My Side Slut, April Pt. 01

I have to admit that as soon as I saw her I remembered my fantasy of the night before and began to harden in my jeans. I shook my head and pushed those thoughts away.

Be good, I told myself. Behave.

I was beside her then and reached out and lightly tapped her shoulder. She was engrossed in her phone and I guess she had not noticed me at all. She jumped at my touch, spinning towards me. This made her big tits bounce beneath her sweater and I realized that she probably wasn't wearing a bra, judging by the way they swung under the knit material.

"Oh," she exclaimed. "I'm sorry, Mr. Hawthorn! I didn't see you! I should have been paying attention."

"It's ok," I said. "My bad. You ready to learn how to open the store?"

"Am I ever," she said and then pressed herself against me, before I could react, wrapping her arms around me and hugging me.

My eyes widened and I quickly backed away from her as my cock hardened even more. It was not a tent in my pants yet, but as I glanced down there was definitely a bit of a bulge.

"Oh," I said, at a loss for words. "Good morning?"

"I'm sorry she said," stepping back and looking up at me with a worried look on her face. "I thought you said you liked hugs?"

She looked so worried that I felt bad for jumping away. She was probably worried about her job, I thought.

"It's ok," I said. "I was just surprised. When you meet the other guys who work here you will see why I don't get a lot of hugs from my employees."

"Ok," she said smiling again. "I did warn you. I'm a hugger."

She stepped against me again, hugging me. I was able to angle my hips away from her to hide my slight arousal which only got worse with this hug. Her body against my thin tee shirt made it clear that she definitely was not wearing a bra.

She broke the hug after a brief moment and smiled up at me again, showing off her dimples.

"I'm just so happy to have this job, Mr. Hawthorn."

We went in and I started to show her how to open.

It was not a difficult job at my store. She had to open a register, count the safe and, most importantly, make coffee. It was difficult for me, however. Difficult to keep my eyes off of her.

When we went to count the safe she squatted down to look into the low safe and I was standing behind her. As she bent her knees, I watched as her skirt was pulled upwards. It was so short that within a second I could see the lower globes of her round ass. I expected to see her panties then but none came to view. My eyes widened and I couldn't stop staring. Was she not wearing underwear, I wondered to myself.

She grunted and then went down on her hands and knees as she reached into the back of the safe to dig out the tray of coin at the back. That position gave me a clear view of her entire ass, wiggling as he pulled the heavy tray towards her.

Now I could see that she actually was wearing underwear. Just not very much. I could see the entire crack of her ass, and rising up out of it was a thin blue cord that connected to a triangle of fabric with cords leading off over both hips. Ah, I realized. A g-string. One cheek was a perfect white half moon the other was almost perfect but had a bruise, almost like a bite mark on it. The way she moved I could see the blue material hugging her pussy and could clearly make out the way that it pulled against her puffy lips.

I was breathing very shallowly, trying not to bring attention to myself and my enjoyment of this show. My cock was hard and straining against my jeans and with her back to me I gave myself a little squeeze.

Finally she retrieved what she was looking for and sat back on her legs, still kneeling on the floor. She leaned forward and began counting the bills and rolls of coins.

"Can you come here and make sure I'm doing this right," she said, glancing over her shoulder. If she saw the bulge in my pants she made no indication of it and so i, once she looked away, rearranged myself as best I could and stepped forward to see what her hands were doing.

That was a mistake. Leaning forward, her sweater fell away from her chest and, looking down I could see straight down her top.

I had been correct earlier. There was definitely no bra. Her full tits were expanses of milky, almost translucent skin. At the tips I could see her nipples, bright rosy pink nubs with a lighter pink areola around them. At that point I couldn't care less about how she was counting my money. I was only watching her tits jiggle with her movements.

"Is that good?" She asked.

"So good," I said quietly, then shook my head and glanced at her face which was looking up at me. "I mean, what?"

"How I counted," she said. "Did I do a good job, Mr. Hawthorn?"

I couldn't be sure but I felt like she glanced at my bulge and then back up at me, face unreadable.

I coughed, embarrassed that I may have been caught being a gross old pervert.

"Oh, yeah. Perfect," I said. "Let's go have a coffee."

We sat behind the counter and chatted idly about nothing that I remembered after the conversation was done. I was far too distracted by watching her breasts swing under the sweater, by the smooth skin of her thighs.

We drank coffee and when the odd customer came in April would jump up and go help them. She really was good at selling. Not one person who came in left without buying anything.

Now you might suspect that she was flirting her way into her sales, and I am sure that her being so attractive helped. Watching her work, however, I realized that her naturally cheerful manner and charm was doing the real heavy lifting. The view of her body was just the icing on the cake for her male customers.

If I could only stop being such a creep, hiring her was going to be a great decision.

"Great job," I said after another customer left with more records in his bag than he had planned on buying and left the store.

"Oh thanks," she said, "I'm having fun." She paused and looked down, almost shyly. She was gripping the hem of her skirt in her hand. "Can I ask you a question, Mr. Hawthorn?"

"Oh sure," I said. "And you can call me Jake. You don't need to call me Mr. Hawthorn."

"Oh," she said, "it's ok. I prefer Mr. Hawthorn." She looked up at me with a slightly worried expression.

"Is what I'm wearing ok?"

I blinked. Surprised by the question.

"Oh, yeah," I said. "It's fine."

"Ok," she said. "It's just that...well you've been looking at my...clothes a lot and I don't want to be wearing the wrong thing and you don't tell me to spare my feelings."

"Oh," I said mortified. I had not been, it turned out, been descrite in my checking her out. "I'm so sorry, that's my bad...I'll..."

"Oh! It's ok," she said, interrupting me. "I don't mind you looking. In fact...I like it when you look at me, Mr. Hawthorn. It's just that...you told me to wear what I'm comfortable in. This is comfortable for me."

She leaned towards me and her sweater fell forward. I tried not to look, I really did, but I could see the top of her cleavage. She placed her hand on my thigh, just above my knee. My leg jerked, surprised, but she moved her hand with it.

"Is it ok if I'm comfortable?" She asked looking into my eyes. Her fingers were making small circles on the inside of my thigh just above my knee. "You want me to be comfortable?"

I swallowed and gritted my teeth trying to will my cock to stop hardening right that moment. My will was not winning that battle and I knew a lump was forming in my lap.

"Sure..." I said, my voice quiet. "Yeah I want you to be comfortable."

Had her hand moved higher up or was that just my imagination, I wondered.

"Good," she said. "Some people might say that I'm dressing slutty. Do you think I look slutty?"

I coughed. I was very aware of her hand on my thigh. My vision focused on April's face and it was like the rest of the room faded away. There was no shop piled with albums and cds. There was no city outside of the door. There was just me and her.

"Um...no," I stammered. "It..it's fine. You look fine...good. I mean..."

"Oh," she said, raising her eyebrow. "I don't look slutty? I thought I looked a bit slutty. I mean, I don't know if you noticed, Mr. Hawthorn, but..." She raised the hand she didn't have on my thigh to her chest, gripping one of her breasts from below and raising it. My eyes were locked on it. The nipple, I could tell by the way the material tented, was hard. "I'm not wearing a bra."

I swallowed past a lump in my throat.

"I...noticed..." I said and then inwardly cursed myself. This must be a trap. She was making me admit to being a sleaze ball creep. "I mean..."

"It's ok," she said, her voice as quiet as mine. "I don't mind you noticing . I like you noticing. I like dressing like a slut sometimes and it's nice to be noticed."

She dropped her breast and it bounced as it fell from her hand.

"So..." she said, and then the bell over the door rang as a customer walked in. She smiled slyly at me, squeezed my leg and said, "We can finish this conversation at another time."

Then she stood and went to greet the customer.

That was around the time that Pete came In for his shift. April greeted him and he came over to talk to me.

"New girl?" He asked in his customary brief way.

"Yeah," I said. "She's...new."

He looked over at her, then back at me and shook his head.

"Ok then."

+++++

I fled the floor then, going back to my office. I had work to do, paperwork to fill out, the website to check. It was not, however, work that made me go back there. I had an aching hard on and had to deal with it.

My office was in a loft area above the warehouse in the back. You do not need a lot of storage space if you are a record shop. You have some back stock but most of your product is on the floor. So it was pretty secluded and quiet most of the time.

I climbed the wooden steps to my office and closed the door after me when I got in there. I went behind my desk and opened my laptop. I did not turn it on though, because all I wanted to do, all I needed to do, was jerk off.

I reached under the large, old style steel desk and unzipped my pants taking out my swollen member and closed my eyes, remembering the view down April's sweater. The way her tit had looked when she lifted in in her hand. I began to stroke myself, knowing that I would finish quickly and then my mind would clear a bit and I could have a conversation with April. Tell her that while I am not a prude I was a bit uncomfortable with the conversation we were having and I would prefer to be a bit more professional. In the meantime, I just needed to cum.

My eyes were closed and I was so lost in my fantasy that I didn't hear the footsteps on the stairs. The sound of the door opening. I did not register my visitor until she spoke.

"Um, Mr. Hawthorn?," April's voice cut through my fantasy of her. I was just on the verge of cumming so when I heard I clamped my hand on my cock, stopping myself just shy of release.

My eyes flew open and I saw her in my doorway, her chest flushed red. I shoved my belly against my desk edge hiding my exposed cock in the space for my legs. I was never more happy that the front of the desk went almost down to the floor than I was at that moment. I didn't dare release my cock or I knew I would blow my load instantly.

"Um, April," I said, panicked. "It's...not a great time...very busy..."

"Oh," she said and began to walk towards the desk. "I'm sorry."

No, I screamed at her in my mind. Turn around!!

She reached my desk and placed her hands on the surface, palms down. She leaned forward.

"That's too bad. It must be hard...all that work," she said leaning even more forward. I could look down the open collar of her sweater now and I couldn't make my eyes raise any higher. "Do you want some help with...your work?"

"No..." I said, voice strained. Beads of sweat were forming on my brow. "I'm fine. I'll manage."

She began to rock back and forth on her hands, making her tits sway in her top.

"Ok, Mr. Hawthorn," she said, her voice with a slight edge of husk. "I'm done now and I just wanted to thank you again for the job. I had a great first day. I can't wait until we close together tomorrow night."

I couldn't help it. With her tits on display, her looking at me with those burning green eyes, I began to move my hand, trying to stroke myself without obviously moving my arm.

"Ok," I said, mesmerized by her breasts. Her nipples were clearly hard, pressing against the knit as she moved them. "See you tomorrow."

"Anything you need before I go?" she asked again. "I'm here for you for...anything."

"I'm...im fine..." I said.

Then she spun, making her skirt swirl as she did so, raising up so that I could see the bare cheeks of her ass.

That was enough. I grunted, then tried to cover the noise with a cough, as I came under the desk, spraying the underside with a heavy load of spunk.

"Ok, see you tomorrow then," she said and glanced over at my red, sweaty face as she left. "Thanks for everything, Mr. Hawthorn."

Then she closed the door behind her. I groaned as I frantically beat my spurting cock, finishing with the image of her ass in my mind as she did so.

+++++

That night I got drunk. I like a drink most evenings but I rarely got pissed drunk anymore. The hangovers seemed to get worse as I aged and never seemed worth it. That night, however, I was a mess.

I had been so inappropriate that day. Leering at my employee. Having conversations I should not have had. And then, like a teenager, jerking off in my desk and getting caught by her.

It was embarrassing and probably a violation of some kind of ethics law. I knew that it did not matter that she seemed to be leading me on in my actions. I was the 41 year old. I was the boss. I needed to have handled the situation much better.

So I drank and I got angry and I bathed myself in self loathing. I knew I wanted to see her again, to ogle her some more but I knew that I had to control myself.

Eventually I fell asleep on the leather couch and Kendal woke me when she got home around 1 AM.

She was laughing at me. She hadn't seen me like that in a while so she found it very amusing as she put my arm around her shoulder and led me to bed to pass out and sleep it off.

My wife was gone when I woke up but she left me a note.

'If that's what you are getting up to when I work late, should I be worried? Kidding, have fun this week. I'll have more time for us next week hopefully! See you late tonight if you are still up!'

Her kindness and care for me came through the note and it made me feel even worse than my aching head and churning guts. I took two extra strength Advil's, drank two huge glasses of water and got dressed and headed to my local diner.

Waterstreet Diner was a holdover from diners of the past. Greasy but good food. Tepid but bottomless cups of coffee. It was the perfect place to breakfast away a hangover.

As I sat there, eating my bacon, dipping the salty strips in the runny egg yolks, I thought about my problem.

I needed to take control of the situation. I was the boss after all. I would have to have the awkward conversation about her clothes. She could wear what she wanted within reason. I could say that a customer complained. That way it was out of my hands. I would keep my distance and that would be fine.

I could just fire her, I supposed but I wasn't that kind of guy. I was the one in the wrong. All she had done was do a good job and be a bit too friendly.

I glanced at my watch and saw that it was already 12:30 PM. We were open until ten and I knew that April's shift started at 2:30. I figured if I headed in now I could get some work done, have the conversation with her when she arrived and then head out and avoid her until closer to close when I would train her how to do that. Going forward I could avoid her as much as possible.

I paid my bill and left.

+++++

I really did have a lot to do. I had invoices to pay, phone calls to make to track down some rare albums for a regular customer, the next week's schedule to complete with April on it. I was engrossed in the work when I heard a knock on my office door. I called out for whoever it was to enter.

April came in and I blinked. She was dressed way more appropriately today. Her skirt, red this time, was loose but a bit longer than yesterday's. There was less chance of her flashing her ass in this one. Her top was a black zip up hoodie with a yoga clothing emblem on the chest. I didn't think she was wearing a bra but it was zipped up three quarters of the way. Her big chest pressed against the front and I could see a fair bit of cleavage but she seemed to have a white spaghetti strap tank top under it.

It was not an outfit I could really chastise her for wearing.

"I'm here for my shift, Mr. Hawthorn," she said.

"Oh, great," I said. "Take a seat."

She sat opposite me.

"Well," I said, "yesterday was...you were great. Great with the customers. Good on the register. Great."

"I'm glad you think so," she said smiling.

"Yeah," I continued. "It's just..."

"Did I do something wrong?"

"Oh, no," I said quickly. "You were great. It's just...I'm sorry."

She looked puzzled.

"Why are you sorry, Mr. Hawthorn?" she asked.

"I think I was...inappropriate. A bit. And I am sorry if I was."

She looked at me levely.

"Mr. Hawthorn," she said. "I don't think you were inappropriate at all. And if I don't think you were inappropriate... then you weren't inappropriate."

"But..." I started then she interrupted me.

"I'll go get to work now." She stood and began walking away from me, pausing at the doorway and then turning back. "I think you will find it will be tough for you to be...inappropriate with me. In fact pretty much anything that comes to your mind will be...perfectly appropriate."

Then she left me there at a loss for words.

+++++

I stayed in my office for most of the rest of the day. I had work to do but I was pretty much avoiding April. I did not trust myself around her. If she was not going to set or maintain proper boundaries that would be up to me. I figured that would be easier to do if I were not in the same room as her.

I had a camera feed of the floor in my office and I watched her throughout the day. I tried not to be creepy about it. I tried not to focus on her body, the way she moved. I was mostly successful. She was a hard worker at least, I saw. She was helpful and cheerful and my customers were happy.

It was near the end of the day when a young man came in and I glanced at the camera and saw April and him talking. He was standing pretty close to her so I began to watch. It seemed like she knew him.

It was only a short while before they started arguing. She was clearly telling him to leave and he was refusing. That got me moving. It did not matter that I was having a difficult time around her. No one was going to treat an employee of mine like that.

I hurried down the stairs and out onto the floor. The two of them were at the far end of the store near the exit and hadn't noticed me.

"...I told you to go!" April was saying angrily.

"You fucking slut," the man, barely more than a boy, snarled. "You can't break up with me. I can't go without you!"

He grabbed her and spun her away from him, shoving her so that she was bent over one of my record displays.

"Bill!" She shouted. "No!"

"One last fuck," he grunted pulling at his fly. "One for the fuckitng road you whore. You like this remember?"

He had his hand wrapped around her throat and was squeezing as he tried to force her legs apart.

"You fucking love this don't you you fucking slut!"

That was about the time I got to that end of the store. I grabbed the kid by his shoulder and yanked him back. He wasn't expecting it and fell on his ass. His face was twisted in rage.