Ten minutes until closing and I'm still tied for first place in this month's competition. After the holiday rush, sales had slacked off quite a bit, but that was to be expected. The goals had been set by the district office and there was little hope that any one of us would be able to live up to their unreal expectations, but that didn't mean we couldn't give it our best effort. Even in slow economic times, a store manager with talent and ingenuity could make a healthy commission if she knew how to take care of her customers. Plus a healthy dose of competition was always an added incentive, and this month was no exception.
I loved the retail business. Every day posed a different challenge with each customer a potential sales gain and another award for my office when the month's totals were posted. And sometimes there were perks not outlined in the manager trainee manuals that made the job much more interesting, especially when some of the managers decided to invent our own incentive contest.
I'm a very competitive person and for a woman in the predominately male electronics industry, it was an edge which commanded respect and admiration and one which I used to my advantage at every opportunity. But after months of beating the sales figures of all the male store managers in my district, I was becoming bored. I needed a new challenge, but one in which only the seven other female managers in the tri-state region would be able to participate. If anyone discovered what we were doing, would most certainly get us all fired, but that only intensified the competition.
We formed the "GREAT EIGHT" as we called ourselves, at the Regional Pre-Holiday party in November and from the start it had been a fierce competition. Of course I had won the first month's round. It was, after all the busiest selling season of the year. But once the rush was over, the mall traffic and the opportunities we had all enjoyed had dropped considerably.
Early in January there were many returns from holiday customers, so the numbers had added up quickly. Joan in store 3509 had three successful turnovers in one week, and I'd barely caught up to her when Sarah faxed in her numbers a few days later. With a little extra effort, I'd managed to match her numbers, then added two additional closings which I thought would put me in the lead. Until I received the fax this morning and read that Donna, in 3317, had an exceptional week and had even the score.
Being tied for first was not nearly as satisfying as winning, but unless a miracle happened in the next ten minutes, there wouldn't be any way I could win this month's contest. I was resolved to the fact I would have to share the top prize and simply try harder in February.
I began to close the front door when my golden opportunity rushed into the store.
"I'm sorry." He panted, out of breath. "I know it's almost time to close, but I bought these wireless antennas last month and you said if they didn't work, I could return them."
Normally I would have told the customer to come back the next day, especially for a refund, but this was not a normal situation. I smiled my most innocent "corporate" grin and locked the door behind him.
"Of course. This won't take long." So he thinks!
I tried not to let him see the excitement on my face as I followed him toward the register. This was better than I hoped. I remembered him when made his purchase over a month ago. The one time when a customer asked if he could return merchandise that I hoped he would. He wore a dark blue cap and with the logo of a television network stitched onto the rim. His light brown hair just barely visible underneath. His soft, brown eyes had made it difficult for me to answer his many technical questions, but I somehow managed to keep it strictly business.
His name was Marc, with a "c" not a "k" and he had paid with a credit card, so I didn't have any record of his address, which would have been against the rules of the contest had I tried to contact him. But here he was, my last chance, and I was not about to let it, or him, slip out the door.
I began my well rehearsed speech about the quality of our products. our return policy and asked him for his receipt. He took the crumpled piece of paper from his wallet and handed it to me, but when I reached for it, I lightly brushed his hand, letting my fingers glide slowly over his wrist.
"You do know." I lowered my voice to a seductive whisper. "Our company prides itself in complete customer satisfaction."
My eyes beamed into his, trapping him like a defenseless deer. When he didn't make a move to pull his hand away, I knew I had him.
"I'm sure we can exchange this for a new one, but they're in the back storeroom and we're not allowed to leave the sales floor unattended, for security reasons you understand."
"I....I could come back tomorrow." His voice was heavy with expectation. I didn't disappoint him.
"That won't be necessary. I've locked the front door so no one else can come into the store. If I don't leave you here alone, I won't be violating our company policy and you can also let me know exactly what you want."
I was hoping he'd do just that.
Trying to ignore the tremors of anticipation, I began walking towards the rear of the store and opened my office door.
"You can come this way." I said, hoping he'd caught the true meaning of that sentence. When I felt the heat of his body near my back, I knew he had.
Marc entered my office, his eyes quickly glancing from one shelf to the other in pretense of selecting a replacement item.
"I think you'll like this."
I began climbing the ladder, parting my legs just a bit more than necessary to reach the next rung. The heat from his gaze sent a sudden wave of heat through me. I pretended to miss the next step and in a flash I was right where I planned to be: in Marc's strong, muscular arms. My only problem now was moving us to a more comfortable position, one that was near my desk within finger reach of the tiny red button hidden under the top drawer.
"Thank you." I purred, my arms gently caressing the back of his neck. "I think I hurt my ankle, can you carry me to the chair?"
Marc's breathing was quickening and tiny beads of sweat began to form on his brow. This was the part I always enjoyed, when my target was primed and ready for the final move which would put me ahead of Donna and everyone else in the District.
As he turned towards the desk, I began tracing small circles on his neck with my tongue. Marc was startled and almost dropped me.
"You can put me down, now." I giggled wickedly and slipped from his embrace. Placing one hand on the back of his head, I pulled him towards me. Behind my back and out of his sight, my other hand hit the red button.
There was no longer any doubt as to my intentions. My mouth parted his soft, hungry lips. My tongue whispered a silent invitation he was more than eager to accept. I tore open his shirt and teased his tiny nipples with the tips of my thumbs and a soft moan escaped from his throat. Marc returned the gesture and in seconds the official company polo shirt was tossed into the red sale merchandise circle on the floor, followed by my non official company bra and panties.
I unhooked Marc's belt and removed his pants and briefs in one movement. I wrapped my legs around his waist, drawing his large (thank you, God!) hard cock deep inside my now soaking pussy. Fortunately, I remembered to put the ink blotter on the desk earlier just in case I needed it for the very reason I was using it now.
Glancing at the shelf just above Marc's right shoulder, I repositioned our bodies slightly to the left. I knew there were only a few minutes until the contest time expired and I desperately needed Marc to expire first. Grabbing hold of his ass, I thrust my hips against his, forcing him to move with the hard and fast tempo of my own pleasure creating the results I had intended. For the both of us.
"Any other questions?" My eyes sparkled straight into his.
"No, none at all!. You certainly take your slogan seriously, don't you?"
His warm smile was all I needed for final shot. Marc was kind enough to hand me my clothes and as I put on my shirt, I turned my back to him and turned off the switch.
Marc picked up his merchandise and I led him to the front of the store. Unlocking the door, I gave him a quick good-bye kiss, locked the door behind him and hurried into my office where I immediately picked up the phone.
"Better luck next month, Donna! "I gloated to my co-worker. "I'll send you a postcard from Las Vegas."
I switched on the computer modem and sent all the women managers of our network the transmission. As I watched the replay of my winning conquest, there was only one thought running through my mind: I couldn't wait for next month's contest to begin.