Melissa Wors at the Hardware Store

This story was written for the

750 Word Project 2025

Brooke from the hardware store left about a year ago. That's a shame. She was an attractive young woman, and the stories I wrote about her might have been true. Who can say?

Now when I go there, which I do every week or two, there's a new woman at the counter taking my money. Damn near takes my heart, and even my breath away. More like my common sense, where did that go? I could almost be quite besotted. Her badge says Melissa. She's older than Brooke by twenty years or so, but that doesn't matter. She's so very friendly, she makes conversation. I want to stay and continue the conversation, and she would too.

The last time I was there the next person in line was quite patient, but we had to stop telling each other about our log fires in winter, because the next person wanted to get served. Melissa had already given me change, and I think her fingers touched mine when she did so. Might have touched mine. Probably didn't touch mine. I wanted to touch her fingers.

Melissa uses old Tasmanian oak cut from old buildings on her fire in winter, whereas I use fallen gum branches from the trees out the back. Her fire would burn hotter than mine. I wonder if her fire would have a rug or carpet in front of it, or a snug couch with a blanket draped over the back. Mine does. The couch is a two-seater, big enough to make love on.

She's a curvy little woman, wears shorts at the moment because it's summer and still hot. She's got sturdy thighs and her breasts are quite small. She's my type. Her smile is spontaneous, very friendly. I can see why she got the job. Her customer service is... well, I want to go back on the days she's working, to buy stuff that I don't really need, just so I can see her again. Pay my money, make conversation. Be remembered as the bloke with the Norwegian cast iron stove. It's a Jotul 8, first introduced in Norway in the 1980s, and is such a good design it's never been changed.

What I really want to do is get her to myself somehow, to undo those eight buttons on her tradie's work shirt, and enjoy the cleavage that I'd find there. Her bra might be quite plain, but she looks like a woman who could do colours, sexy satin and lace, something like that. She looks like a woman who'd get what she wants, and wouldn't be too shy to tell you. I like women like that. There's something in their eyes that's no lie.

She said, "You've got three dollars credit, do you want to use that?" The store's given me a card, they've got an incentive scheme that really adds up to a saving. You pay for it, of course, because you keep going back to buy more stuff that you don't really need. But the pay-off is there, because I get to flirt with Melissa. It's not really flirting. She's giving me change, or the receipt from the till.

I take the discount, but what I really want to do is peel those shorts off, pull down her panties, and go down on her, go down on a pussy that would enthral me, keep me between her legs for a while. A good long while, till my mouth was full of her taste, until I knew just how wet she got when I kissed her. Right there between her legs, sexy Melissa who wears blue denim shorts and a blue cotton shirt with her name on.

She wears work boots too, so I'd start by undoing the laces and getting those boots off first. Then move my slow fingers up her legs, moving up to find the zip and button of her shorts, peel them down to reveal a pair of plain panties. Or the sexy ones, lingerie in her favourite colours, depending on her mood when she gets dressed in the morning. She's quite tanned, is Melissa, so she'd look good in strong colours, my favourite blues or a deep burgundy red. It's quite unexpected, when you find lace on the woman who serves me at the hardware store. One expects something else.

But I don't know what to expect, because I've never undressed Melissa before. It's always a treat, undressing a woman for the first time. The woman at the hardware store.