tagLesbian SexNilofar Pt. 01

Nilofar Pt. 01

byDeceptivedomain©

Welcome, dear readers, firstly I want to apologize to all my followers for the long delay in between my first story and the present one.

Anyways, this is the first part of 'NILOFAR', another long lesbian romance and I hope you find it interesting enough to read till the end.

Thanks, as always, to 'Old naked dad' for his skillful (and phenomenally speedy!) editing.

As always I enjoy reading the feedback and I'm always open to constructive criticism. So leave the comments and drop me a message if you want.

*****

CHAPTER 1

ANOTHER DAY AT WORK

It's one of the brighter afternoons of early January and I'm on my way back to my respective counter, after having my lunch at the cheap fast food center nearby, when I hear my Manager calling me.

"Jess, would you come over here, for a minute, please?"

I immediately look at my watch, to see if I'm late returning from my break, before walking towards the storage room, nearby. Since I've been working here for more than three years, I know Mike, the middle-aged Manager, isn't a person to be afraid of. In fact, he's quite friendly, humble and caring towards his employees, but right now, he looks angry for some reason.

"Hey, Mike! What can I do for you?"

He doesn't speak a word, only turns his head to the left and following his gaze, I see a teenage girl sitting on the bench by the storage room and everything becomes crystal clear to me.

Shoplifting isn't new. During my years of work, I have come across several incidents of shoplifting or, should I say, failed attempts of shoplifting. I wonder from where they finds such courage to try to steal something, knowing the shop is under the surveillance of CC (closed circuit) cameras.

Every technology has its limitations though, so it's not possible to cover every single inch of the shop. Some of the shoplifters get away with stealing, but there's always a threat of getting caught red-handed and there's strict rules against shoplifting, which includes fines as well as imprisonment.

"She has a few costly cosmetics on her and Jason, from the housing department, has already confirmed she's been to the shop, more than a couple of times, within the last few weeks. Make sure she pays for those items, or we'll have to call the Police," he says.

I know we can call the Police on every shoplifter, if we want to, but Mike isn't that kind of person. In fact, he's a little soft hearted for his position as Manager. He lets the accused go if they pay for the stolen items. Sometimes, they don't have sufficient cash so in those cases, and if the products can be resold, he lets them get away with only warnings, after the product is returned.

There are, also, some rare cases where the accused doesn't have sufficient money and the product cannot be resold. In situations like those, we make them sign a warning form and take photographs, threatening to hand them over to the Police and, if they plead enough, we generally let them go, telling them their details will be sent to all of the stores belonging to this chain as well as to the Police and, if they're found guilty, again, they will go directly to jail.

The forms and photographs go nowhere beyond the next day's trash bags, but it works. At least, we hope it does. So, when he mentions the Police, it takes me by surprise, but as the Manager, he's the one who must answer for every single product stolen and, I guess, this girl stealing, continuously, has pulled the trigger.

Nodding my acceptance, I turn and sigh in frustration, knowing it's now my responsibility to search this girl, find the stolen product and pressure her into paying for it. The only thing I can hope for is this girl has sufficient money in her purse because, though I know she's a thief and what she has done is a crime, I don't want to be the one to send her to jail.

"Follow me," I say.

I keep my head straight, without bothering to look at the girl, as she gets up and follows me inside of the small (what we call) storage room, but is practically empty. Once inside, I lock the door before turning towards the girl and the first thing that strikes me is her naval piercing. I know it's something very common, nowadays, as piercing and tattoos have become one of the trends among the teenagers, but for some reason, I always find it fascinating...especially on girls.

I've had thoughts about getting one myself, but chickened out every time, thinking about the pain it causes afterwards. The simple, stainless steel Barbell she's wearing at the tip of her naval is certainly not one of the most extravagant I've seen, but she has the figure to go with it. Her abs and stomach are toned to perfection and her low-waist jeans and crop top leave her midriff exposed only enough to show it off. Certainly, good enough to hold my gaze long enough to make her speak first.

"You can touch it if you like! It's not one of the fake ones and definitely, not stolen from your shop!"

Her sudden speaking nearly makes me jump out of my skin and I blush, embarrassed for my behavior as I know the piercing is real and I shouldn't have gawked at it. Now, I need to apologize for my behavior.

"I'm..." I start, but as soon as I look up to the owner of the voice, my words die.

I didn't have a proper look at her, previously, as I was too busy listening to Mike and trying to process the situation. Added to the fact she was sitting on the bench also failed me from realizing she's so tall. She towers over me, by almost a foot and half in her hunter boots, as I stand an inch short to five feet in the flats we're required to wear during our shift.

She's lean. Her hair is black and she has it pulled back into a ponytail. Her Zed black eyes are looking down at me, as if piercing my body to look into my soul. Not the cutest face I've ever seen, but definitely striking, in her own rugged way.

"You were saying?" she says, smiling.

I can't look away. My face is heating and I'm also sure my chest will soon be red, too, but I continue ogling her.

"If you keep staring at me like this, you'll never get your job done," she says, with her smile turning into an evil grin, confirming she's enjoying the situation very much.

'What the hell is wrong with me? She's the one accused of stealing and I'm supposed to be in control here. I need to do something or, at least, say something to change the situation,' I think to myself.

"Are you going to help or do you want me to do it?" I, finally, ask and see her smile widening.

'Fuck! What am I saying, now?' Don't get me wrong, I'm simply referring to the searching I'm supposed to do, but my words didn't come out as professional as I'd wanted them to. I should've been more careful before speaking. To my relief, she doesn't tease back.

After pulling her top up, she shoves her hand inside one cup of her bra and takes out two products before handing them to me. It happens so fast, I don't have enough time to reciprocate and I see more than I should have...a light pink nipple! I stand here, dumbfounded, not sure what to do, or say, and she speaks, again, almost waking me up from my dreamy state.

"You can search me throughout, but that is all I had on me."

"I don't think that'll be necessary. I believe you." I manage to reply somehow in between fumbling with the products in my hand. I'm finding it hard to concentrate on my job, as my mind is still occupied by the quick view of her near naked boobs.

"It's not a good idea to believe a thief. Are you sure you don't want to strip-search me?" she whispers into my ear.

I gasp audibly, at the idea of stripping her before looking up and finding her eyes glinting with humor, as if she's trying her best not to laugh at my expense. I'm not sure, when she closed the distance between us but, now she's almost leaning over me with her boobs only inches away from my face and I jump back to the farthest corner, breathing heavily. I'm feeling like a prey getting chased by a predator and the room is too small for me survive for long.

"I'll be coming back after confirming the price and let you know how much you owe us," I say, somehow, before turning on my heals to leave the room.

It's true, the packages are torn, but after working on the cash for years, I can tell exactly how much the mascara and eye shadow will cost her without even checking. I'm actually desperate to leave the room, hoping it may help me calm down and this is the best excuse I can think of at this very moment.

I'm almost out of the door when I feel her strong hand gripping my wrist and stopping me dead in my tracks. I close my eyes, knowing she's not going to let me escape so easily. My heart is now beating faster and I'm sweating, though the air conditioning is set to the chilliest. It's true that I find her attractive. No one has attracted me in such a way, for long, and she's coming onto me, hard. I start panicking. I don't know what her intentions are and I'm not sure about holding myself back if she really tries something. This is my workplace and the last thing I want is to have sex in the storage room and get myself terminated, if caught red-handed.

"Don't bother, I have no money to pay for them." She says before releasing my hand.

I sigh. Turning back, I see her stepping away from me and now I'm feeling relieved that she's not trying anything else, but that is also the last thing I want to hear.

"You can call your family," I say, trying to help her by providing options.

"I don't have one. I was abandoned and found in a park one morning. They guess my mother might be one of the girls working in the red light area, nearby. I must have a father, but I'm not sure if my mother can actually tell who he is." She replies calmly leaning onto side wall.

I'm not sure how someone can admit something so personal, so casually but, I don't have much time to wonder anyway.

"You can call a friend or someone who can help."

"I don't think you understand. I'm from the hive. There's no one to care for me. So, rather than wasting your precious time trying to help me, you should let your Manager know about the situation and let him decide whatever he feels is right."

"Are you not afraid of going to jail?"

I couldn't help it, the question popped out of my mouth almost immediately. I know what the Manager will say about the situation and, for the first time, I see her hesitating for a moment before replying.

"I'd be lying to you, and myself, if I said I'm not afraid of going to jail, but, when I chose this path, I knew I'd wind up in jail, someday. But it was my decision, no one has forced me into this and now, when I'm caught, I have to accept the consequences."

"If you know it's a crime and you're afraid of going to jail, why don't you quit stealing?"

I have a very bad habit of not being able to stop babbling after finding something interesting.

"You still don't understand! I'm from the hive and, to me, stealing is better than selling drugs or prostituting myself!"

'Thank god! At least, she's not a prostitute,' is the first thing to come to my mind before I start thinking 'why do I fucking care what she is?'

That doesn't solve the issue though and I'm certainly running out of options. I pull out one of the forms, from the corner shelf, and start searching for a pen that actually works. I decide I'll give it a final try and speak to Mike, hoping he may change his mind and completing the form will be all that's necessary.

"May I have your full name, please?"

I immediately bite my tongue after seeing the expression on her face change drastically. For the first time since meeting her, she looks vulnerable and I start cursing myself for being such an ass. After learning about her past, I should've stuck to asking for only her first name instead of reading what was written on the form.

"I don't have a full name. My first name is Nilofar but my friends call me Nil."

I can see her lips still moving so she must be saying something but I can hardly hear whatever she's saying and does it really matter, now?

"Wait here until I come back!"

This time, she doesn't try to stop me. Walking directly to my locker, I take two twenty-dollar bills out of my wallet, go back to the storage room and shove the money into the pocket of her jeans.

"Now, go to the counter and pay for the products. I'll talk to Mike and hope he'll let you get away with only a warning, this time."

"I can't take your money! This isn't right!" she protests, but weakly. The confidence she had in her voice, earlier, is missing now, and I'm quick to pounce on it.

"When did you become so concerned about right and wrong? This is my place to decide what's right so get your ass over to the counter and pay for these and I'll meet you outside after reporting to the Manager!" I snap back, my voice rising with my anger.

I need her to listen to me, help me help her. To my surprise she doesn't protest but, only nods her acceptance before I make my way out and start towards Mike's office.

I find him sitting on his chair and looking at his desktop with rapt attention. He's so drawn into whatever he's doing on it that he doesn't even look up, making me wonder if he's actually heard me coming in.

"Mike?" I say, clearing my throat and trying to get his attention.

He looks up with a sheepish smile on his face, looking like a kid who's been caught, by his mother, with his hand inside of the cookie jar. I wonder, again, what he might be looking at. Something illegal! Porn maybe! That's strictly prohibited to watch at our workstations.

I find it hard to believe Mike, who's been afraid of his wife, like a ghost, could do something like that though. I've heard about mid-life crisis, but I don't have time to keep wondering or investigate further...I must proceed with my job at hand.

"She's willing to pay for the mascara and the eye shadow I found on her," I say, checking his expression and he nods, indicating me to continue.

"Can we let her go with only a warning as she's paying for the products, now?" I ask, hoping he'll reconsider his decision and let Nil get away cheaply after the payment has been done.

"Have you warned her about further instances?" he asks, leaning back onto his chair and now it's my turn to nod back.

"Fine by me, then," he says, smiling and I smile back before returning to my counter.

As I leave Mike's office, I see Nil collecting the change, along with the small packet, before leaving the shop. Knowing she'll be waiting for me outside, I walk to my counter rather than follow her.

Today is nothing exceptional other than a slow weekly afternoon with no pressure at work. Only a few window-shoppers roaming, lazily, through the shop looking for some best deals. I'm dying inside as I wait for my next break so I can meet Nil outside, but decide to wait for a while only to prevent others from suspecting anything. What I did isn't the most ethical, according to company policy, and I might get penalized for this if it escalates.

Checking my watch every five seconds, I continue waiting for five, long minutes before closing my counter for a short break, again, and almost run to meet her outside. As I step out, I see her standing beside the baggage section, holding the small packet in her hand. She smiles as soon as she notices me coming out and I can't help but smile back.

"Hi," I say, walking up to her, not sure why I asked her to wait, nor what I'm going to say next.

"Thanks," she says, smiling while she gives the packet, along with the spare money, to me.

Taking the change, I shove it into my pocket before offering the small bag back to her.

"Actually, this is for you," I say, trying to make it clear I didn't ask her to wait because I wanted the products for myself.

"I don't want this! I'm a thief but not a beggar!" she hisses, stepping back, shaking her head and denying to accept it as a gift.

I completely lose it!

"So, you'd prefer to visit another shop, try to steal the same things, again, and maybe end up in jail? I don't know how that can be more honorable than accepting this, as a gift, from me! Maybe I shouldn't have offered you this! I don't think of you as a thief or a beggar, but you'll never understand that! If you have such a big ego, why don't you try to find a respectable job so you don't have to beg or steal from anyone?" I snap back and throw the packet towards the trash in disgust.

I don't even wait for her answer ,but instead, turn around and storm into the shop.

NILOFAR

I'm standing here, rooted to the ground, listening and then watching the blonde until she storms into the shop and then my tears come. Not because I'm hurt or insulted, but touched. During my life, I've often been in situations like this with people shouting at me because they expected something from me, which I was unable to provide.

I know the blonde acted rude, but there's no denying what she said is completely true. I wouldn't have believed the little blonde, who acted so naïve and shy while I mercilessly flirted with her, could actually blast like a stick of pocket-sized dynamite, but it's my own error in judgment.

After whatever the blonde did to keep me away from jail, I shouldn't have thought she'd offer the products to me because I'm poor and needy. Now, I curse myself for rejecting the gift, for saying those filthy words and breaking her heart. I'm not sure what she tried to mean and what I'll never understand, but she's absolutely gorgeous, has a job, must be well educated and might have her own place to live. There's no way a girl, like her, can fancy me. Maybe she was trying to be friendly, but, I pissed her away and I'm not sure she'd like to see me, again.

Bending down, I pick up the bag, before placing it close to my heart. This can't be the end, I need to find a way to see her, again, because the moment she shoved the money into my pocket, she took my heart in return.

CHARTER 2

JESS

Entering the shop, I walk directly to my counter, rather than going to the locker to leave my change. It's against the rules to work with money in my pocket and I might get penalized, if caught, but I don't fucking care! I'm raging with anger and not sure if I'm particularly angry at her, for being such a bitch, or at myself, for finding her attractive. I shouldn't have offered her the gift.

"Good job, Jess! Those products were costly," Mike says as he walks up to my counter.

'Yes, I know because there's two fewer twenty dollar bills in my wallet, now.' I wish I could say that loud but only smile back at him.

"That'll keep her away for a while, I guess" he says.

All of a sudden, it hit me. She isn't coming back! Yes, he's right. After getting caught, and warned, she'd have to be absolutely crazy to attempt to steal, again, and that means I may not see her, again...ever! I start cursing Mark under my breath for choosing me for the dreadful job.

With time, my anger begins to fade and I start to feel more and more sorry for being so rude to that girl. I know the way she rejected the gift really pissed me off, but now, looking at it from her perspective, it doesn't seem too unusual to deny such costly makeup from someone she barely knows.

Though she's a thief, she didn't run away with the change and the products, but stayed to return them to me and I snapped at her in return. what was I expecting? For her to listen to whatever I say or do whatever I told? Why can't I accept the simple rejection from her? Because I'm attracted to her or is it her name?

Fuck, I wish I knew! I can't find an answer, satisfactory enough, so it makes me pissed at everyone and everything around me.

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byDeceptivedomain© 8 comments/ 14206 views/ 68 favorites

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