and Erica high-fived each other. I asked, “It’s a bit long, isn’t it?” But other than a, “That’s what she said,” from Jerry, I got largely ignored. Some help he was.
“All right, everybody go home.” Sandra started shooing us out. “Store’s closed, go away. I’m leaving, and you all can’t stay behind without me.” Erica quickly ran her deposit back to the safe while the rest of us left to go to our cars.
“Here,” said Anja, handing me another bottle. “This one’s for Zoe. Let me know what she thinks.” She gave me a hug, then hopped into her car and took off. I walked to mine, a shitty fifteen year old sedan, and unlocked the doors. As I climbed in, Erica got in the passenger side.
“Can I help you?” I asked her as she buckled herself in.
“You sure can! I’ve got a big-ass bottle of tequila at my apartment I can’t possibly finish on my own, so I’m going to have you and Zoe help me out. Swing by my place on your way home so I can grab it.”
I was going to argue with her until I decided that actually sounded pretty good, so I only gave her a long-suffering sigh and a shrug before I put my car into gear and pulled out of the parking lot.
Erica lived in a tiny studio apartment on the fourth floor of a rundown apartment complex in the middle of town. She says she likes it because it’s cheap and she doesn’t really need a lot of space, but I suspect it’s really because she can purchase any illicit substance she wants just by knocking on her neighbors’ doors. I’ve never seen her do any hard drugs or anything, but that girl smokes a lot of pot. I wondered how many dealers she lived next door to while I waited for her to get back with the liquor. It didn’t take her too long; she came bounding out down the steps a few minutes later. She had changed into a tee shirt, some very short shorts, her trademark sneakers, and had in hand an enormous bottle of tequila, as promised. She climbed back into the car and we set out for my place.
“Seriously though, you’ve got it bad for Anja, I can tell,” Erica said while she rummaged through my glove box. I usually have a box of candy or something in there. Today it was gumdrops. kaçak bahis “I bet Zoe would help her tag team you.”
She and Zoe had been friends even longer than she and I had. It was a few years back that she introduced us to each other at a party of hers, and we hit it off immediately. Zoe was a personal trainer and had the body to show it. Her hair had been a thick mass of wavy, jet black hair that she’d left hanging loosely down to her chin. Her skin was like black velvet and her eyes and her smile shined brighter than any I’d ever seen. She was an Amazonian goddess, and I was instantly hooked. What she saw in me, well, I’m still not entirely sure.
I am an outstandingly average man. I’m kind of tall, but not really; I’m not overweight, but I am severely lacking in muscle definition. I have blonde hair, blue eyes, and pasty white skin that rejects our mother sun. I’m not particularly bad looking, I don’t think, but a girl like Zoe? She could do much better.
“Why do you keep pushing for me to try to get a threesome going?” I asked her, snatching away the box of gumdrops before she ate them all. “Has somebody said something, or do you just think it’s funny?”
“Shit, man,” she chewed out around a gumdrop, “I’m just trying to live vicariously through you.” She swallowed before continuing, “I haven’t gotten any action for months now, and I figure someone getting double is the next best thing, eh? Besides, I think Anja’s into you. She gives you that ‘come hither’ look all the time.”
“What ‘come hither’ look is this? Having eyeballs doesn’t make something a ‘come hither’ look.”
“Nah dude, this one.” She cocked her head to the side, pouted her lips and started batting her eyelashes ridiculously. I couldn’t help but start laughing.
“Well damn, now I’m hard,” I said in between giggles. “Thanks for that.”
“Hey, no problem. I aim to please.” She at some point had reacquired the candy box, and helped herself to the last few gumdrops. I suppose I didn’t really need them anyway.
We pulled into my driveway a few minutes later and Erica bounded up to the front door, waiting impatiently for me to unlock it. Zoe was in the living room, watching a television show while she read a book. That kind of multitasking confounds me.
“Zoey zo!” Erica shouted as she walked in. “I come bearing dinner,” she said, brandishing the tequila, “and dessert.” She ran her hands over her body sensually and let out a soft moan.
“Ooh, girl, I will eat you up,” Zoe said, getting out of her chair and walking over to her friend. The two girls embraced, kissing each other briefly before separating. “Normally I’d bitch about unexpected company, but for you I’ll make an exception.”
“Aw thanks,” Erica said. “I feel special.”
“I was talking to the tequila,” Zoe replied wolfishly.
Zoe grabbed us some shot glasses while Erica dug a pack of cards out of her purse. “Rummy anyone?” She asked while Zoe poured the shots. We sat ourselves in a circle on the floor, pounded our drinks, dealt the cards, and our night began. After each round, we did another shot. We started cycling through card games after rummy got dull, and the shot between rounds quickly became two shots, and then three.
“You know, Zoe,” Erica began while she shuffled, “Zach here is totally a prude. How have you not corrupted him yet?”
“What are you talking about?” Zoe laughed. “He’s totally a pervert. Aren’t you Zach?”
“I got a penis, don’t I?” I poured myself another shot. At this point, we were pretty much just drinking whenever. “Kind of comes with the equipment.”
“No, no, no. Listen, he’s totally got the hots for this chick at work right, but he won’t admit it or nothing! I told him to bring her home for you and he was all like ‘No, Zoe won’t, and no, I don’t, and no, we won’t, and shut up’.”
“Hey, that last one is sound advice,” I said, downing my drink to hide my embarrassment.
“Aw, Zach, you got a hottie at work and you won’t share?” Zoe leaned against me and started tracing light little circles on my chest with her finger. “How cold! If I had a hot young thing, I would bring her home for you.”
“See, Zach,” Erica proclaimed before I could retort, “I know what I’m talking about sometimes.” She and Zoe shared a look I didn’t quite understand, and she quickly started dealing out another hand of cards.
“What are we playing this time?” I asked as I picked up my hand.
With an evil grin spreading across her face, Erica responded simply, “Poker.”
“We don’t have any chips though,” I said as I rearranged my cards. I was hoping it was five card draw, because my hand was atrocious. “Betting games are silly without betting.”
“We’ll sort it out,” Zoe assured me soothingly.
We each traded out cards, leaving my hand better than it was. “Two pair,” I grinned as I threw them in front of me.
“Full house,” Zoe laid out. “Read ’em and weep, bitches.”
“Damn!” Erica tossed her cards on the floor. “I only got a pair. Guess I lose.”
“Pay up, buttercup,” Zoe happily informed her. With that simple direction, Erica leaned over and removed her sneakers, setting them aside. I wondered if they were serious about this, but I was eager to find out.
Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32