American Apparel

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A new job leads to racy modeling.
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I moved back in with my parents after graduating from university. I'm not proud of that, but I certainly wasn't the only one in my graduating class who did that. And at least I have a job. It's in retail, but a job is a job.

While I was at school, I worked my way up to be an assistant manager at American Apparel, and when I moved back home, they let me transfer to a store near my parents' house. It worked out pretty well, actually. In fact, in the fall, they announced that they'd be opening a new store closer to my home, in the college town one town over. I applied to be the new manager and got the job, which was a great boost.

I wasn't the only kid from my town to move back home after school. We all sort of started hanging out together again as though the four years after high school just didn't happen. I spent a lot of time with my friend Macallister. Mac and I went way back. We played doctor together as kids and were friends throughout high school. I'd maybe made out with him a couple of times, but we'd never been on a date or hooked up or anything.

But he had grown into himself while we were at university. He came back tall, handsome, and built really nicely. I found myself looking at him in a new way. Or if I'm being honest, I found myself looking at him with lust, while in high school he'd just been cute.

Don't tell my boyfriend, though. I left him back at university, where he got a job. I haven't told him about Mac. And Mac had a girlfriend, too. She was grad student at the college in the town over.

I also filled out while away. I was a gangly teen, but I grew into my tall frame and got just the right curves, if I do say so myself. My perky breasts stand up on their own and make great cleavage when pressed together by a bra or a lover's hands, and I'm still slim and in great shape from the running I took up in school.

I'm Emily, by the way, but people call me Em.

In any case, I got the manager job at the new American Apparel and told Mac that he should apply for one of the other new jobs, since he was having a hard time finding work. He landed an assistant manager position, which was great - we'd be working together!

It turns out that when they open a new store, they fly the new managers to LA to do some training and so that we learn the brand (or something like that), so Mac and I were on a business trip in LA in October, which seemed like a sweet deal for broke 22-year-olds.

We arrived Monday afternoon and had a midday flight home on Thursday. We were picked up by a car service from LAX (which was sweet - never had that service before!) and led on a tour of three American Apparel stores that each had made different decisions - decisions about layout and so on that we were in LA to be looped in on as HQ made them about our store.

We shopped a bit in each (I came home with a cute dress and a bikini) and were driven back to our hotel by ten in the evening with instructions to be ready to go at seven the next morning. We said our goodnights and retired to our rooms.

The next day - Tuesday - was a busy day at HQ, looking at designs of the store and being trained on all the company's systems. Mac and I learned the registers, the return rules, and how to keep garbage invisible and stock on the shelves. At seven pm, we were deposited back at the hotel. We went to the bar after quickly going to our rooms. I wanted to change into something cute and splash some water on my face.

I came down to the bar in a short, flirty, floral print halter top dress - the one I'd picked up the day before. Mac was waiting at the bar, and we ordered two beers before moving to the patio, where we stood at a small table, watching the pool.

"I haven't seen this much of you since chemistry class, Em," Mac said.

"Is that a complaint?"

"Oh, no," he said, "I really like working with you. And seeing you so much."

"We do make a good team," I confirmed.

"Here's to a new chapter of working together!" We touched our glasses and drank.

The first beer was nice. We caught up about our studies in university and our families.

The second beer was fun. Mac told me about his college girlfriends. I told him about the time my sophomore roommate had brought home a guy with a cock so enormous that she insisted on showing it to me. We didn't talk about our current significant others.

The third beer was flirtatious.

"Do you remember Jason's graduation party?" Mac asked. "I've been thinking about it every time I look at you this week."

Jason's party was the last of the graduation parties of our friends and a group of maybe six of us stayed late into the night on Jason's porch.

"Yeah? What do you think about?"

"Well," Mac began, "it got to be late and a handful of us were sticking around. You were wearing a dress that I couldn't take my eyes off of. It was red, short, and showed your cleavage. The dress didn't have a back, either, and I spent the afternoon thinking about you without a bra and wondering what it would be like if you untied the straps around your neck holding the dress on."

"Mac!" I slapped his arm playfully.

"You were sexy that night."

"It was a cute dress," I admitted.

"So we were sitting around late into the night and someone - I forget who - asked what our biggest regrets from high school were. Someone said something about not taking enough AP classes."

"I remember what you said," I interrupted. "You said you regretted not asking me out. And I blushed so hard."

"I don't remember your blush, but I do remember what you did next."

"What did I do?" I asked, remembering and feeling a sexual charge in the air.

"You stood up and walked over to me," Mac started, taking my hand. "And then you pushed me so that I laid on my back." He moved my hand to his chest.

"What next?" I breathed.

Mac took my hand and led me to a patio recliner by the pool. He laid down. "You straddled me."

I knelt on the recliner, one knee on either side of Mac's waist. "And?"

"And you pressed yourself into me."

I pushed my panty-clad pussy onto his jeans-encased cock and found it pleasantly hard. "Like this?"

As Mac mumbled yes, I changed the angle of my hips to grind my clit against his hard cock. I moaned. Mac thrust his hips.

I kept my hands on his chest to steady myself as my pussy got wetter and wetter.

"Then what?" I asked.

"Then you rubbed your tits."

I moved my hands from his chest to mine and started to massage my breasts. His hard cock rubbing against my clit - even through our clothes - was getting to me. I was on fire and remembering how hot I felt at eighteen doing this to Mac in Jason's back yard.

I moaned.

"And pinched your nipples."

Pinching my nipples was the final straw for me four years earlier. I remembered how powerful I felt, using Mac's body to make myself cum in front of our friends. I pinched my nipples through the thin fabric of my dress as Mac described the earlier night.

"And then I came," I hissed. "Right there in Jason's back yard with our friends all watching."

Mac moaned and pushed his cock harder against me.

"Then you stood up," he said, "and pulled your panties down."

Oh God, I remembered, I had done that. I flushed with embarrassment and arousal as I stood up to recreate that night. I faced Mac from the foot of the pool lounger he still laid on, his hard-on pressing against his pants. And I looped my thumbs into the hips of my very wet panties and dragged them down my thighs and past my knees. As my panties fell to the ground, I kicked them towards Mac.

"And then I said goodnight and went home," I said, turning around and heading to my room. "See you in the morning, Mac."

I stayed up for another hour, bringing myself to climax after climax and wondering why I left, both that night in the hotel and the night of the party. I like control, I think. And teasing. And I liked knowing that Mac would be thinking of me that night, too. And I felt a twinge of guilt - what would my boyfriend think?

Wednesday morning, I met Mac in the hotel lobby for breakfast.

"Sleep well, Mac?" I asked with a wink. He smiled and got more coffee.

The day was packed with meetings - we'd be leaving straight from the hotel on Thursday, so this was our last day in HQ. Mac and I caught glimpses of each other, but didn't get to talk about anything other than business until that evening.

When the car dropped us off at the hotel, I had an idea. "How about a soak in the hot tub and a bottle of champagne?"

I went to my room to put on the new bikini I'd gotten while Mac got the champagne. He didn't have a suit, so he said he'd strip to his boxers.

When I came down in my bikini (with a white t-shirt on top to keep me decent), Mac was already in the hot tub and had the champagne waiting in an ice bucket.

I peeled off my shirt and threw it on the pile of Mac's clothes and stuck my toe in the hot tub before easing myself all the way in.

I sat close to Mac, our bare thighs touching and our bare ribs touching and his arm around my shoulder. Only his thigh was as bare as mine was in a string bikini. Where were the boxers he said he'd be wearing? Was Mac naked?

My mind rushed as we opened the champagne and talked about the day, about our plans for the store, and about the busy next few weeks preparing for opening. What would my boyfriend think about me in a tub with a naked man? What would Mac's girlfriend think?

After a flute of champagne, I pushed my worries out of my mind. Mac and I were colleagues now, and besides, we weren't both naked. And Mac was covered by the water, so I couldn't really know.

After our third flutes, we maybe got a little silly.

"You know what your new job means, Mac?" I asked, putting my hand on his thigh.

"What, Em?"

"It means you're going to be selling sexy clothes to college hotties."

"I'm ready for that," he said, his hand starting to play with the strap of my bikini top.

"I'm not so sure," I said, standing up in the hot tub to face him. "How would you sell me this bikini?"

"You want to roleplay?" he asked.

"Consider it part of your job interview, Mr. Assistant Manager."

"Well, miss," Mac started his pitch, "this bikini is sure to turn heads at the beach. It's flirtatious and fun."

"What do you think about the fit?"

"You look great in this, miss. You've chosen the right size - see how your chest fills out the top and how the bottom is snug but not too tight."

"You're doing great, Mac," I said, finishing my glass of champagne, "but you can't have a hard-on on the sales floor."

"How do you know I have a hard-on?"

I stepped forward, putting Mac's knees between my legs, and straddled him the way I had the night before, only this time there was only my bikini bottom between us.

I pressed myself into him, rubbing his hard cock along my pussy lips. I shuddered with the sensation. Was this going too far?

"It's in your eyes," I whispered into his ear, leaning forward and putting my bikini-covered breasts just an inch from his mouth.

His cock twitched. "I guess we'll have to practice."

I was turned on again. Something about the flirting, the warm jets of water, and the champagne. I wanted Mac. But I had that boyfriend. Long distance was hard, I thought. Like Mac's cock, I thought. Teasing was ok, I decided. Innocent fun, I decided.

Mac's hands moved up my sides to my ribs, and then, slowly, he reached for the bikini tie on my back.

"Don't," I hissed. "This is just innocent fun."

Mac's hands went back to my hips and he pulled me firmly into his lap, pulled my pussy harder against his cock.

"Innocent fun," he said.

I stood up again.

"Mac," I said, moving the sit on the edge of the hot tub, "can you tell me about the material of this bikini?"

I spread my legs and leaned back on my elbows.

Mac waded over to me and kneeled between my legs, his face eight inches from my bikini bottoms. He leaned his arms on my thighs, and then extended a hand to my hip.

"Well," he said, running his finger along the edge of my bikini bottom, starting at my hip and slowly moving toward my pussy, "you can see the seam is expertly crafted."

His touch was electric and my hips involuntarily rose as his finger traced my most intimate area.

I moved his thumb to my clit. "Tell me how this fabric feels."

Mac massaged my clit through the bikini bottoms. "Well, the fabric is synthetic, which means that..."

"Oh!" I moaned. "Just taste it already."

Mac's tongue explored my pussy through the bikini bottom and teased the bare skin around it while his nose pressed into me.

Mac slipped his tongue under the fabric. While his hot lips on my pussy were a delightful shock, I suddenly realized (again, I guess) what we were doing.

"We can't, Mac," I said, moving his face away from me.

I went to bed and furiously fingered myself.

Mac and I didn't talk about those nights, but we did continue to flirt.

We got home on Thursday afternoon and I didn't see Mac for a week or so after that.

I did, however, get a surprise visit from my boyfriend.

I was coming home from spending Saturday afternoon at the pool with some girlfriends, and found my boyfriend sitting at the kitchen table. Matt took the weekend away to see me.

Like I said, I was coming home from the pool, wearing my new bikini with a short red tennis skirt and a white button-down on top. The shirt was unbuttoned to my navel and tucked in to show off my bikini top.

Matt whistled at me.

"Matt!" I called, and took his hand, dragging him to my bedroom.

I didn't let him talk, just pushed him down onto my bed, where he laid on his back while I straddled him. I undid his jeans while rubbing his hardening cock.

"I'm so glad to see you," I mumbled into his mouth.

"I've been needing this," I whispered as I pulled off his pants and boxers and stood to move them to the floor.

Still standing, I reached under my skirt and pulled down my bikini bottom.

This, I thought, is how I should have done this for Mac. But Matt, my Matt, was here and his cock was rock hard and staring at me the way a particularly nice cock does.

My pussy had been wet and ready to be fucked for days. I resumed my position straddling Matt and slowly lowered my pussy to his cock.

I ran my slit along the length of his cock, getting him wet with my juices. I slid my pussy along his cock until the tip was at my entrance. And then I shifted my hips to let him in.

"Oh God, Mac," I said involuntarily and froze, willing Matt not to notice what I'd called him.

He kept thrusting. And I kept screaming Mac's name.

We didn't last much longer as a couple, but I sure did have a good time fucking him that weekend.

As soon as Matt left town, I was busy busy busy with the new store opening. Mac, the team, and I got the whole thing put together in time for our opening, which was lively.

Mac and I, as the ones in charge, took turns supervising different parts of the store on opening day. We'd had to make regular schedules that meant our time in the store didn't overlap too much - one of us needed to be there at all times, at least to start, so we couldn't be there together much.

But opening day, we were both there. He started watching supervising the back of the store and the changing rooms, while I started at the cashiers and keeping an eye of the front of the store. Then we'd swap every couple of hours.

While I was in the back, watching the changing rooms and the lingerie and underwear displays, three young women came in, giggling with each other. Now, I'm not a lesbian or anything, but I can recognize a sexy woman when I see one. And these were sexy women. Not in a Playboy-centerfold way, but in a normal sexy way.

Anyway, the three of them were holding up shirts and skirts and bras and panties and thongs and bodysuits to themselves, choosing a couple each to try on. And I found myself getting a little excited. These sexy women were going to strip in my store, separated from the 19-year-old boy we'd had staff the changing rooms that day by only a curtain.

The young women brought their selections to the changing rooms and Jimmy - the 19-year-old at the desk - counted the items and handed them the customary plastic discs and showed them to changing rooms.

Then Jimmy watched them go into the stalls. And kept watching. I was rooting for him to catch a peek, honestly. And maybe I wanted a peek myself.

The women didn't offer a peek.

Instead, they all three came out of their stalls in the lingerie they'd tried on and showed it off to each other.

The first was wearing a lace bra-and-panty set. As she modeled it for her friends, she spun around and tugged at the elastic to demonstrate the fit. Jimmy couldn't keep his eyes off of her, and neither could I. I imagined myself in her shoes. She must know that she's got the eye of every man nearby. I was getting a thrill of imagining doing what she was. Feeling myself barely clothed for a store full of strangers.

And then she pushed her breasts together, showing her cleavage to her friends and also to Jimmy and to me. Jimmy's mouth hung open.

The other two women were wearing bodysuits - what we used to call leotards. As they modeled for each other, I left the show to relieve Mac. I knew he'd want to see whatever they tried on next.

"Mac," I said, finding him at his station watching the cashiers and the front of the store.

"Yes, Em?"

"You should go watch the back of the store."

"Why's that?"

I stood closer to him to whisper what I'd seen in his ear, and he hurried away with a quick thanks.

The rest of the afternoon sped by and before I knew it, Mac and I were alone in the store doing the last of the tidying and locking up.

"You missed a great show," Mac said as we folded panties.

"I saw a pretty good show."

"It got better," he insisted. "I got there as the girls came out of their changing stalls - I guess for round two of trying on outfits."

"What were they wearing?"

"Two of them were in the usual outfits we see in here - jean shorts and a black bra under a thin, white, see-through shirt. But the other one was in jean shorts over a backless bodysuit that showed off a lot of sideboob and cleavage. It was sexy as hell - like she was just innocently wearing her outfit and it just happened to show off her breasts and bare back."

"Was that it? That got you all excited?"

"Well, yeah," Mac answered, "that did get me all excited, but it got better. They came out again. Two in like graphic tees or something, but the third - the same one - in white panties and -" Mac went to a display of lace shirts - "this shirt."

He held up a black lace shirt that was basically entirely see-through and handed it to me.

"And her friends shrieked. 'I can see your nipple!' one of them said loudly. And she just stood there. And then pinched her nipples through the shirt."

"Did you get a good look?"

"I was too far away to see her tits, but it was so hot knowing that she was exposing herself to the store. Who knew that people wore this stuff? I guess that's why we sell it!"

I smiled, still holding the shirt up to myself. Did I dare wear something like this? Thinking about being that woman showing off to Jimmy, to Mac, and to me was getting me turned on.

Mac was still talking.

"What?" I asked.

"I asked if you wanted to try on that shirt."

I swatted Mac playfully. He probably knew how much I wanted to try that shirt on for him. And part of me really wanted to.

"You wish," I answered.

Mac grumped about it for a second and then kept telling me about what he'd seen.

After the three young women left, apparently there had been another exciting adventure in the changing rooms.

"So this woman comes in - maybe a college senior - with two young men who must be freshmen or sophomores. And they're clearly in love and she loves how much they adore her. She's got a couple of things to try on.

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