I’d always gotten along with my manager, G, although everything was kept strictly platonic. But even then, I’d notice a wandering eye or lingering look. Something to tell me he was interested but nothing to indicate what he’d actually do.
One day, a few of the other staff had called in sick, leaving us with just a bare bones crew to try and get our way through a busy Saturday shift. G would find little ways to touch me, putting his hands on his waist to get past me or giving me a side-hug for little things, and the combination of a stressful shift with his increase in flirting was starting to leave me flustered.
He was a good-looking man, one of those ones that actually gets phone numbers from customers left for him, so I was flattered by his attention and would be lying if I said I didn’t have a crush. Although I had been warned by other staff that he never sleeps with his employees, so I’d been happy to keep my crush at a distance and just enjoy the flirting.
The busy period was relentless, and didn’t seem to ease up even when staff for the next shift started to trickle in. There was confusion over someone who was meant to have swapped shifts, another staff member called in sick at the last minute and one of the customers was throwing a fit over their expired coupons. G, who was normally calm and collected, was looking stressed; his hair was sticking up where he had clearly been running his hands through it and his jaw was tense.
I was busying myself with cleaning up the clothes a customer had left dumped in one of the changing rooms when I heard the door open behind me.
“I’m just cleaning up, this room will be available in a minute,” I said over my shoulder, focussed on disentangling the straps of two dresses. I didn’t realise anything was wrong until I felt him behind me and finally looked up, startled.
“G?” I dropped the two dresses and made to turn around but he grabbed me by the waist and kept me looking forward. We locked eyes in the mirror and there was a question hanging there. The air was suddenly hard to breathe.
I nodded.
G pushed me against the mirror, his hands running up and pulling down the top of my dress. He groped my breasts roughly, pinching my nipples. I bit my lip to stifle a moan as the customers outside bustled.
Fuck, was this really happening?
G unbuckled his trousers and pushed them down just enough so that his cock sprang free, already rock solid. I couldn’t see it from my angle but I could feel it against my ass, my pulse quickening. I heard people talking outside the door and tried to control my breathing.
Keeping one hand on my breast, G reached under my dress and yanked down the flimsy underwear I’d put on that morning. He growled softly against my neck.
“Where the hell is G?” one of my colleagues called as G spat on his hand, rubbing it along my pussy. He noticed that I was already wet and a smirk tugged his mouth upwards. The door rattled as someone tried to open it and failed.
“Quick,” I whispered.
“Say it,” he whispered back to me, the heads of his cock now pressing against my entrance. I met his eyes in the mirror.
“Fuck me, please.”
We kept eye contact as G pushed himself inside me, his cock stretching my hole. I clenched my teeth and pushed back, needing him deeper. G obliged, sinking his cock until he was sheathed completely before pulling back.
He closed his eyes and tipped his head back as my pussy gripped him and he began thrusting. His fingers dug into my hips as he held me where he wanted me, almost completely pressed against the mirror. The sound of our skin was drowned by the noise of the customers outside.
G slipped one of his hands down, seeking out my clit. He rubbed it gently while he continued to roughly fuck me and I could feel my orgasm building. Someone knocked on the door but we ignored them.
Soon, I felt G start to throb and his grip became like iron. I knew he was going to cum inside me and the thought tipped me over the edge. I clenched and shuddered as G pressed his hand over my mouth to stifle me. I came on his cock and he came soon after, exploding inside me. I heard someone calling my name from the changing rooms as G withdrew his cock, his cum dripping down my thigh.
“I needed that,” G breathed, buckling himself back up. “I’ll let them know you’re not feeling well while you clean up.”
He looked pointedly at me, my panties still around my ankles, cum running down my leg, and my dress pulled down to my waist, leaving my breasts exposed.
“I like you looking like this,” he smirked. “I think I should schedule more of our shifts together.”