The 24/7 "Always Open"

The 24/7 "Always Open"

Stephanie discovers love during the graveyard shift

This is my contribution to the On the Job 2021 event, organized by Hey All. I hope you like it.

**

April 18, 2021

Stephanie didn't know why she got the graveyard shift. It had to be because she was new. She would also be, however, a single woman manning the 24/7 convenience store, all alone, and in the middle of night. True, the store had security cameras, a button for an alarm hard wired to the police, and a gun hidden away. The gun was easy and quick for her to get to. She knew how to use a gun, everyone in her family did; her Dad made sure of it. One of her three brothers, Billy Bob, was a crack shot. He had even won some competitions. Stephanie herself, however, hated guns.

Stephanie, or Steph (as she preferred to be called) needed the money, and jobs were scarce in her small Indiana town. Her store was in a tiny cluster of stores at a rural exit of the Interstate, but hers was the only one open after midnight. It was kind of creepy with all the other stores, all three of them, closed, with only a security light or two kept on.

There was traffic, at least. A component of the customer base was a small but not insignificant number of single men, who would rifle through the "men's magazines." The porno magazines were encased in opaque plastic, and placed on the top shelf, but one copy of each brand was always kept available for browsing. It paid off, as they sold more of them that way. The 24/7 was the only place in town, and for miles around, where on could find porno magazines for sale.

Other customers came on their way home from work at the local hospital, picking up a bottle of milk, or some pasta to cook for dinner, or a can of soup. Still others bought doughnuts, cigarettes, and/or lottery tickets.

Another group of customers were people from the Interstate, often responding to the prominent billboard advertising that the 24/7 was 'always open.' They came inside, looking for candy or nuts, and hot coffee, to keep them awake; they would then return to the highway. Some were truckers, of course, and the group of stores had a nice parking area especially designed for parking an 18-wheeler. The truckers were the main customers for the girlie magazines. She could just imagine what went on inside the truck cabins when the truckers returned to their trucks with one of the magazines.

Steph wondered why a man would pay $12 to $15 for a magazine, more than her hourly wage (before taxes!), when he could get porn for free on the Internet? Men did, nevertheless. Maybe they didn't have Internet access at home? Or in their trucks? She could believe it, given the way they looked. A lot of them were scruffy looking men.

Steph had looked at the magazines. Women, real women in the flesh, don't look like those naked girls in the magazines. Photoshop is a wonderful thing, isn't it? It was December, and the magazines had their Christmas issues out, they had just arrived, and the bimbos in them were wearing cute little Christmas hats. So too was Steph, and she blushed at the thought.

The company mandated she wear a Christmas hat, so of course she did. She was not about to lose her job over a Christmas hat. In addition, she was wearing a thin, bright red T shirt, and a Kelly-green short skirt. Actually, the skirt wasn't simply short, it was the shortest skirt she had ever seen on a woman. It barely covered her panties. Again, company orders. Political correctness was well and fine in Chicago, but in rural, deep Indiana? There, sex sells. She even wore a Christmassy scrunchy as a bracelet and another as an anklet. She had to admit, she looked cute. She was reluctant also to admit to herself that she looked hot as hell, but she knew it was the case.

It was the graveyard shift on a Friday night. That's the night Tom Evans always dropped by to buy some smokes, on his way home from work. He was a registered nurse at the local hospital. Like clockwork he'd show up between 3:05 AM and 3:15AM. He always gave her a compliment on her appearance, and she always tried to look her best for him. It wasn't because she liked him; no, it was because she liked his compliments. He'd also flirt just a bit, and she enjoyed that too. The graveyard shift can get truly lonely. He was however around 50 years old, and she was only 21, so she never took the flirting seriously.

That evening, to give Tom a nice surprise, she had skipped wearing a bra. She had brought one with her, and she figured she'd put it on after Tom's nightly visit, after he bought his pack of Marlborough Lights. He was always embarrassed to buy them, discussing how he was trying to quit, even if Steph knew he wasn't serious about quitting. She wondered if Tom would even notice?

The truckers who came in for the girlie magazines, often repeat customers whom she recognized, all noticed, every single one of them, that she was braless. They took good looks, trying to make her T shirt transparent or something, but none of them ever commented, thank goodness.

When Tom came in for his smokes, he was more talkative than usual, staring constantly at her nipples poking at her T shirt. Tom explained to her he knew that it was cheaper to buy the cigarettes by the carton, (yes, the 24/7 also sold cigarettes by the carton), but part of his attempts to quit involved forcing himself to buy one pack at a time. That way, he could fool himself that he wasn't smoking that much. He had actually said that to Steph. She had just smiled. Steph smiled a lot. It's always good to keep a pretty smile on your face if you work in the service industry. They had taught her that in her three-hour long training course for the job.

The store was always a little too warm, since customers like it warm during the winter months, and occasionally Steph would step outside for a while to enjoy the fresh air, and to cool off a bit. She'd get cold after a few minutes and head back in. When she did so, without a bra to dampen the effect, her nipples were poking at the T shirt with enthusiasm. They were hard and erect, due to the cold. She giggled to herself when she realized it.

She had just returned to the inside of the store when Tom showed up. They exchanged pleasantries (yes, it was indeed cold enough for Steph, and no, it wasn't yet too cold to snow, but no snow was forecast, anyway). Tom asked for his pack of Marlborough Lights, and Stephanie decided it was time for a tease.

"You know, it doesn't look to me like you're quitting, Tom. You buy the same pack of cigarettes every week," Steph said.

"I might stop, if you weren't so fetching. I love coming here and looking at you," Tom replied.

Steph blushed, but she replied, "We also sell candy, nuts, soup, ravioli, milk, snacks, bread, doughnuts, antifreeze, motor oil; all sorts of stuff. You can buy all manner of things besides your smokes, and yet still come in to visit with me, you know."

"You really want me to quit?" he asked.

"It's none of my business, actually, but yes, Tom, I do," Steph said.

"How about a little incentive, then?" Tom asked.

"What do you mean?" Steph replied.

"Well, I've noticed of course you're not wearing a bra tonight," he said. Steph blushed fuchsia, but managed a self-satisfied smile. "Don't worry, you're even prettier without a bra."

"I think you mean sexier," she said, but she was wallowing in the excitement that Tom had noticed, and she liked it. She was smiling broadly now, right through her Covid-19 mask.

"Both, actually. Prettier and sexier. Here's my proposal: I'll quit for a day if you flash me your tits," he said. "I'm sure they're gorgeous, and I'd love to see them." Tom looked nervous, and well he should have, to ask such a thing!

Steph was surprised and taken aback by Tom's proposal, coming seemingly from out of the blue! So much for the idea of a subtle tease! "I had an accident with my bra, Tom," she lied. "I'm not coming on to you."

"Well, I guess I'm coming on to you," Tom said.

Steph was annoyed. "Listen to yourself: You're what, around 50 years old? I'm only 21. We appreciate your business, but you can't act like that with the employees of 24/7," she said, repeating a sentence she was forced to memorize from the three-hour training session for her job.

Tom was embarrassed. What had he been thinking? Of course, Steph was only interested in men -- that way -- who were around her own age. He was probably the age of her father, or maybe older? Well, maybe she had a thing for her father? Lots of girls do, after all. She could displace it onto him, right?

Steph, on the other hand, was torn. What harm would it do to flash her boobs? Well, for one thing she'd be acting like a slut; an easy woman. What would her on again -- off again -- boyfriend and occasional lover, Logan, think? She actually didn't know; not a good sign. He'd probably be okay with it as long as he was able to continue to get his rocks off using her body. She knew he only liked her for the sex, and to make his friends, all of whom drooled over her body, jealous as all get out.

Maybe she could get something out of this. Tom was leaving, half out the door, when Steph called out to him. "Tom, do you really want to see my tits?"

Tom turned around, surprised. "Yes, Steph; I've always liked beautiful things, be they paintings, sculpture, scenic pictures, or a woman's boobs. I'll bet yours are gorgeous."

"Men do seem to like them," Steph said, coquettishly. "I always get something from the men, though," she added, thinking how they'd buy her dinner, or take her to a show. She was expecting Tom to ask her out. They'd go someplace where Logan wouldn't see them, of course. Maybe even Indianapolis? Logan didn't own her, anyway; it was not like Logan had any intention of marrying her, like ever! Besides, she'd heard from the grapevine that he was sniffing around Alexis Halliday.

"How about fifty dollars for a flash and a feel, Steph?" Tom proposed.

Steph was stunned. Did he think she was a whore? Offering her money was so disrespectful! He had completely misinterpreted her. Or had he? The guys who took her to the movies or out to eat spent way less than $50 on her, and yet they got to make out with her and sometimes even to get her naked! With Tom, she'd get the money straight out, rather than disguised via heartburn after crappy Mexican food.

Tom had put a $50 bill on the counter. It had a nice picture of former president U.S. Grant on it. Kind of cool, having a president whose initials are U.S., she randomly thought, as she stared at the bill.

"I was thinking, Tom, that maybe you'd ask me out, or something, not offer me money, like I was a cheap whore," Steph said.

"Fifty dollars for a look and feel is not cheap. I guess you don't know the going rate for whores in this part of the world," Tom said, suppressing a chuckle. "Here, let me sweeten it," he added, as he placed a twenty on top of the fifty. Now she had Andrew Jackson as well as Grant! Steph sighed with frustration. Tom was not going to understand. Maybe he'd add a penny, a nickel, and a dime? Then she'd have $70.16, and five presidents.

"'Tom, you're not understanding what I'm trying to say!" Stephanie said, not really hiding her frustration.

"Okay, pretty girl. Here's another ten, but now I'm tapped out. That's $80 total, just for a look and a quick feel. It's a good deal, if you ask me," he said. Alexander Hamilton was not a president. Did he really count?

Steph knew she had some faults. One of her faults was that she's much too impetuous, and also a bit too casual about sex. She decided in a split second that Tom was coming on to her (well, that was obvious), and that she liked it. Shit, she liked him. Also, she realized she actually did want him to quit smoking. You know, for his health. You like a guy, you want him to be healthy. She liked Tom.

"Agree to quit for two days, and you've got a deal," Steph said.

"Okay, I won't smoke before 3AM on Monday," Tom said.

"It's 3:30 AM right now," Steph rejoined.

"Aren't we a stickler? Really, thirty minutes? Okay, 3:30 AM it is, but I want a long flash," Tom said.

"What's a long flash?"

"I want to see those puppies for at least three minutes," Tom said.

"Three days, then. 72 hours, with no smoking, and no touching," Steph said.

"No touching is ridiculous. A flash is worthless unless there's touching, Steph," he said.

"Outside. We do it around back. Security cameras, you know," Steph said. Tom got excited. She was agreeing! He was going to see her boobs, just like that, just because he asked? Well, there was also the $80; but it was money well spent. Excellent! Very excellent, indeed.

There was the issue of the truckers. There were always a few, usually more than a few this time of night, parked out back in the special spaces designed for them. Well, they'd almost certainly be asleep. Best just not to think about it, Steph rationalized.

Tom loved her boobs. Steph even removed her T shirt for him. He ended up playing with her tits, tweaking her hard nipples, and slobbering first on her left breast, then on her right. Probably they went at it together for a good five minutes before topless Steph began to freeze to death. Steph was amazingly, and surprisingly, aroused by the entire event.

Tom had her walk back to the front still topless, and that was just as another customer pulled up! Steph had never put on a T shirt faster than she did just then! A man came in, looking amused, and bought a pack of Pall Mall Spearmints. Steph blushed throughout the sale, the customer chuckled, and then he left, together with his cigarettes. As he left, he said, "Good to see you, Horse," and Steph died. He turned to Steph, too, as he was leaving, and said, "Great boobs." Steph died again. How many times can a girl die, anyway? The customer knew Tom? She knew the two of them would be discussing her, the first chance they got! Why did he call Tom 'Horse?' It had to be a nickname. She didn't really see Tom, however, as much of an equestrian, and unlike Princess Anne, nobody would ever say Tom's face resembled a horse!

As Tom got ready to leave, Steph said, "Remember, Tom. 72 hours. A deal's a deal."

**

The next night was Saturday night, the traditional night of Steph's date with Logan Sands. She texted Logan she had to work, since the usual person who worked Saturday nights at the 24/7 was sick. She knew he'd be upset. He surprised her, however, when he showed up around 2 AM at the 24/7.

"Checking up on me, are we, Logan?" Steph said, as her greeting. She knew he'd be suspicious about her excuse, although this time, at least, it was the truth.

"Damn straight, Steph. You know our Saturday nights are sacrosanct. You should have refused to work," he said.

"And get fired?" Steph retorted. She didn't mention she was getting paid time and a half. "Want some cigarette paper and some matches?" she offered, knowing that Logan always seemed to need supplies to roll joints. She couldn't very well offer him the weed itself. She handed over both items.

"Yeah, thanks. Listen, what time do you get off work tonight?" he asked.

"8 AM. Why do you ask?"

"I'm kind of horny, is why. Why do you think?" Logan replied.

"Well, aren't you the romantic? Way to woo a girl, Logan," she said.

"Hey, I'm just being honest, here," Logan said. "You know I crave your sexy bod."

"Well, you're out of luck, I'm afraid. I have plans," she said.

"At 8 AM?"

"Yeah. My bathtub, and my bed after, are both impatiently calling me."

"I can help in both domains, pretty woman," Logan replied, actually trying to be nice, for once, by calling her pretty.

"I'm sure you can, but not this time, Logan. Thanks for stopping by. It's great to see you," Steph said, not at all feeling sincere as she spoke. In a moment of weakness, however, she said, "Want to come over around noon on Sunday? I'll make us brunch." Steph had a weakness for Logan. When they, well, you know, she always had a climax. He gave her rough sex, and it really turned her on.

Logan came by at high noon on Sunday, and a still bleary-eyed Steph welcomed him with a kiss. Logan was immediately all over her, and a giggling Stephanie was quickly undressed and carried off to her bedroom, which was only a few feet away from the front door. Logan threw her down on the bed, and the well-trained woman fell onto it on her back with her legs spread. Logan jumped on top of her, causing Steph to empty her lungs, as Logan's weight crushed her rib age.

Logan slid down her body, as Steph regained her breath, until his head was between her legs, and Steph emitted appreciative happy sounds as Logan's tongue began to work its magic. This time he added some fingers inside her as he licked, and Steph, always a sucker to being eaten out, quickly climaxed.

Logan seized the moment and rose back up, his hard cock hovering, with menace and promise, both, only inches away from paradise. Steph was good and wet at this point, and Logan slipped right in, to a happy groan from Steph. He pumped away for seven minutes as Steph timed it by her wall clock behind him before emptying his balls into the rubber. He rolled off Stephanie, went to the toilet, and flushed the full rubber and his urine down the toilet, while Steph stayed on the bed, naked and wanton, thoroughly unsatisfied.

Steph had always loved the way Logan fucked and this time was no exception, even if it ended rather quickly. Somehow his thick cock managed always to rub away at her G spot, or something like that. His cock always seemed to drive her over the moon; every single time. This was one of the rare times she didn't climax. She wondered why.

Logan's fuck was again wonderful, but it was simply eros. Sex with Logan was just not doing it for her, anymore. They were fucking, not making love. Logan just wanted to empty his balls in the local sexpot; there was no emotional connection. Yes, that was probably the reason her body denied her the climax. Well, it was still pleasant, nevertheless.

"I should start making the brunch now," Steph said, five minutes later, while the two lovers were cuddling in bed. "Alexis will be arriving, soon."

"Alexis?" Logan replied, "What the Flocka?" Steph could hear the alarm in his voice.

"Yes, I invited her over to join us. She's my best friend, don't you know?" Steph asked. "By the way, Logan my sweet lover, how does Alexis fuck? Is she as good in bed as I am?" Steph added, as she casually dropped a nuclear bomb.

When Alexis arrived, she found Steph and Logan screaming at each other, and Logan stormed out. "Pity, that. I had bought real Vermont maple syrup, and everything, too," Steph said to Alexis, her eyes dancing in mischief.

"It smells great in here, Steph. Let's you and me enjoy it, just the two of us, shall we?" Alexis replied.

**

Tom returned to the 24/7 the next week, and diplomatically, Steph did not as Tom if he had kept the 72 hours promise, and Tom didn't tell. Steph had decided that Fridays, the days of Tom's visits, would always be braless, and she was again without a bra. Around 3 AM she went outside and her nipples hardened up right away. The December cold will do that to a woman wearing only a T shirt over her boobs.

Tom was surprised she had gone braless again, and he was thoroughly delighted. He promised another 72 hours of smoke-free life the coming week, if Steph would give him another chance at her luscious boobs. Again, the two went behind the little store, and in full view of the mostly sleeping truckers, Steph once again removed her T shirt, flashing her boobs to Tom for a good several minutes, as he kissed her nipples, and played with her boobs with his experienced fingers. Steph was thoroughly turned on, and in a way she hadn't felt since, well, since ever! He again gave Steph $80. This time he did it by giving her $80 for a Snickers bar, saying, "Keep the change, gorgeous."