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I have worked at a video store for seven years. I started in high school, needing a job “to learn responsibility,” apparently. My mother made the same mistake that nearly every parent does in assuming that a part-time job teaches kids anything other than how to screw around and break rules without getting caught. Once I graduated, I moved away to college and transferred to a different store in the same chain.
I have worked in a video store long enough to watch the slow death of that business as movies become available online or through the mail. When we have customers, they’re in to rent as a novelty more than anything, and they spend an hour browsing through thousands of DVDs looking for the movie they couldn’t find on the internet or didn’t want to wait to have mailed. It happens less and less.
I worked my way through college and transferred again when I moved to grad school. I finished up my first year and started my second, avoiding the manager position that kept getting thrown my way with a persistence that my fellow employees were continually awed by. I was generally, the oldest employee at any given time, and the one who knew the ins and outs of the system better than most of the managers. I wanted to be the manager less than I had wanted anything else, ever.
Most of the kids I worked with were misfit dudes with little sense of social interaction or super bouncy popular girls who just needed extra money and had no intention of ever serving anyone anything consumable. For seven years, my work life was a revolving door of comic book fanatics and perky, hot jailbait.
Not that there’s anything wrong with hot girls. I love attractive women, and I have met many. I don’t love jail, though, so I have done most everything possible to avoid going there.
I clocked in to work on a Friday in the middle of winter, having decided years previously that the best way to keep from getting shitfaced and blowing off the pile of homework that only got bigger the more advanced my classes got was to work. The store closes at midnight, so I’d be back home by one, and I could get in a couple of good hours of homework before crashing, wake up the next morning and pound out a couple more hours before taking a jog, a shower and another trip to work.
My manager, Rob, flagged me down as I dropped my coat and backpack in the break room.
“Yo, Carl, what’s up?” he asked as he walked up. Rob is a nervous guy, always looking around and shuffling when he talks. He only asks me questions when he needs something.
“Same old. You need something?” I kept my voice polite. I don’t hate Rob, as he leaves me mostly alone and isn’t a bad guy, really. He also gives himself the night off whenever I work, which is nice.
“Yeah, I sort of need a favor,” he said, his eyes going from his shoes, to the clock, back to his shoes, one of which he moved, to his shirt, and then to the front door.
“Ok,” I said. Rob’s favors are always relatively simple, so I was down.
“I sort of made plans tonight because I remembered that you were working, but then I hired a new girl and forgot that you were working tonight.” He cleared his throat, raised his eyebrows, and looked almost at my eyes. That meant the favor was huge in his eyes.
“And you want me to train her, because you told her to come in for training tonight?”
“If you do, I’ll give you overtime tonight.”
“Awesome, dude! Thank you so much, man, really. She comes in at eight.” Rob actually blushed as he thanked me, and shuffled around me and out the door.
I had a couple of hours until the New Girl, whose name Rob didn’t mention, arrived, so I put away the returns and switched out the movies in the DVD player to something less insufferable than what Rob decided promoted a family-friendly environment. I did a walk-through of the store, checked the porn section for strays, then settled down behind the counter with a book.
I refuse to read homework while at work. Combining work with more work causes stress, and I have enough of that. I pulled out a Neal Stephenson novel that I’d been working my way through for a couple of months and put my feet on the counter.
About an hour and two smoke breaks later, the door chimed and I looked up to see what, given the time, could have been Rob’s new hiree, but given her appearance I began to seriously doubt it. Rob has a tendency to hire every girl her jerked off to in high school, and this girl wasn’t Rob’s type. If anything, she would terrify him.
She wasn’t short, but not tall either, probably about five foot-six, couldn’t have weighed more than one twenty. She was shapely, with firm, high breasts under a t-shirt with a picture of a bone and the words “I Found This Humerus” printed across it and the kind of hips that are perfectly suited to carrying what I was guessing from her toned arms was a perfect ass. Her hair was an amalgamation of brown and faded pink that suggested she was a fan of short-lasting hair color, and the sides of it were buzzed down short under what fell long from the top. She looked back at me, Üçyol travesti sizing me up exactly the same way with her soft, critical blue eyes. A horseshoe shaped barbell glittered in her septum, and I could see tattoos trailing out of her sleeves and down to her wrists. A short denim skirt sprouted black fishnets wrapped around what were undeniably amazing legs that disappeared into what looked like high-heeled combat boots.
She cleared her throat and licked her lips, wetting deep red lipstick and just a bit of her porcelain white skin.
“You’re not Rob,” she said.
“Nope,” I replied. “Rob had something to do,” I continued, smiling as I formed a fist and pantomimed a slow jerking off motion, “so I’ll be training you because he can’t remember who he schedules when, or why. I’m Carl.” I stuck my hand out over the counter.
“Jo,” she laughed. She took my hand, wrapping long, slender fingers complete with short nails that matched her lipstick. “So where do I drop my shit?”
“Break room,” I said. I stood up and waved her behind the counter, leading her to the break room door. I held it open for her as she walked past, smelling shampoo and pretty much nothing else. “Throw it literally anywhere.”
“Cool,” she said. Jo turned back to me, shrugged her knapsack off her shoulder, and dropped it to the floor. “So is there a uniform or something?”
“Nope. Wear whatever you want, I’ll make you a nametag.”
We walked back out into the counter area and I grabbed a blank nametag from the bin under the computer and the label maker from next to it.
I spent the next fifteen minutes explaining to Jo that DVDs are arranged alphabetically, the computer system is simple enough to be used by a five year old, and that when people walk in, saying “hi” is required in the same way it’s “required” when meeting someone new.
Jo caught on quickly, not being stupid, and we passed the time talking about basically anything other than movies. She was a smart girl, working to earn some extra cash while attending the same university I was, studying English, loving it just enough to have fun but not enough to fuck herself over. I told her about working weekends to avoid getting wasted and fucking myself over.
“That’s not a bad idea, actually,” she said. “How do you meet people, though? Seems like working weekends would be a great way to not have any friends.”
“Oh, I meet people through class and I take random weekends off, but for the most part, I just want to get through school and get a job that doesn’t involve telling people when they need to return their porn.” She laughed as I finished.
“No, I mean how do you get laid? Or are we allowed to ask customers out?” She was looking at me with her head cocked to the side, her arms crossed under her, I was starting to assume, absolutely perfect breasts. She asked completely frankly, without embarrassment, like sex was a topic she was totally comfortable with. I liked that about her immediately.
“Ah, sex! I’ve read much of this mysterious act you people get up to. I’ve even tried it a few times, here and there. But for the most part, it’s books and papers and DVDs that it is strictly against company policy to throw at people.”
Jo laughed out loud, her breasts moving wonderfully with the sound.
“Oh thank God,” she said. “I thought I was the only one not getting any in college. Seriously, I haven’t been fucked in like two months.”
The topic changed after that to other, more mundane things. The time passed quickly; she was good company. At closing time I showed her where the vacuum was kept and showed her how to make it look like she’d done a really good job of vacuuming the entire store without having to do more than about ten minutes’ actual work. I counted out the drawer and we walked out together.
“Congratulations on completing your first day in the exciting world of video rental,” I quipped as we left.
“Yeah, thanks,” she said and laughed. “Thanks for showing me the best way to perform my new, wildly difficult job.”
“Uh-huh. I’ll see you, what? Tomorrow night? Rob usually starts the new guys on weekends.”
“Yep. Though, that weekend work plan actually sounds pretty good. I think I’ll just apologize to my vagina and request weekends to keep my grades up.” She grinned at me.
“Oh, she’ll take it fairly well, probably. Might be grumpy at first, but I’m sure she’ll come around,” I said. Jo laughed again, and I smiled. “On that note, I have a shitload of homework to get to, and you probably do too. I’ll see you at seven.”
“Later, man.” We waved at each other and Jo climbed into an ancient and somewhat rusty Oldsmobile as I crossed the parking lot and started the relatively short walk home.
Jo and I, as it turned out, worked pretty well together, and since we were actually eager to work weekends, Rob basically gave us the Friday, Saturday and Sunday night shifts. We developed games to pass the time and entertain ourselves. One of our favorites was “Fuck, Marry, Kill” which was played every time there were more than Alanya Travesti three customers in the store.
We also worked out a system for the odd rush that involved passing DVDs behind, under or around each other in what looked far fancier than it was while keeping ourselves from losing our shit with anybody. For the first time in a long time, work was fun thanks to Jo.
About three months after Jo started, we were having another slow Saturday and had nothing left to do that was work related.
“I need to get laid,” Jo said off-handedly.
“Uh-huh. I forgot to mention that after apologizing to your genitals and gaining their acceptance on the whole ‘weekend work’ thing, they will occasionally rebel in spectacular fashion.” I grinned at her and went back to my book.
“Seriously, man! I thought my vag and I had an understanding on this whole, ‘get educated, become a smart pussy’ thing! But noooo! I’m all trying to study and meanwhile there’s a lake down there. I bumped the counter earlier and almost fucking came.”
“Welcome to my world. I spend half the time with my crotch as close to the counter as possible to hide boners.” I realized as I said it that with any other coworker, I would have kept my mouth shut and just nodded. Any other coworker would have freaked out, probably.
“Really? That why you’re keeping your book in your lap, too?” She smile wickedly as she said it and raised her eyebrows, looking pointedly at my book as she leaned back against the cash register and crossed her legs, arms tucked under her breasts, pushing them up just a bit so that her cleavage was even more pronounced in her tank top.
It totally was. Jo, friend and coworker though she was, was incredibly hot in her punk girl way, and she had been doing a lot of bending and moving around in a short skirt and tank top.
“Ha! NO,” I said, making sure to over-emphasize the last word to the point of ridiculousness and ensure she knew I was lying.
Jo threw her head back and laughed, clapping her hands and blushing slightly.
“Awesome! Jesus I need to find something else to think about!” With that, she pushed away from the counter and walked past me to get out of the counter area, looking over the top of my book in an incredibly un-subtle way. I heard her suck her breath as she got a look.
I should take a second to explain something. I’m not a huge guy, just under six feet, broad shoulders, just under one-eighty. I’m a big guy, just not overly so. My dick is built a lot like I am. I don’t buy suits off the rack, and I don’t buy condoms made for average guys either.
I heard Jo mumble something under her breath before pulling her head back and scooting out from behind the counter. I grinned to myself as I watched her ass disappear around the corner and went back to trying to concentrate on my book. I had enough experience with women to know that something had definitely just changed in our work relationship, but I wasn’t sure how much just yet. I figured that finding out would be a lot of fun.
About an hour later, a DVD popped through the slot and I picked it up. Jo was dusting around the pamphlets and snacks on the counter, standing on the far side, closer to the shelves. I scanned the DVD back into the system and went to hand it to her.
“Oh come on, man! I’m dusting!” she pouted at me for a second, trying not to smile.
“Oh whatever, lazy. It’s a ‘G’. It literally goes right behind you, bottom shelf. All you have to do is stop for two seconds, turn around, bend over, and put it behind the case.” As I finished the sentence, Jo started to grin wickedly at me again.
“Oh, Ok,” she said, taking the DVD. “Like this?” With that, she backed up slowly, turned her back to me without looking away from me, straightened her legs, shoulder width apart, and bent slowly at the waist.
As she bent, her skirt crept higher and higher until the bottoms of her amazing ass cheeks came into sight, separated by a hot pink, lacy wedge of thong. Her pussy pushed against the material, soft and plump and looking like everything I’d ever dreamed of in a panty-covered pussy.
“I feel like I’m forgetting something,” she said, a fake thoughtful look on her face.
“Mmhmm. You’re supposed to put it in now. The DVD, I mean,” I said. My cock was straining against my pants behind the counter.
“Oh! Right,” Jo said. She made a show of searching the shelf while still bent over, her ass and not-quite-exposed pussy wiggling back and forth. “I found where it goes!”
“Me too,” I mumbled, and heard her giggle.
“I’m not sure I remember how to do this. Carl, will you come put it in for me?” she asked in as innocent a voice as she was able to manage.
I was around the counter in a heartbeat, walking quickly up behind her and pressing my hard cock between her ass cheeks as I bent down over her back. She was the perfect height for me to reach down and pull the DVD case forward without pulling my dick away from grinding against her crotch.
“Fuck,” I heard her breathe as I took the DVD Konyaaltı travesti from her hand. She reached back with her now free hand and gripped the back of my thigh, pulling me forward as she pushed her ass back against my cock.
“It’s simple,” whispered in her ear. “You just take it and shove it in as far as it will go,” I said as I jammed the DVD in place and ground my cock against her a little harder. Jo moaned and wriggled against me.
“What if it comes out a little?” she asked.
“Then you jam it back, over and over if you have to,” I replied. We continued to grind against each other for a few seconds, her hand gripping my thigh, my arm wrapped around her waist and my breath against her ear.
The sound of the door chime sent me sliding away from her, staying down so the customer wouldn’t see what was going on. I crouched next to her as she straightened up and greeted the customer cheerily, her face flushed and her nipples poking hard against her tank top.
Jo watched the customer walk into the shelves and the second he could only see her head she slid her hand down the front of her skirt for a second, her hand working furiously before slipping back into the open, her fingers coated in clear, sweet-smelling fluid. She popped the fingers into her mouth and winked at me.
“Your fault,” she said. I stood up next to her, took her hand and placed it directly on my painfully hard cock.
“Your fault,” I retorted. I winked at her and shuffled back behind the counter, praying I’d be able to concentrate on my book for a while.
The customer strolled around for two hours, wandering back and forth between DVDs before finally selecting one and coming to the counter. He spent twenty minutes arguing with Jo about his six-dollar late fee, and by the time everything was settled and he was gone, it was closing time and Jo and I were both pissed off.
We finished everything quickly and headed out the door, saying a quick goodnight. I had mostly forgotten about the earlier grinding in my annoyance at a stupid customer I hadn’t even had to deal with.
“Hey Carl!” I turned around and was greeted by the sight of Jo bending down to grab her keys, her perfect butt cheeks and covered mound peeking out at me from beneath her skirt for the second time that night. “I don’t know about you,” she called, “but I’m gonna go home and finger myself stupid thinking about something BIG I learned tonight!” She straightened back up, winked, and hopped in her car.
I jerked off twice that night before I could get any homework done, the image of Jo’s ass in my mind, wishing that fucking customer hadn’t come in. I wondered idly as I finished up a chapter on prehistoric Russia what the next night would bring.
I clocked in the next night and did some busy work while I waited for Jo to arrive. I wore light cargo shorts that night, deciding it was just warm enough out to defend the choice if confronted and knowing I wouldn’t be. I had also decided to go commando, just in case.
Jo arrived about five minutes later, and I got hard immediately. Her handful B-cups were barely contained in a tight spaghetti strap top, the kind with a built-bra that stopped two inches above her navel, and I could tell she had left the padding at home. Her legs were encased in the same torn fishnets she had worn on her first night, and she was wearing her favorite high-heeled combat boots with a pleated skirt that was just barely long enough to cover her ass. Just. Barely. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, showing off the buzzed sides of her head and the tattoo on the back of her neck. The rest of her tattoos were on proud display, save the very few that were covered by her tiny top, and I saw a jewel glinting from her belly button. She smiled brilliantly; quite proud of herself as she caught me staring while Rob said his goodbyes and shuffled out.
“Happy to see me?” she asked as she rounded the corner to the row of shelves where I was re-stocking DVDs. I saw her look down at the bulge in my shorts and watched her nipples harden as she walked closer. She stopped just short of my slightly restrained cock pushing up under her skirt.
“Definitely,” I replied with a smile. She blushed and giggled, something incongruous with her look and totally endearing at the same time. I handed her half the stack of DVDs. “Wanna help me out?”
She took the DVDs and dropped her eyes to my cock again.
“Mmhmm,” she hummed. “I’ll get this side,” she said, turning around and beginning to slot DVDs away.
A few seconds later I heard, “Hmm. Bottom shelf,” just too loudly for her to be talking to herself, and I turned to watch her look back at me and bend slowly at the waist, her long, gorgeous legs spread just a bit farther than last night, her skirt not even bothering to cover her as she went.
I watched her eyes for a moment, grinning at her widely before switching my eyes to her backside. I nearly dropped the stack of DVDs as I was greeted by a nearly full view of her gorgeous ass and the sight of a jeweled barbell nestled in her completely shaven, completely exposed pussy. My breath caught as I took in the sight of her sex, smooth, pale and pouty outer lips framing pink, already-wet inner lips. The jewel glittered over her clit, and her puckered, tight little asshole peeked out just below the hem of her skirt.
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