Night inventory

"It's so stuffy," Zhanna kicked the box of shower stalls and reached for the collar of her uniform shirt. "Denis, are you serious? Working my ass off until the morning?" Denis, a young manager with a neat haircut, clinked the metal shutters on the front door, locking the Plumbing and Tile store from the inside. "An order from above. A re-stocking of the entire 'Bathroom Everything' department. And yes, Zhanna, don't slog, just work. The results will determine which of you will become the senior salesperson. I need someone responsible." Kira emerged from behind the faucet rack, wiping her hands with a rag. The curvy blonde, her vest strained against her ample bust, chuckled, crossing her arms under her chest. "Did you hear that, Zhannochka? A responsible person. Not someone who just blabbers." "I'm just talking about what's for sale," the skinny brunette snapped, adjusting her short haircut. "Buyers run away from you without consulting you: you say, 'This watering can is cool,' but you can't explain why." "Girls, that's enough," Denis raised his hands placatingly. "I suggest we do it the mature way. We'll calmly recount everything, and the results will show who's the pro here." He turned on the overhead light, and the warehouse hangar was illuminated with a cold fluorescent glow. A dusty security camera in the corner blinked its red eye—the automatic recording continued as usual. The next hour passed in a routine: the rustling of invoices, the clanking of metal parts, and the typing of numbers into a tablet. Zhanna climbed the stepladder, her long legs flashing in tight jeans. Kira, slightly out of breath, bent over a tray of flexible hose, her vest betrayingly parting at her chest. Denis put the tablet down and rubbed the bridge of his nose. - Okay, take a break. My throat is dry. He dove under the demo sink with the sample sink and fished out a dusty bottle of semi-sweet red. — The storekeeper's stash. Just right for production meetings. Plastic cups were immediately found. The tart, slightly sour liquid loosened tongues. Kira licked her lips and leaned her hip against the corner of the counter. "Denis, what does 'responsible personnel' mean? Who can write the most beautiful numbers or who can present the product in the best possible light?" "On your face and other parts," Zhanna grinned, looking straight into the camera. "You, Kirochka, can only shake your ass at customers; you also need to remember their characteristics." Kira exhaled loudly and finished her glass. Her head buzzed pleasantly. "Specifications? Let's see who's cooler in action. Right now, we'll give a presentation to our manager. He'll see who's up for promotion." Denis coughed into his fist but didn't object. After all, an informal approach was only encouraged by corporate ethics—in his dreams. “The camera is recording,” he warned for some reason. "To hell with it!" Kira waved her off. "There'll be a video report for the bosses. Let them know how we're doing the inventory here." She decisively pulled off her vest and tossed it onto a box of Italian tiles. Her white blouse clung to her massive but firm breasts, her nipples protruding from her excitement. Zhanna, squinting, pulled her matching top over her head, revealing a lacy black bra that concealed almost nothing. Her small, firm breasts, with their protruding nipples, looked provocative. "We've warmed up. Now for the goods," Kira snatched a new chrome shower head from the display case. "Here, the Comfort Plus model. Five settings. I'll show you in person." She stood in the middle of the aisle and unzipped her skirt, letting it fall to her ankles. Remaining in microscopic beige panties, the blonde turned on the imaginary water and began erotically running the nozzle over her shoulders, neck, and then chest, lingering on her nipples. The metal cooled her skin, and her nipples instantly hardened. "The client should see how easy it is to switch modes," Kira commented, her voice a little hoarse, and pressed the button on the handle. There was a dry click. "There, the massage jet stimulates." She lowered the shower head lower, toward her stomach, and then to her panties, pressing the nozzle against her crotch. The fabric became damp from the moisture that had seeped out. Denis instinctively pulled out his smartphone and aimed the camera. Zhanna snorted: — Crap. A real presentation is a demonstration of the performance properties. Give it here. She grabbed a flexible shower hose from her friend, coiled into a coil and without a shower head. She stretched it in her hands, demonstrating its elasticity. — Reinforced, doesn't kink. Can be used in unconventional ways. For deep… penetration into hard-to-reach places. The brunette defiantly removed her pants and panties in one movement, leaving her in just her bra. Her thin but firm thighs glistened in the lamplight. She lowered herself onto the edge of the shower tray and, spreading her legs wide, began to stretch the hose between her hands, demonstrating its sturdiness. Then, spitting on the glossy end, she brought it toward herself. — If you lubricate it, it goes in perfectly and glides. Smooth rubber, hypoallergenic. Take a look. The end of the hose disappeared between Zhanna's labia. She took a deep breath and began slowly moving it back and forth, spreading her vagina. An audible squelching sound echoed throughout the quiet warehouse. Denis swallowed. His pants felt tight. "Not bad," Kira admitted. "But it's better to demonstrate working fluids on yourself. We have a sealant. Silicone, waterproof. Here." She grabbed a tube from the shelf, unscrewed the cap, and squeezed a long, clear tube onto her index finger. A thick, viscous mass squirted down. The blonde turned her back to her friend, pulled down her panties, and leaned forward, resting her hands on the tiled wall displaying samples. "Come on, Zhanna. Show me how the sealant helps prevent leaks in the rear connection. Let's test the anal seal." Zhanna's fingers, slick with slippery silicone, touched Kira's clenched hole. The sealant felt cool. The blonde exhaled loudly and pulled back. A finger entered, stretching her sphincter. A second. The clear lubricant bubbled and stretched into threads. "Good penetration," Kira remarked matter-of-factly, swaying her massive hips. "Now let's check for compatibility with plumbing fixtures." She nodded to Denis. He, no longer able to contain himself, unbuckled his belt and freed his engorged member. Thick, vein protruding, it twitched with anticipation. — We have a demo sample of a plumbing fitting. It's conical and flared at the end. Suitable for a test insert. Kira invitingly spread her buttocks with her hand, revealing the prepared opening, glistening with sealant. Denis unceremoniously placed the head of his penis at the entrance and pressed. The taut flesh parted with a wet smack, and his cock slid inside all the way to the base. Kira cried out and arched, pressing her forehead against the cool tile. "Connection quality confirmed," she muttered hoarsely as Denis began to pound her steadily from behind. The blonde's heavy breasts swayed in time, and rhythmic moans escaped her lips. Zhanna, not wanting to be left out, squatted down in front of Kira and, lifting her head, began to lick her friend's protruding clitoris, simultaneously plunging two fingers inside her. Her wet vagina squelched with each movement. "Testing the combined loading system," the brown-haired woman commented, looking away for a second, "the instruments are going off the charts." She stood up and kissed Denis passionately, pushing Kira aside. His cock popped out of the blonde's anus with a wet sound, and Zhanna immediately guided it into her mouth, greedily enveloping the head and shaft with her lips. She sucked so vigorously that Denis's balls slapped her chin, and a mixture of saliva and silicone lubricant dripped from her lips. Then she released the wet organ and, turning her back, leaned her hands on the displayed boxes of tiles. "Now measure me, manager. Show me how your fitting handles the tight rubber coupling." Zhanna's anus, wet from the treatment, clenched tightly, accepted the head with difficulty. Denis pushed in, and Zhanna let out a short squeal and immediately bit her lip. "It's okay, the sealant will make up for it," Kira encouraged, walking over and unceremoniously taking her friend's penis, which had gone limp after anal sex, in her hand. She began to jerk him off, simultaneously inserting two fingers into Zhanna's vagina. She writhed in orgasm, screaming at the ceiling, thrusting her pelvis back and forth against his thrusts. Denis felt his insides tighten. He pulled out of Zhanna and, without warning, came hard onto the glossy surface of the display tiles. Whitish streams spread across the perfectly smooth glaze, some of them landing on the advertising brochures spread out. "The final stage of the test is polishing the surface to give it a shine," Kira said hoarsely, grabbing a bottle of tile polish. She poured the viscous liquid onto her breasts and began smearing it across her nipples, stomach, and pubic area, leaving greasy, oily streaks. Zhanna, breathing heavily, followed suit, and soon both women gleamed in the lamplight like freshly polished bathtubs. Denis, leaning his back against the shelf, caught his breath. "I think both candidates have excellent credentials," he said. "We'll have to consider the option of two senior shifts." At that moment, a groan was heard from the utility room, which they thought was locked, and Uncle Kolya, the security guard, appeared—an elderly man with a gray mustache. He was clutching his lower back. "Well, actors... I spent half my shift staring at the monitor. At first I thought they were showing a real movie about plumbing, but then I took a closer look—and it's you who are just... stalling." He coughed sheepishly. "I, uh... wrote down in the observation log that the inventory went off without a hitch. And the entry... well, maybe we should delete it? Or put it on the honor roll?" Kira, lazily wiping the sealant off her thighs with her signature microfiber cloth, chuckled: "Leave a note, Uncle Kol. Head office might ask for a sales workshop. We're ready to do it again. Right, Jeanne?" The brunette was already pulling on her jeans, adjusting her disheveled hair. She smiled and winked at the ceiling camera, which continued to calmly record the final act of the night's inventory in the "Bathroom Supplies" department.