Bad Shopgirl

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Folding clothes. God almighty I got so tired of it. And the click of the hangers on the metal racks. Hour after hour, day after day. The piped in music helped a little at first, but that got to be mind-numbing after a while too.

I worked in the men’s department at a big clothing retailer. I don’t work there anymore. My boss fired me after I’d been there about a month. “That’s unacceptable behavior!” he yelled, in full view of some customers. I knew that it was, right from the start, but I couldn’t help myself. It seemed like a dream when it was happening, like I had no control over it all, and it still seems like a dream today…


“Excuse me,” a man’s soft voice said.

I looked up from the bin of shirts I was sorting through in the ‘foyer’ area of the men’s dressing room. A nice looking man was sticking his head out of one of the stalls.

“I’m afraid I’ve been hooked by a pin,” he said. “Every time I try to get it it bites me.”

He was pointing at his back, and smiling with the most beautiful teeth I’d ever seen. I walked over silently and unhooked him.

“How did that get there?” I said, holding the pin. “These things are sneaky.”

As I said it he stripped off the shirt and was looking at it.

“I hope I didn’t get blood on it,” he said.

We both looked it over and I could smell him, a mix of spicy deodorant and male perspiration. His bare chest and shoulders were beautiful and muscular, and he looked like he could pin me down with ease.

“It looks all right,” I said. “Did you want it?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “I didn’t get a good look at it yet.”

He quickly slipped it on and buttoned it up as I watched.

“What do you think?” he asked, and he turned slightly to look at it in the mirror in his stall.

I didn’t know quite what to say. We were told, in no uncertain terms, not to fraternize with the customers, especially us women who worked in the men’s department. It was fresh in my mind because I was new and it was my first day working the floor alone.

“I think you could wear just about anything,” I said with a little smile, and I went back to the bin to sort out the rest of the tried-on clothes for re-stocking.

He came out dressed in his very handsome street clothes. “Thanks for the help hun,” he said with a million dollar smile. “I could have bled to death in there.”

His scent perfumed the air behind him as he walked away and a soft moan escaped through my nose. Damn he was a good looking guy!

Later that same day I went back in the dressing room to sort out more of the day’s rejects. Another cute guy, this one a bit younger than me, came in with a pair of pants to try on.

“I didn’t think pretty girls were allowed in here,” he said with a smile.

I’m normally pretty thick skinned, but for some reason his comment made me blush like a school girl. I could feel the intense flush on my face and I couldn’t come up with a single word to say. He winked and went into one of the stalls.

The stalls are about seven feet tall, and open at the top all the way up to the ceiling. The doors are louvered and open at the bottom. Pretty much every sound made in there can be heard from outside. I suddenly found myself folding silently and listening intently. I had never done it before, and it gave me a tingle to be a voyeur like that. The sound Gaziantep Anal Escort of his pants coming off and the sight of his bare ankles under the louvered door triggered my hormones, and my heart raced.

I heard him slip the new pants up his legs, the zipper going up enclosing his crotch, and even the button being fastened. I could see his feet as he turned to look at his ass in the mirror, and then the whole process was reversed. The sound of the zipper going down shot through me like an explosion. Before I knew what was happening he was walking out and I was standing there watching him in full blush mode again.

“Sorry, not today,” he said. He winked as he handed me the pants and walked away.

Sorry, not today? The pants? Is that what he was talking about, or did he sense that I had been listening and think that I wanted more? Did I want more?

That night I masturbated. It was the older guy with the bare chest and the muscles. He pinned me down just like I thought he would and fucked me until his spicy sweat dripped all over me. My red rubber dildo never had such a workout.


For a week after that I found myself in the dressing room more than I should have been, watching legs under the doors and listening. The men were nice for the most part, but a few shot me dirty looks, like they didn’t want a woman anywhere near their dressing room. When that happened I left them in peace and went out to straighten shelves on the floor. Most of the time though, guys didn’t seem to mind me being in there. Quite a few were flirty, and some were downright forward.

“Wanna help me with my pants sweetheart,” one slimy looking guy said.

If I was gonna help anybody like that it would be that guy over there, I thought to myself, looking out the dressing room opening at a cute guy flipping through shirts on a rack.

As soon as I thought it he walked toward me, smiling as he passed, and he went into the stall at the far end of the dressing room. He had quite a handful of clothes, and I was supposed to stop him and count them before he went in, but it was like I was in some kind of a trance and his beautiful smile just breezed on by me.

The slimy rude guy came out and didn’t even hand me the clothes. He just threw them in the bin I was working on like a rude guy would. Suddenly I could hear Cute Smile down at the far end. I knew he had pants and shirts and I pictured him in nothing more than some little skimpy briefs as he tried things on.

I found myself checking stalls for stray clothes, working my way down the line of them until I got to the one next to Cute Smile. There was nothing in it, but I went in anyway, and stood there silently. He went silent too, and I could hear him breathe. My heart started pounding and I had to hold my breath so he wouldn’t hear me, but I guess I did it too late.

“Would you like to join me?” he said softly.

I heard the creak of his stall door opening, and then silence again. He wasn’t going to force himself on me, he was too nice for that. He was just giving me the chance, if I was so inclined, to do what I’d daydreamed about for the last week.

That same trance I felt when he’d walked past me overtook me again I guess, because the next thing I knew his cock was in my mouth. He was up against the wall with the mirror on it and a nice hard six-inch dick was tickling my tonsils, as my old high school friend used to say.

Turns out he didn’t have skimpy briefs, they were boxers, but he looked just as good in them as I’d imagined, and even better with them down around his ankles.

The whole thing happened pretty fast—he came quick thank God—and I was back out on the floor straightening shelves just a few minutes later. I watched Cute Smile check out, and he looked back at me when he left with, you guessed it, a cute smile.

It was funny, the whole thing didn’t even strike me as that odd. It felt like it was meant to be that way or something, which my friend says is ‘delusional behavior’ or some such thing. I went about my business as if nothing had happened, and was soon back in the dressing room, listening to zippers going up and down.

It was a few days before it happened again. For the life of me I don’t even remember how it happened that time, just another cock in my mouth, one that was bigger and uncircumcised. It had a funny sideways curve to it, so it felt different in my mouth, and it hung between the legs of an older guy, sixty, maybe sixty-five years old I guess. He was real handsome. I do remember how it ended. He whimpered when he came, sorta like my momma’s dog does when you rub her belly, and right in the middle of it his wife—I guess it was his wife—called back to him.

“George? Those pants fit?” she said.

“I don’t know yet dear,” he said. He was holding my head in his hands when he said it, his cock still spasming a little in my mouth.

“What’s takin’ so long?” the wife said. “I’ll be over in housewares when you’re done.”

There were three or four more blowjobs over the next two weeks. There could have been more I’m sure, but the trance only overtook me every once in a while. I never knew when it was gonna happen, there was no pattern with a certain type of guy or anything like that. I just found myself in their dressing room swallowing their cum.

One thing that did change was the way I dressed. Pretty early on I learned that it was even more fun if I could show the guys a little tit or something, so I started wearing shirts that would open easily, and front clasp bras. As soon as their cocks went in my mouth I unbuttoned and let my girls out for a little air. They’d reach down and squeeze ’em, and my hormones would shoot up to the next level.

The next stage was when I started wearing skirts and dresses and stopped wearing panties. When I’d squat in front of the guys they could see my puss, and a couple of them got a nice feel before I pulled away and scolded them with my best dirty smile.

There was one guy that was just begging me to let him fuck me. He was making a spectacle of himself and I didn’t want to get caught, so I told him he could if he’d shut the hell up. He was real quiet, just breathing super loud until the end, and then he slapped the wall and made a loud noise with his mouth, like a bear in the woods on one of those TV nature shows. I was back out on the floor a few minutes later and felt his cum dripping down my leg. There’s a bin for soiled clothing that people have tried on, stuff that smells like sweat or whatever, so I wiped myself clean with a polo shirt that was in there, and tossed it back in.

Letting that guy fuck me sorta opened up the floodgates. I think that’s what they say, isn’t it, when it all sorta goes crazy? By that time there was repeat customers, although some of them I shouldn’t call customers, because they didn’t buy anything I don’t think. They just came in to see me.

Cute Smile came back, a bunch of times. He was real happy when he got to fuck me, and I was real happy too. He wasn’t as big as some of them, about six inches like I said, but he sure was good looking and he fucked real good. I could of stayed in there for hours with him, but it had to be quickies because of the situation.

This one guy came in, with the biggest blue eyes. They weren’t the only thing that was the biggest. He took the prize for biggest pussy stretcher. My goodness, it must have been nine inches long or more, and twice as big around as some of the other guys. Getting the whole thing in my mouth was a real challenge, but I did it, and when I rubbed my nose back and forth against his belly he made one of those bear noises too. I got spit all over my clothes that day—something about having a cock that deep in your throat makes all this sticky spit come out. It was making a real mess, but it was fun.

I bent over for him in my usual position, with my hands on the big mirror so I could watch, and he somehow got that monster prick in my little body. It was the most amazing feeling. I was pretty much gone from the world while he was doing it, but I could still hear the P.A. system calling for help in the men’s department. It was weird, like a good dream and a bad dream mixed together. None of it really registered. I mean the pleasure did, I came real hard, which I didn’t often do in the dressing room, so that part registered nice, but the rest of it, like when I heard my manager’s voice, and Blue Eyes pulling up his pants real fast and leaving, that part seemed more like a dream.

My manager standing outside the open stall door, me with my tits out and cum running down my leg felt like a dream too. I even smiled I think, like I often do in my dreams.

“Cover yourself up young lady!” he said.

I remember thinking he was talking way louder than he needed to, and then I started to realize what was happening.

“Collect your things and get out of here!” he said. “Your fired!”

I stepped out of the stall in a daze. I stopped at the re-stock bins and wiped my leg with a shirt. Blue Eyes really had a lot in him. My manager stood there and watched me, his face redder than anybody I’ve ever seen. It was like he was burning so hot inside his voice wouldn’t even work anymore. I was out on the main floor of the store before I realized my tits were still out, and he finally spit out some more words.

“That’s unacceptable behavior!” he yelled.

I reined in my girls and buttoned up as I walked toward the employee area in the back, and then I went out into the sunshine. ‘That was a big fuckin’ cock!’ was pretty much all that was in my mind.


I never did see any of those guys again. I was kinda hoping I’d run into a few of them, Blue Eyes or Cute Smile, or maybe even the older guy with the muscles and the spicy sweat. I never did get to fuck him or even blow him or anything, and he was hot.

I was unemployed for a few weeks and then a friend of mine got me an interview at the University. It’s just a maintenance job, on the janitorial crew. They hired me and I start next week. They told me I have to start with the worst job, cleaning the football team’s locker room. I don’t know if I’ll like it there. We’ll see how it goes.

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