Chapter 1: Graveyard Shift
The cardboard box was surprisingly light. I had braced myself for a heavy weight, as much of the load that needed moving was heavy. I checked my schedule list again. This section of boxes should be jeans and trousers, but the room was in complete chaos as last week's shift were inundated with stock and just dumped boxes where there was space. I paused, the only sounds were the strange ticking of ancient Victorian water pipes as they cooled down in the cooling air of the night.
The air is musty. Dry. Very still, I could hear myself breathing.
I was on graveyard shift. It was 3.30 am. Dead and quiet, here and there some glow from emergency lighting, every now and again the pipes echoed eerily through the floors and up to the attic spaces. I was in the main store room on the upper warehouse level, the dim lights hung low from the high ceilings, now lost in the dim shadow of piled boxes, wooden racks and shelving. About now there should be a patrol from security but they hardly ever wandered out from their office, I have caught them several times snoozing over easy chairs, Ol' Jack, Eric and John Boy's soft porn mags having slipped off their laps onto the floor. Playboy and Leg Heaven. In the three years I've worked here I've encountered around twenty or so patrols, mainly due to the new recruit who obviously felt honour bound to do a few security checks. But even he succumbed to sleep, and so I had the entire store to myself, well almost, Chris was somewhere in stores getting clothes ready for display near the office section. I didn't mind Chris, he was big guy with some brains, not overly intelligent but we had a laugh and he worked hard - saw me as his superior although I wasn't. I was just more with it.
Hornes Department Store stood on the corner of Walford and Gussington Street, a vast rambling Victorian edifice with numerous extensions and wings added as Hornes expanded and grew over the decades. Its still run by the family, Angela Horne, great granddaughter of Alvinton Horne the founder, is the owner and manager of the shop. She is very dedicated and tends to works long hours, she always chats to me when she sees me as she goes home sometimes as late as midnight.
Angela Horne, for a middle aged lady is quite foxy. She has attractive long brown hair and is very tall. She's always in a business suit and believes all her employees to be dressed smart. She even grants clothing allowances from the store, and so I am always in smart jeans and shirts even for a shift such as the graveyard shift.
I shifted the light box over to the centre of the room, in the overhead light I could see it was hosiery, a box of large sheer tights. Aristoc. I checked it off the lingerie-hosiery list and pushed over to the third door. Chris could take it down when he finishes the display mound. I look at my watch, its 3.45am. Where can he be? The job should have only taken 5 minutes if that. He was a bit of a daydreamer. I often caught he staring off into space, or fixated on floor girl. I found him one shift stroking a silky nightie in the women's department just gazing at the mannequins. He snapped out of it when I called for him, said he was thinking about Alison.
Now if Angela if foxy, then Alison is a babe. She's taller than Angela and she wears very high heels that make her long legs look even longer. She wears short skirts and blouses, her breasts are a good size but it is her legs that are gorgeous. Very well defined legs and nice thin ankles, she always wears shiny sheer tights either nearly black or navy. Alison is the new women's department manager. She's been here for two months, and has turned every bloke's head who works here, even Colin the gay guy in Luggage.
I checked off a few more rails of suits and moved a couple of baskets of tee-shirts over. The room was becoming more organised. Hopefully by the end of my fortnight shift the stores would be efficiently organised once again.
Chris was really taking his time, I decided to go looking for him. Tick tick went the pipes as I past beneath them down the stairs to the main office floors. The big waste bins hadn't been emptied yet, Chris was slacking! Old display clothes were dumped here after they were offered to staff for minimal amounts. What with the clothing allowances much of the ex-display clothes were left for charity. I pushed past the wheelie-bins and noticed that one of the office doors was open. In the dim light of the corridor I could see a shadowy figure inside. 'Oh shit,' I thought initially. Burglars. Where was security when you needed them! I was about to head off to fetch Dave, head security officer, when a low desk lamp was switched on in the room. I stepped closer quietly, and hunched down beside the door. The office door plaque read 'Alison Bourget, Womenswear Mananger.'
I could see a crumpled heap of cloth on the floor. Jeans? Chris's jeans were on the floor! In the desk light I saw Chris standing there in front of a long mirror. He was wearing a pair of sheer black tights and nothing else. In the reflection I could see he was admiring his long legs and was getting turned on by them. His large cock was erect and poking skywards encased in black nylon. I was quite shocked by the sight.
To see a well built guy naked except for sheer to waist tights, dick erect and buttocks clenched was strangely arousing. My own cock started to grow in the underpants. I continued watching. Chris was turning sideways from left to right and right to left, his eyes peeled to the mirror. Then he pulled the gusset down and started to take his cock in his hand and touch it. He moaned with pleasure. My dick was hard. He started to masturbate, his hand going up and down slowly. With his left hand he reached forward and grabbed at something. Another pair of tights, navy ones. He brought these close to his face. Chris was sniffing the crotch area of the tights. Even from here I could see they had been worn before. He moaned "Alison, oh Alison", and was wanking himself off faster and faster. After a few minutes he stopped suddenly and groaned loudly, his dick twitching madly before he came big gushes of white spunk into his hand. He dropped the navy tights and brought his hands to his mouth. Chris was licking and eating his own cum!! I was so hard I was almost cumming myself. I had never seen anything like this before!
I backed off slowly and silently, Chris was pulling his black tights down. I headed back to the stairs. "Oi Chris! Where are you, you lazy oik"! I yelled suddenly, grinning from ear to ear. I could imagine the look of horror on his face. I heard him swear and scramble around frantically getting his normal clothes back on.
"Oi Chris! You finished with the bins yet? We've got all of mens to sort out and its nearly four already".
I hung around the stairwell, and kicked the nearest bin to me.
He swore again. I grinned even more.
"Coming"! Chris yelled exiting the office as silently as he was able. He then ran round the corner practically into my arms. I could smell the spunk on his breath. He backed off quickly. "Had to empty the rubbish down on third before I could...er move these down". He lied. I could tell when Chris lied as he always hesitated and rubbed his chin with his hand. "Yeah, right", I said.
The rest of the shift till seven we spent in the main store sorting out boxes. I had noticed the wheelie bins were full with lingerie and snagged hosiery from the display mannequins. I had concocted a plan.