I call him the Candyman. Not to his face, not to anyone, but that’s what he is to me. Sweet and tempting and good God do I want him. Every morning at around 10:45, always looking the same, always gorgeous, always spotting that smirk, he’ll stroll in, he’ll smile and it’ll make me wanna come.
When I got this job I was wondering what the hell I was doing. Sometimes I still wonder what I’m doing here, why I’m wasting my time and my life. I should apply somewhere else, like an office or maybe even try to get a waitress position at a nice restaurant downtown. At this job, I get paid shit, I’m usually bored out of my mind, and I have to deal with cranky, normally elderly customers.
I need to re-jump start my life and working at Hannah’s Gift Shop is not how it’s going to happen.
It’s one of those jobs that’s easy, thoughtless; in fact I think I lose brain cells every time I clock in. When I was hired I spent a day in training: a day in learning how to stock figurines and how to find boxes and what the difference was between Jim Shore and Willow Tree, Enesco and Demdaco. These are the things I’m giving up brain cells for. After 5 minutes of training I was already bored.
And then he walked in.
He was tall and had short, brown hair that looked like it would curl if it got much longer. Since then it has gotten longer, and it does curl. He had his hand in his black slack’s pocket and had that smirk on his face. He leaned against the counter and smiled at my co-worker Bev.
“Heylo Beverly,” he said in a sing-songy voice, looking right at her.
I stared at her and then back at him as she copied his voice, “Heylo Justin.”
He was the most attractive man I had ever, ever seen.
“How’s the Precious Moments holding up today? Still creeping you out?”
She shook her shoulders in a physical display of how much she hated those things. She had already told me her theory that they were alive and wanted to kill her earlier in that day, exactly 45 minutes after our manager and owner of the small gift shop had introduced us. “Shut up.”
He leaned in further, smiling secretively and talking low, “You know one of these days their little black eyes are going to blink and you’re gonna see it.”
She rolled her eyes and leaned up against our counter we have behind the register counter and crossed her arms. “You’re an ass.”
“You love me.” He stood upright and laughed and I fisted the bottom of my new, forest green apron in my hand. His laugh still gets to me to this day. I fantasize about hearing it all the time, at the movies or at dinner, or at a bar or at a party, or against my ear while we dance at a club, or against my thigh as he kisses my skin and starts to finger me. “You wanna have my babies and shit.”
Bev put on a fake bimbo voice and sucked the air between her teeth. “Oh my god, and they can like totally get little referee shirts and be so cute, just like daddy.”
Until that point in the conversation I hadn’t found his black and white striped shirt odd. When he walked in and I noticed him I had found it cute and sexy and wanted to see it on the floor of my bedroom, crumbled up with my bra tossed on top of it. He had been there for 3 minutes and I had already fantasized about us in every position I could think of. He was just that good looking.
Or maybe I was just in that much of a need of a good fuck. It hasn’t changed; it’s only gotten worse since I’ve worked here. Reason number 243 I should get a new job.
He stepped back and looked below the counter he was leaning on where we keep a nice supply of candy, name brand and gourmet and over priced. “You moved the Reese’s?”
“We’re out.”
The look he passed Bev was pathetic and sad and I wanted to eat it up. “What?”
“I’m sorry, kid. You know who I work for, she’s not all there.”
“How is Hannah?” He said with a lisps. Hannah is our owner and manager. She’s 40 and single and frazzled and sickly thin. She likes little dogs and figurines and antiques and she terrifies me. I feel sorry for her and one time I had a nightmare that when I turn 40 I’d be single and frazzled and have little dogs and figurines and own a barely-making-it gift shop in a mall just like her.
But in that moment when Justin asked how our manager was, he also bent down and picked up a Toblerone and our eyes met. I remember licking my lips and trying to look away so he wouldn’t realize I’ve been staring at him this whole time. But I couldn’t move. His eyes were blue, dark, intense, and when he licked his own lips I felt like I might crash to the floor and start having spontaneous orgasms or something.
“Who’s this?”
He kept staring at me.
“Oh…” Bev said as if she had kind of forgotten I was there. She does that sometimes. I don’t think it’s because I’m boring or forgettable, in fact I know I’m a pretty funny girl and I know how to have a good time. Bev just always seems to be thinking five things at once. “This is Jess, she’s new. I’m training her. I think this one might last a week.”
Justin laughed and I realized I was on the outside of some joke that might possibly be about me. “What?” I said. I meant for it to be girly and kind of ditzy, but it came out loud and a little harsh.
And I mortified myself. I remember going on lunch break that day and cursing myself for being so awkward.
Bev passed me a sympathetic look and waved her hand at me as she rang him up. “I’m teasing girl. I know this place is boring, but hell you get to work with me!”
He took his Toblerone bar, reached over the counter and tapped Bev on the head with it. I was so jealous of her then. She passed him a look like he was crazy and he laughed and said, “Well I gotta go since you don’t have my Reese’s. I’ll have to walk all the way to SweetEscape and have to deal with their bad attitude and I’ll have to speed walk back to the store and look like a loser ‘cause you know my staff is mentally challenged.”
I knew he wasn’t going to the other candy shop. I knew then that whenever we wouldn’t have Reese’s he’d go for a Toblerone, more expensive and less satisfying. But in this moment I found it adorable and sexy that he could put a dorky image in our heads of him speed walking with a stern look on his face back to his store. It turned me on that he was able to make fun of himself and that he was that in love with Reese’s cups.
“You should use that whistle and keep them in line,” Bev had said.
I’ll never forget how he looked down at his chest and picked up his whistle and pouted. He looked at Bev with big eyes and sniffed. And then brought the whistle to his lips and let out a loud clear noise. I had gasped, “Oh my god…” and then covered my mouth because I felt like a moron for being shocked by his little action. A lady that was over by some Beanie Babies had glared at all of us at the loud noise but I don’t think any of us cared, especially me.
He was looking at me in that moment, eyebrows a little narrowed, and this curious look on his face.
He dropped the whistle as Bev laughed at him and he waved at us with his bar of candy and smiled. “Later girls…nice meeting you Jess.”
He winked at me. And I immediately remembered my conversation with my brother the night before about how winking was the lamest, stupidest thing a guy could ever do to try to flirt with a woman.
And here I was ready to run and tackle that man to the floor and rip his clothes off and ride him, right in front of Bev and the Beanie Baby woman and everyone, all because he had winked at me.
He left the entrance to our store, walking smooth, casually, waving to someone across the walkway by the Babbage’s game store.
I still can’t believe I remember it all clearly. I guess it’s because I think about it when I go to bed many a nights, thinking about how I wished he would have grabbed and put me up on the counter and fucked me without saying a word. I think about his fingers on my skin and his lips against mine and every fucking part of him, fucking every part of me.
“That’s Justin.” Bev had said, snapping my gaze from the backside of his frame to her dark eyes. “He manages Foot Locker. He’s hot, but annoying.” I don’t remember doing anything but I guess the look I was giving her, or the way I was breathing or something gave her the hint. She ended up slapping her hand to her forehead and groaning, “Oh lord, not you, too!”
And ever since then I was hooked. Bev teased me about it for a while, well she still does, but now she encourages it. At first she had warned me, told me that he flirted with everyone, which he does. She used to stay up there with me, almost like a chaperone. But now, now for some reason she always helps me out, she encourages it.
Like my best friend Liz who tells me I should just ask him out and cut the shit. But if I do that it might make it awkward and he won’t come up here anymore. And I’d rather go home to my vibrator and thoughts of him every night than not ever see him and his damn Reese’s obsession ever again.
So as Bev and Liz say, I stay a chicken and I just flirt and I just torture myself. Whenever he comes in, if I’m in the stock room she’ll buzz for me twice, 2 short presses of out “help” button behind the counter and I fly up front, trying to make it look not too obvious. Usually carrying something in my arms or with a question ready to ask Beverly, a question she’ll know is complete bull shit.
At first he seemed a little shy with me and would maybe just look at me a few times and pick on Bev. And then one day I was suddenly included in on all the jokes and the teasing. He talks to me now; he talks to me a lot now. I mean it’s not anything serious, nothing more than how am I doing and teasing me.
Bev says he flirts with me, like really flirts with me, different from everyone else. But to me he seems to flirt with Bev, too, so I don’t let it go to my head too much.
Well, sometimes I do.
Especially when there’s no one else in the store, no customers, and Hannah isn’t there, which is more often than not. When it’s just me and Bev up at the counter and he’s leaning against it, already paid for his Reese’s and making little moaning noises, asking me if I want some and then pulling it away from me. Sometimes Bev will sigh and say she’ll be back and pretend to go do something just so I can be alone with him.
Our conversations usually have to do with him making fun of the crap we sell in the store, or him reading the nutrition contents on the back of his Reese’s pack, or him sarcastically complimenting me on my green apron, especially when I have Styrofoam and lint stuck to it.
It’s pathetic.
And it gets my panties in a knot.
I’ve had tons of crushes in my life and a couple boyfriends, but never, ever in my life have I wanted someone as bad as him. I fill up my time fantasizing about him when I should be looking for another job or restocking balloons or stuffed animals.
He never stays longer than 5 minutes and never stays shorter than 2. Sometimes he’ll have to rush back to his store but he always talks, he always says some smart ass comment and he always, always leaves my mouth dry and thirsty. He always leaves me horny as hell.
It’s not just that he’s attractive either. I mean I don’t know a whole lot about him, but he is kind of sweet and cute. And you can tell he’s a nice guy, I think. I mean I’ve never heard Bev say a bad thing about him and she seems to know him a lot better than I do. Whatever, he’s still a perfect catch.
It’s not fair.
But I guess there’s a lot of shit that’s not fair, like the fact that my life is retail hell. I’m better than this. I’m a smart girl, I could be doing better than this. But I’m only twenty two and I’m not in school. I spent the last four years of my life busting my ass trying to work my way up to a manger position at a furniture store, to still only be considered a measly “sales associate” at the time the store went out of business. I love the titles they give us, as if to glorify us. We’re retail workers, mall rats, peons; let’s not try to mask ourselves in tricky word play.
I went back and stayed with my parents for a month after I lost my job at the furniture store. After about two days I realized I couldn’t live with them anymore. After being rejected from every college I applied to I worked at the furniture store and made enough money until I was able to move out of the house and into my own apartment when I was twenty. But this time around, without a job, living at my parents, with little money and too much fear to try to take a community college class, I was determined to get a job, a real job this time. I applied and applied, trying to get something a little better than a damned retail job.
And here I am, stocking candy at a shitty little gift shop in a shitty little mall. I told myself it was just something to do, something easy, a paycheck that wouldn’t stress me. It was a job that I wouldn’t take home, a job that would allow me to look for a real job in my off hours. Five months later I’m still here, full time, Monday-Friday, waiting for the candyman with Bev.
Beverly is a single mom, she had a kid when she 16 and now 7 years later, she works here full time, takes online night classes and works at her mom’s hair salon on Saturday’s. On Sunday’s she and her son and her boyfriend Dwanye go to church, go out to eat and then go see a matinee kids’ movie. She’s only a year older than me but sometimes I feel so fucking naïve and stupid compared to her.
I crave her organization, her simple scheduled life. She never has to question what she’s doing that night or that weekend, never has the constant fear that she’ll be left alone watching TBS movie marathons, like me, trying to drown out the sounds of make-shift beer pong in the next room and loud, crappy rap music.
My brother’s roommate ditched him right around the time I moved in with mom and dad, and since he needed a roommate and I didn’t want to be at my parents, I moved in with him. I love my little brother to death, but it really sucks living with a twenty year old frat kid, especially on Friday and Saturday nights.
I’m trying to save up so that I’ll have enough money for my own place, or maybe I’ll meet someone that’s cool who needs a roommate. But until then I’ll have to deal with my little brother begging me to buy him alcohol, and listening to all his drunken friends slur as they try to hit on me. When I first moved in with him I thought to myself that maybe this would be good. I’d meet one of his frat brothers or a friend and we’d fall in love and have passionate sex every night.
And then I realized I hated most college guys, they were disgusting and rude and drunk.
I’m almost to the point where I think I’ll be able to afford a little 400 a month studio apartment. They’ve got these new ones that aren’t too far from the mall. Like I could walk and that would really cut back on gas and…
Buzzz. Buzzz.
The buzzer scares me and excites me so much that I drop the JellyBellys that were in my right hand and clutch the box that was in my left. I look down to the left hand and read the faded black print on the cardboard box: Reese’s.
God I love my job.
I walk quickly out of the open stock room door and charge down the far aisle towards the registers. Bev is walking towards me, eyes wide. She passes me and says, “He got his haircut.” She fans herself, laughs and continues back to the stock room. I feel like running up there, but know I can’t or I’ll give myself away.
I keep walking as fast as possible until I near the register and I slow myself down. There’s the “Balloon Center” beside the register blocking him from my view and I take a moment to breathe and collect myself.
I pass the “Balloon Center” and get behind the register and look up.
Fuck...
He looks good. More than good. He looks…he looks like a fucking model or something. I don’t know but he just looks so much older and sexier, if that’s even fucking possible. And he has a slight stubble against his cheeks and chin and jaw that makes him look a little rugged and, and so damn fuckable.
“Heylo Jessica.” He smiles, leaning on one elbow against the counter.
I smile back and go closer to where he is, “Heylo Justin. Got you a present.”
“Me?” He looks surprised and excited.
I slap the cardboard box on the counter and pull out my box cutter from the pocket on the bottom of my apron. “Fresh off the truck.”
“Oh my god…” I cut into the tape on the sides and top of the box and he leans closer and whispers, “You’re just trying to turn me on aren’t you? Aren’t you?”
I gulp and quickly pull the blade down where it’s safe. He can’t say those little flirty comments when I have a knife in my hand. It’s dangerous. “Shh, you might scare the old ladies.” I nod off to a woman who’s in our store with a cane. She’s already knocked over a bucket of small yard flags when she came in.
He looks and then turns back, both elbows on the counter, staring right at me and smiling, “Why do you think I come in here everyday? I like ‘em wrinkly.”
“Gross.” I push at his shoulder. I’ve done this before when he’s being silly and it’s the only contact I’ve ever had with him. I need to change the subject before I start panting, so I pull the box over close to me and pry the orange and brown container of candy out from the cardboard box. There’s 2 containers in each box and I know we already have half a container still in the rack, but I need something to do, something to distract me. “Speaking of, what did you do to your hair?”
“It was getting long.” He shrugs and I put a fresh Reese’s package on the counter for him and then proceed to take the other container out of the cardboard box and break down the box.
“It was cute.”
“You don’t like this?” He points to his head.
I fake apathy and roll my eyes. “No, no this is nice, too.” In all honestly I fucking love it. It’s short on the sides but a little longer up top, no more curls, just short little bristles that would feel so damn good against my fingers. I bet it would piss me off, too if we were together. I’d see his haircut and think it was hot and then we’d start to fuck, and I’d have nothing to grab onto anymore. I’d be pissed and start grinding hard and rough and…
Shit.
His palms flatten on the counter and he leans in further. “Do you want to touch it?”
Yes, God yes.
“Do you want me to check for tics and lice?” I say, cursing myself of why I had to go the middle school route instead of grabbing his face and sucking his tongue into my mouth.
“Ya know, I saw this thing on TV and apparently monkey’s get like a big part of their daily diet from the bugs they groom out of other monkey’s hair.”
I laugh. He’s so fucking random. “Maybe I should start hiding the Reese’s in my ponytail.”
“Ooo…” He narrows his eyes and looks me up and down, well as much as he can see of me behind the waist-high counter. “Maybe you should.”
I scan the Reese’s and hold out my hand. He gives me exact change, in coins, like he does every day, unless we’re out of Reese’s. Then he’ll reach in his pocket and pull out a 5 and gets his Toblerone and his extra change.
And as always, he immediately starts opening the package as I tear his receipt in two and let it flutter into the trash. “You want a bite?”
I shake my head at him, “Of course I do, but you’re a tease.”
He pats his stomach. “Nah, I had a big breakfast.”
“How do you not get fat eating these things?”
“I am fat.” I roll my eyes and he laughs and takes a bite. He eats them slowly and takes medium sized nibbles, as if he’s savoring it. “Some people when they get bored they do crosswords, or read, or shop, or drink…I work out.”
“You must have a boring life.” I realize what I’ve said half way through the sentence and immediately feel my face burn. We flirt pathetically, like kids, but rarely do we comment about the other’s appearance. And here I go pretty much admitting that he’s got a hot body.
Shit.
“You’re blushing…” And of course he calls me out on it. “Little Jess is blushing…” He leans into me a little and if the counter wasn’t separating us there’s no telling what might happen.
“Are you going to let me have that?” I say to the rest of the cup he has in his hands, the chocolate is just barely melting against his thumb and forefinger.
“I think I might share it with Grandma over there. Maybe she’ll be my girlfriend.” He smiles, glances at the old lady with the cane and then looks back at me.
“I thought you already had like 20 girlfriends.”
“Not one with an ass like that.”
I shouldn’t condone someone talking perverted about little old ladies, but I can’t help but love it when he teases like this. It’s cute and adorable and pathetic. “Gross!”
“Here...” He waves the slither of Reese’s in front of my face and I just stare at him. “Eat it…” His voice drops an octave and he chants, “You know you wanna eat it…”
Something comes over me, spontaneity, insanity, clarity, something. I lean forward and bite the chocolate out of his fingers. He just looks at me amazed as I chew and try not to laugh and try not to let the fact that I think my lip just touched his index finger make me cream myself. He looks down at his chocolate stained fingers and then back at me. “You just ate my Reese’s.”
“Be careful waving tempting stuff in front of my face. I don’t have any restraint.”
“Really?” His eyebrows raise and he sucks the chocolate off his fingers and stares right at me. I gulp. Holy shit is he…is he trying to, to say something. Is he insinuating something? He just stares at me, those eyes staring right into mine.
He swallows hard, just like me and even though I’ve never really thought about it before now I seem to, I seem to wonder if…if maybe he feels it, too. If maybe the reason he comes here everyday isn’t the candy but…but….
No. Don’t go there. He flirts with everyone, you know this. Everyone knows this. He’s known as the mall flirt. He’ll go into a store and flirt with any girl that works there under the age of 65. But…but this store is the only one he goes into everyday. I break my eyes from him and he takes a deep breath as the little old lady with the cane comes up behind him with a few things in her hands. He glances at her and smiles at me kindly, “I should go. See ya tomorrow Jess.”
I wave and before I know it it’s out of my mouth and into the air, “See ya, candyman.”
He turns back around for a moment, walking backward a few steps and smirking at me. He sticks his tongue out, turns back around and walks out the store and to the right and out of my vision.
I want him so bad and it’s not fucking fair that I can’t have him.
The old lady says with a shaky voice resting her items on the counter, “He was a handsome young man.”
And it’s really fucking sad that even this old decrepit looking woman knows how unfair it is.
----
Candyman? Well, I guess I kind of am a candy man. I love candy. It’s my one weakness. I don’t eat a lot of fast food and I work out a lot. But god damn do I love Reese’s cups.
I probably wouldn’t be as addicted to them if she didn’t work there. It use to just be a thing I did every other day or so. Now I’m up there every fucking day and she is, too. Small and cute, little green apron tight on her breasts, straps all tied in a little bow right above her round ass.
I know I’ll never have the chance to fuck little candygirl Jess, but good fucking God do I wish I could.
I love to flirt and I know I’m an ass about it most of the time but whatever. I flirt with all the ladies that work in the mall and most of them flirt back. But we all know it’s harmless.
But not with her. With her it’s dangerous as hell.
She’s the hottest girl in this fucking place. Hell, she’s the hottest girl I’ve seen in a long, long time. It’s not like she’s one of those girls that you see walking around with their designer bags and high heels and they just know they are the shit and you find yourself just staring at them. No Jessica is more subtle. When you first see her you know she’s pretty but then the more you see her and the more you get to know her, the more it’s just like hot damn!
She’s small and cute and her smile and laugh is one I wanna see everyday, every night. God, you’d think I was twelve instead of twenty five the way I fantasize about this girl. And…and I can’t fucking believe she took that Reese’s from my fingers today with those little pouty lips of hers. Like serious, fuck me!
She just stared at me and giggled when she did it. I wanna hear that giggle when I’m fucking her. This is bad, this is real bad.
Thank God that stupid little gift shop has candy and thank God it’s closer to my store than the candy shop on the other end of the mall. If not I might not even know she existed.
Bev tells me I should just ask her out, but I don’t know. As far as I know she has a boyfriend. Bev says she doesn’t, but then again Bev’s been trying to get me to have a serious girlfriend ever since we became friends. I actually went to school with her but she was a few years younger than me and I didn’t really know her then. We’ve got a couple mutual friends and actually the guy she’s dating now used to work with me when I first started working in the mall.
Sometimes I wanna look her up and call her and ask her all about Jess and see if maybe she’s interested in me, but I don’t want to look too desperate. I never wanna seem that pathetic with a woman. Normally, if I like a girl I’ll just go after her and, not to be a cocky asshole, but normally she’ll say yes. But I just can’t risk it with her. Plus I don’t date mall chicks. There’s just usually too much drama and I don’t want to get stuck here.
I mean I like being a manager and shit but I don’t want to manage a fucking Foot Locker for the rest of my life. That’s why I’m taking business classes at night. But lately it’s just gotten worse because all I do in class is think about getting a blow job from Jess’s sexy mouth, her white teeth lightly scraping and her tongue all around the head of…
“Hey man…”
Fuck…
I clear my throat. Shit, I think my other Reese’s is melting in my hand. I nod at the FedEx man, purple and black uniform, pushing a hand truck with gloves. There was a time when I thought about being a delivery man. Apparently they get paid pretty good. But for a single guy who lives pretty cheap I get paid pretty good, too.
“What’s up, Todd?” I say.
He passes me and says, “Next shipment is yours. It’s a big one.”
I wave to him and start to go down the steps. “Awesome.”
Good, good. I needed that distraction and having to check in tons of merchandise will do just that. I gotta get this girl off my brain. And it sucks. Like my buddy Pete keeps trying to get me to just fuck around like he does. He always, always has these hot chicks hanging around and they never seem to mind not getting serious with him. They seem to like just hooking up. Which is weird to me ‘cause every girl I’ve ever known wants more and it can get dramatic.
But I’ve been there and I’m not so sure I want to just “hook up” anymore. I know I probably need to. A good fuck would probably get her off my mind.
I just don’t know how it’s gonna work when the only person I really wanna fuck is her.
And it’s not just that I want to see her naked or I want to fuck her real hard. I want to do everything with her. I want to do it slow and fast and every way I know how. I wonder if she’s wild or if she’s sweet or shy or kinky. And any way I wonder turns me on.
I think about her when I’m at the gym, thinking about working out with her and seeing her in little tight ass shorts, her chest and neck all sweaty, and taking her home, fingering her the whole way on the ride and fucking her right inside the doorway of my condo. I’ll be making dinner and I’ll think about her in my kitchen, hands on my counter, bent foreword with just a little skirt on, and me fucking her from behind all hard. And sometimes when I’m just laying on my couch watching a game or something I’ll look down and wish she was in between my legs on her knees sucking me off, or on top of me, bouncing just lightly on my dick, making little tiny high pitched “uh” noises.
And…and sometimes, when it just gets too fucking much and I’m laying there, jacking off, half pissed off at myself for having to be that pathetic and masturbate, I’ll think that maybe, maybe at the same time she’s there on her bed, sprawled out, legs spread, breathing hard with her hand in between her legs, moving fast and swift, or…or…
Fuck or maybe she’s there with a vibrator or a dildo….
I run my free hand over my face. Good lord this is like a sickness. I’m obsessed or something. I need therapy.
When I saw her on her first day I was amazed by how cute she was, but I didn’t really pay attention. I was just thankful we finally had a hot girl around. Not to be a prick, but a lot of these mall girls are skanks. The more I went back to her store, the more she started coming around. Soon she started playing around with me and Bev and now, for some reason, probably ‘cause she wants me to make a move on her, Bev always disappears when I come up there and leaves me and Jess alone.
One day I finally asked my assistant manager, Kev, if he knew her. Kevin always seems to know everything about everyone and of course he knew her. In fact he went to high school with her and graduated with her. She went to one of the county schools whereas me and most of the people I know went to city schools. He told me she was a really cool girl, not really in any of the cliques but just one of those people that everyone liked. Apparently she had her group of friends but was never really exclusive and wasn’t one that could be defined by what they were into. He said most of her friends went off to college but she didn’t and ended up working full time somewhere.
It made her seem mysterious. And that just turned me on.
When I first started fantasizing about her like I do, I just thought she was hot, but now, now I realize it is a lot more than that, ‘cause I also wonder about her. I wonder what she does on weekends and what she does when she leaves at 5:30 and if she drinks beer or cocktails, if she likes clubs better than bars, if she likes scary movies, or if she has a dog or cat, if she wears thongs or regular panties.
If she owns any lingerie.
Shit.
I’ll never forget the day I saw her walk into Victoria’s Secret, which just happens to be right across from my fucking store. Her store is on the upper level, nestled in the corner by Macy’s and mine’s on the first level, five stores up from Macy’s.
I’ll never forget. I was putting up a new display in the front window and I saw her and I guess a friend or a sister or something with her. They were laughing and walked right in. And the thing about our Victoria’s Secret is that it’s huge, its got almost three entrances, one for the little pajama Pink stuff, one for the makeup shit and then one where all the kinky stuff is.
And of course, she walked right into the kinky shit. I stared at her, straining my eyes to see her but of course she got behind a display and then got further in the store.
I probably looked like a loser too, standing there with New Balance’s in one hand and Jordan’s in the other just staring at Victoria’s Secret.
I took so long to work on that display, glancing every few minutes at the store, trying to see her or see if she came out with a bag.
I got a call from our owner and had to take it and I never got to see her leave the store, but I like to think she left with a big ass bag full of lacy thongs and frilly corsets and shit.
I like to think one day I’ll go home and she’ll be there with her big bag of lingerie and she’ll walk up to me and kiss me and grab my dick and whisper something like, “sit back, I wanna give you a fashion show.”
I’m a fucking loser.
I enter my store and see Mika sitting down on one of the benches and Ty standing up talking to her. There’s a box and two bags of merchandise beside them.
“Hey guys…” I say and Mika immediately stands up. “Talk and work at the same time, alright?” They nod and immediately get back to work. My crew here is a good staff. Sometimes they just need to be reminded that we have things to do and that you can have a conversation with a co-worker and put out stock at the same time.
There’s a guy looking at some of the athletic wear we have and I smile at him, “How are you doing today, sir?” He nods at me and goes back to looking so I don’t’ bother him. I’m pretty good at reading customers and knowing when to push and when to back off and let them browse.
I pass the registers and nod at the young guy we hired a couple months ago, “Curtis... come here…”
He’ll be a senior in high school this fall and this is his first job, but he seems to be a good kid and I kind of feel bad for him because his mom has cancer and is in pretty bad shape.
“Hey…” I look back at Mika and Ty, “Ya’ll watch the register.” They nod and I walk back to the stock room with Curtis following me. When we get in there I sit down at the computer and point over to the two cardboard boxes that are filled with other broken down cardboard boxes in them. “Will you take those boxes out for me? We got a shipment coming in.”
The mall has those big cardboard recycling bins and I figure this will give us some space back here for the new shipment and give Curtis a change to use his cell phone and check up on his mom.
He passes me a small smile and gets out the handtruck so he can take the boxes out the back door. “Thanks man.”
I peel back more of the plastic covering the Reese’s, it’s melted just slightly and I cant help but think about her lips barely on my fingers and the chocolate on her tongue. I could feel her breath on my hand when she took it from me, warm and moist. God damn I wonder what she tasted like after she ate that candy.
The heavy slam of the back door makes me jump a little and I look back to see that Curtis has left before I reach my hand down and put pressure on my dick to try to make it go down a little. Shit, she should be arrested for making me this fucking rock solid.
I pull the chocolate from the white cardboard base and bite down. Maybe it’ll calm me down. It’s usually bad the 30 minutes after I get my Reese’s and by lunchtime I’ve usually calmed down from my little gift shop visit. By then we usually get a rush then and I normally have product to sort and employees to keep in line.
Still, today she called me Candyman, and now, now all I can think about is how sweet she is, how tempting she is and how I crave her more than I’ve ever craved a fucking Reese’s.
