Managing A Store
I was recently given a ‘promotion’ by the company I worked for. Did you notice the quotation marks around the word promotion? I included those because it was a really iffy promotion. I was being despatched to the hinterlands to try and turn around a store we had in a mall. A few years back it had been a going concern but recently takings had dropped significantly. It wasn’t a going concern any longer and it was costing the company money. The company’s answer? Send in an expendable to try and rescue the place. I was apparently the next expendable in line.
The very first day I approached the mall I knew where a large part of the problem lay. Mall maintenance had not been kept up and it showed. A tour of the place showed why the maintenance hadn’t been kept up. Half the shops were empty, depriving the mall owners of their rental income. No income and no money for essentials like maintenance.
I had a bit of a chat to various shop owners and they all had the same answer. Blasted internet. The owner of the mall refused to believe that internet shopping was the future and refused to adjust rents when custom dropped significantly. Unable to pay high rents on low income various shops went out of business. The owner still wanted the old rentals for the vacant shops and was getting no takers.
I strolled along to Busts R Us (No. That’s not the real name of our store.) and introduced myself to the pretty young things who were there to serve our customers — if any.
The girls were Violet, call me Vi, and Eugina, call me Gina. (Call me Eu and die was the subtext to that last snippet.) Both girls were brunettes around nineteen, twenty. Old enough to be able to talk clothing with both older women and younger girls. (And old women who think they’re young girls.)
Both girls were quite attractive and had a clean healthy glow about them, were friendly and personable, and eager to serve what customers we did get. If a customer came through the door the girls would stop what they were doing and check to see if their help was needed. If it wasn’t they’d back off but make sure they were available, all smiles the entire time. Except in the case of some middle-aged women.
For some reason the girls would give service with not quite a snarl to these customers. Neither did the customers seem to buy anything, even after tying up a girl’s time for quite a while. I asked what was going on.
“Those bitches,” groused Vi, “are not real customers. They come in with specific requests and demand to be permitted to try things on. Other times they’ll just browse about until they find just the item they want, always trying them on to make sure they’re just right. Then they note down the details and go and buy the things online at a discounted price. They’re just using us as a fitting service.”
I could see how that might irritate the girls but what could they do? They couldn’t very well refuse to serve them. They’d get the shop bad-mouthed and, in this litigious age, we might even be sued. I wondered if we could charge a fitting fee for women like that. Refundable if they bought the item. Something to think about.
Our parent company had very fixed ideas about suitable attire for any personnel who had dealing with customers. The sales staff had specific uniforms they had to wear and the girls were dressed accordingly. They looked very nice in those uniforms, too, but I did wonder about one minor detail. Their skirts canlı bahis had to come down to at least mid-thigh and I had a suspicion that my two girls might have skirts that were just a wee bit short. Or maybe very short, because there was no way on God’s earth that I was going to ask the girls if I could measure the length of their skirts. Sexual harassment suits lay in that direction. I just smiled and enjoyed the long legs that were on display.
I was going to advice the parent company that there was bad news and a potential for good news. The bad news was that with the current mall ownership our shop was doomed. The good news was that if they could take over ownership of the mall then they could refurbish and start renting to specialty shops that need that personal touch. I was going to strongly suggest that a feasibility study of this be done.
Where the girls were concerned I gave them both high recommendations, saying that they should be transferred to another store if that was feasible. The final decision would be with Human Resources who could be quite ruthless at times. Quite frankly, if they closed the store them my job might be on the scrapheap as well. Only time would tell.
Where I was concerned the girls were mildly flirtatious. That was fine by me. I had no objection to flirting with a couple of pretty young things. I did, of course, keep it low key, what with me being the manager, no matter how temporary.
Everything was going as well as could be expected. I was waiting for head office to come to a decision, marking time as it were, and casually taking notes of the amount of walk-past trade that we were getting. I know that in our lease it guaranteed that we’d have a certain amount of walk-past trade, and by my counting we weren’t getting anything near that number. This would be considered grounds for terminating the lease for cause with no penalties applicable to us.
That’s how things stood when I wandered into the stockroom one day. Gina was lounging out the front in case we got a customer and Vi was in the stockroom, emptying a carton of something or other. I hadn’t realised that we’d sold enough of anything to need to restock but Vi apparently thought otherwise.
She was bent over this big carton, apparently trying to scrabble together some things at the bottom of the carton. Remember those short skirts I mentioned? It appears that they were even shorter than I’d thought. The back of Vi’s skirt had ridden up and her panties were on display.
For some reason when HR specified the sales-staff uniforms they only mentioned outer attire. Incidentals like panties were ignored, probably because even the HR people weren’t quite game to tell young ladies what sort of panties they could wear. If they had put together such a regulation then the panties that Vi had on wouldn’t have made the final cut. Or the short list, for that matter. Probably not even the long list they would use to get started.
Those panties were minuscule, revealing a lot more bottom than panties. I idly wondered if the girls were supposed to wear tights or panty-hose, deciding it didn’t matter as I was just as happy that they didn’t. It really was a quite spectacular view of a young lady’s rump.
A little voice whispered to me ‘say one word and the answer will be sexual harassment’ so I bit my tongue, keeping my mouth firmly closed. Unfortunately my hands didn’t hear what my brain was saying and one hand very bahis siteleri carefully caressed that lovely bottom.
I expected Vi to stand up straight with a squeal. Spinning around and slapping me hard enough to knock my face to the wrong side of my head also occurred to me. Abuse and vitriol were on the cards and I was all ready to start apologising and calling mea culpa.
What actually happened was that Vi gave a small gasp and stopped scrabbling at whatever was in the carton. Seeing that she wasn’t protesting as of yet my hand just kept on stroking her. Hands, actually, as I could see no reason why they shouldn’t both enjoy the bounty before me.
I thoroughly explored that cute little derriere, my hands wandering over the smooth white flesh on offer. Being a gentleman I didn’t try to slip my hands under that excuse for a pair of panties. Why should I? It wasn’t as if they were stopping me from touching everything in sight and there was a lot in sight.
While this was going on Vi was just standing there, bent over the carton, not saying a word. I had noticed that she’d made a sort of hissing noise when my hands got a little too close to the juncture between her legs, but I’d always pulled away at the last moment.
That was about to change. My hands slid over her creamy flesh, slipping between her legs as I rubbed her inner thighs. This also meant that my knuckles were brushing rather roughly against her vulva, but that wasn’t really my fault. I had big hands and rather bony knuckles. Vi still stayed quiet, after a fashion. I’ll admit she made a rather strangled sound at one stage but really, that couldn’t be called speaking.
It occurred to me that if those panties were to drift downwards somewhat I’d have a better playing field. I didn’t think Vi would complain, or possibly even notice, because they really were very small, a scrap of material she’d never miss if I moved it.
She must have noticed, I guess, as when her panties headed downward she made another of those choked sounds deep in her throat. Still, with nothing said and no evidence of a protest I ignored that and let my hands start exploring some more.
Without any material hindering I must admit my hands started paying a little more attention to her vulva, rubbing her lips, easing them apart to let a finger or two slip between them. Vi was making some odd sounds now, twisting about as I touched her, not trying to pull away but just restless. When I found her pushing herself against my hand I realised that I was being remiss and not paying proper attention to what she wanted
I went down on one knee and my tongue started probing where my fingers had been. While my tongue probed hither and yon Vi finally started muttering something. I don’t think it was a protest, more of a prayer from what I could make out. She was certainly appealing to God a lot.
I kept teasing and playing around and it seemed that Vi suddenly decided that enough was enough. Perhaps it was because my tongue was getting over friendly with her clitoris, but she suddenly wailed, “no,” in a desperate sounding voice.
I could take a hint. I rose to my feet, just letting my hand cover her and gently rub her. She seemed to relax a little at this subtle change, but she was certainly breathing hard. Maybe, I decided, she’d prefer a proper internal massage.
I unzipped and let Wee Willy Winkle come out to play. Isn’t it amazing how little things bahis şirketleri grow into quite remarkable specimens? Wee Willy had just achieved this feat and was standing tall and proud. I spread her lips a little, easing Wee Willy into place.
Vi gave a gasp but didn’t repeat her rejection, letting me know that this was a reasonable course of action. I started pressing into her. Knowing what fragile creatures women are I took it nice and slow, hands holding firmly onto her hips, preventing her from doing herself an injury by trying to push herself onto me more aggressively. She was certainly trying to and her language seemed to indicate that she would rather I get a move on but I knew my duty. Slow but steady would get the job done safely.
Once my cock banged home that last inch the rules changed. It was natural that they would. Now we both knew that she could handle what I was giving her so it didn’t matter how fast or how often I donated it.
I started pumping into her, slowly at first and then building it up with a lot more pep as we got our rhythm established. It wasn’t long before I was thrusting in hot and heavy and enjoying every moment of it. Vi was making some very strange sounds as I gave it to her, trying to scream through a tightly closed mouth was my guess. I suppose her natural modesty meant she didn’t want Gina sticking her nose in to see what was going on.
Deciding it was just about time to finish things off I pulled out. I pulled a shocked looking Vi to her feet and turned her to face me. It was the work of a moment to drop her skirt to the floor.
“Legs around my waist,” I told her, hands on her bottom and lifting. Her legs came up and encircled me and I started lowering her back onto my cock. As soon as I started sliding into her I leaned back a little, giving her a clear view down to where I was invading her body once more.
She watched with her eyes wide, giving a long drawn out ah sound as I sank into her. Fully engaged once more I pressed her up against a wall and cut loose. (The back wall as that was fairly solid. I’d hate to imagine what would happen if we used one of the flimsy dividing walls.)
Vi clung to me, flexing her legs and riding me for all she was worth. Not that I was in any position to complain, seeing I was doing precisely the same thing to her.
We reached that point where I was going to climax and she was going to climax and she was also going to scream like a banshee as she climaxed, I just knew it. I leaned forward, capturing her mouth with my own, swallowing her scream even as she started to yell her fool head off.
Neither of us said anything afterwards. She just pulled on her panties and skirt and continued with emptying the box. The only difference now was that she dropped it on its side and then tipped the remaining items onto the floor. After that it was the work of a moment to crouch down and pick them up.
I went about my own work, what there was of it. The annoying thing about the incident was for the rest of the day whenever the girls saw me they’d look at each other and giggle.
Matters that were more important than the girls looking at me and giggling was what had happened between me and Vi. If she was willing, then would Gina also be willing, something I felt it was only fair to both the girls for me to determine. I couldn’t play favourites, now could I?
That led to the next question, if Vi had proved willing and Gina was to prove willing, did that mean I’d be in a position to see if Vi and Gina would prove willing? After the store closed, of course, otherwise one of the girls would have to be out in the front of the shop.