Emma in the storeroom [MF]

This is the demanded follow up post to this, about my coworker Emma.

Emma under the registers [MF] from eroticliterature

It took me at least half an hour to respond normally to customers after Emma’s teasing left a wet trail of saliva across the front of my pants atop a bulge that refused to abate. I was hoping for an escalation the next time that our shifts crossed, but it seemed as though she had regrets, because she shifted position on the roster, removing our time together. I could’ve tried to move my own work hours but I guessed she had her reasons and I let it be.

I didn’t see her in person for at least a month. Then in the lead up to Christmas the store did a stocktake and it was all hands on deck. That meant that all 6 regular staff were booked in for a long couple of shifts over a Monday/Tuesday. Some of this was in the store, but a lot of it was in back, out of sight of customers. The back of the store was cramped and a bit stuffy, the space was made tight by dusty shelves of poorly selling books and the floor was stained here and there with the ghosts of paint spills. 

 While the owner was widely hated, the 6 of us got along pretty well. I worked with Emma, three other women and one man. The latter was gay, and I probably flirted as much with him as the others (Emma obviously excluded) just for the fun of it. Stocktake was long and boring, but we could keep up a steady banter, and after the shop closed for the night someone would usually reveal a bottle of something to pass around and undermine our counting abilities.

Emma was wearing her trademark, still cliché, red necktie, this time with a cropped white t-shirt and beige dungarees. She looked cute as fuck, and she did nothing to acknowledge what had happened on our last shift together. Luckily she also didn’t acknowledge that she’d been avoiding me either, and after a little bit of awkwardness we got back to flirting with gusto as work sprawled between the registers and the back room.

I took my time when, as the early close time approached, I was set to scanning paintbrushes at one of the counter racks. It gave me a decent line of sight onto her working at the registers and I traded banter with her and Paul (the gay guy) when customers were out of earshot. When it got busy she’d lean forward on the bench as she waited for the next customer and the view of her ass, with a strip of smooth skin visible at the side of her stomach, was magnificent. When she caught me staring I did nothing to hide my gaze, instead taking the risk of looking her up and down appreciatively. She responded with a smirk and arched her back just a little bit more.

After 5pm the shop closed for the night, and we tried to get a festive atmosphere going with music as Grace (the owner) ducked in and out offering directions and misgivings. With all 7 of us moving through the store there was no chance of a repeat of Emma’s under the counter performance, but we both found ourselves passing each other in tight spaces more often than was probably necessary.

Clambering through and over stacks of canvases or lino blocks I’d let one hand brush the bare skin above her hips, as she’d squeeze past me, her ample ass deliberately grazing the front of my pants. We were both clearly driven to distraction, and stocktake dragged on leaving me to  feel a strange mix of boredom and arousal.

Grace left at 8 or so, and we turned the music up until it almost drowned out the occasional patches of conversation. The lights inside meant that the shop was a bit like an aquarium, and Paul and I used the excuse of not wanting passing customers to see the mess by the entrance to cover the display windows with old prints.

This was the chance everyone had been waiting for and with relish Nicole (one of the other women, who’d been working there almost as long as Grace) produced, of all things, a bottle of cognac to pass around. It was getting hot with all the doors closed, and Emma unbuttoned the top part of her dungarees after passing me the bottle. I could taste a remnant of her flavoured chapstick before the cognac hit my mouth. Looking down the line of the bottle as I slugged I could see that her shirt was sticking slightly from sweat and her cleavage and stomach glistened with it.

I should’ve paid more attention to my drinking because I wound up coughing and wheezing at the burning in my throat. She whacked me on the back and laughed, telling me I should be more careful if I couldn’t handle my liquor, because ‘who knows’ where I’ll end up.

Unfortunately for me, I’d finished my work in the front of the shop, so I made my way to the back, turning a deliberately blind eye to Paul sneaking a couple of expensive watercolour brushes into his satchel. He covered himself by teasing me about Emma: ‘you two should just fuck and get it out of your system, we’re never going to get off work at this rate’. I wasn’t one to disagree.

An hour or so and an empty bottle of cognac later and I was slightly tipsy and sick of numbers. Two of my co-workers left, because they were opening in the morning, which left me, Paul, Emma and Nicole to do a bit more before getting the shop ready for the morning.

Paul raised an eyebrow at me when Emma finally joined us in the back. In the heat I’d undone most of the top buttons of my linen shirt and rolled up the sleeves. I met Emma’s ogle at my chest, mimicking her earlier smirk. The topics of conversation stayed salacious, which was always the case when Paul was involved, and we talked about everything from how we lost our virginity to teachers we’d liked to have fucked. After maybe twenty minutes of this Emma chided Paul: ‘what are you trying to do with these questions, I’m horny enough as it is’.

His abrupt reply was to announce that he should probably help Nicole with tidying up out front.

He left us alone in back letting the security door swing closed, and there was a moment of awkwardness as I tried to think of an excuse to drop the pretense of working. We both settled on the excuse of the dregs of the cognac bottle at the same moment.

It stayed abandoned on the shelf as we met. She met me with greedy brandy flavoured kisses and I reached down to grab her ass with one hand, pulling her to me almost roughly with the other.

She whimpered a bit at this, her breathe coming in small exhalations as I nibbled her neck with my teeth before squeezing her ass and lifting her up onto the rickety wooden admin desk. I was ravenous so shoddy carpentry and the presence of two coworkers just metres away were driven away by blood rushing south.

Dungarees are poorly designed for such things but both of our fumbling managed to unbutton the sides, and I pulled them down to her thighs. Her panties went with them.

Knowing that we’d probably have only a few seconds between hearing the keypad and discovery, I figured that the last few hours of teasing counted as foreplay. She leaned forward and grabbed my cock through my pants and started to go for my zipper but I took charge. I guided her firmly to lean back and my right hand found her swollen pussy. It was an awkward angle but she was slippery wet and needy as I rubbed her in a steady rhythm.

She’d responded well when I pushed her back so with my left hand I choked her lightly in between intense kisses and feeling her glorious tits through her top. It was only moments before she swore ‘fuck, I’m going to cum, don’t stop’. I could feel her body start to shudder as I kept at it, my nostrils filling with the smell of her – sweat, cognac, chap stick mingling with the sticky sweetness between her legs.

She made ‘mmhh mmmhh’ sounds as I covered her mouth and she came hard, slumping against me awkwardly with the table nearly giving in. Her arms around my shoulders and my own support propped her up as the shaking in her legs subsided. I looked towards the small strip of one way glass in the security door, wondering if I had the time to follow up by bending her over the table and sliding my aching cock into her as she was still tingling.

It was then that she swore, with a lot less pleasure. She was looking horrorstruck at a ringing phone in her hand.

Her boyfriend had arrived to drive her home.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/qkcjup/emma_in_the_storeroom_mf