I used to work at a major chain bookstore in California.
I pretty much liked all of my coworkers, but there was one in particular that I really enjoyed being around Christine, our H.R. Manager. She was a stunner. Long, thick, curly black hair, Gray eyes, full, red lips, with a buxom, hourglass figure and massive breasts that threatened to burst through her blouse whenever she took a deep breath.
She always dressed a cut above everyone else in the store. Flowing, gem colored silk blouses, knee length slit skirts, and slit just high enough to give me fever dreams of lust. She would always leave the top two or three buttons undone on her blouse, giving me a tantalizing flash of her deep cleavage when she would turn or bend to reshelf a misplaced book.
Whenever she talked to me I had to struggle to keep my eyes from drifting down her body. I would find myself staring at her lips as she spoke, mesmerized by her luscious mouth.
We would get together and discuss movies, books and music whenever we had a spare minute, and she would always blow me away with her wit and intellect.
I noticed that she always seemed to have an extra button opened whenever she came to talk to me. I was glad I was standing behind a counter whenever she was around.
Our company had a very strict harassment policy, so I was very careful to keep our conversation on a professional, but friendly level. It wasn't easy though.
Things continued normally for months, but I would find myself thinking about her constantly, dreaming sensual thoughts about her lips. I wanted to take her into my arms and feel her breasts crush against my chest while I kissed her, I wanted to tangle my fingers in her hair and drink her passion from those perfect lips.
I managed to keep things between us professional until the last night of inventory.
I was drafted to work a double shift. There was no way out of it because I'd managed to get out of the last four overtime calls, and no one was willing or able to cover for me.
There were only three of us working that night. Bonnie (the assistant manager), Christine, and myself.
We had to do the final counts and cleanup, as well as our regular workload of setting up displays, breaking down the last shipment of books and getting the new releases ready for the next day.
After we finished the displays, Bonnie told us to finish opening the last shipment of books that came in and close up. She said she didn't feel well and was going home. We hadn't even gotten through half of the workload.
Christine and I headed to the back room and began to break down the shipment. We started to open boxes and sort the books into the bins. It was hard work and after awhile we were ready for a break.
Christine dropped the stack she was sorting.
"Hey. Want to go get some dinner? It's break time."
"Sounds like a plan." I said.
We went to the Mexican place a couple doors down for some food.
We ordered our dinners and talked while we waited. We munched chips and salsa and bitched about work and life in general.
The waiter came by to get us more chips and salsa. He said there was some difficulty in the kitchen and asked if he could bring us some drinks on the house while we waited.
I was kind of surprised when Kristina looked at me with a wicked little smirk.
"Wanna be bad?"
I looked at her and thought it over for about half a second.
"Sure!"
She turned to the waiter.
"Two margaritas. Doubles."
The waiter took the order and headed towards the bar.
We had gotten quite a buzz by the time our food arrived, and our conversation had gotten pretty risqué. She was telling me about her ex boyfriend and how she dumped him when she came home from work early and found him screwing some bimbo he worked with.
We ate slowly, savoring the food. I had the Carnitas platter, and she ordered the Chile Colorado
Christine surprised me by ordering another round of margaritas before we went back to work.
"We are on duty you know." I said.
"Fuck that!" she said, surprising me even more.
"This is all overtime anyway. Bonnie bailed on us! That bitch is lucky we didn't leave her here to do all the clean up herself!"
One more margarita became 2 more and we left the restaurant in a very pleasant haze.
We went back to the store to finish the shipment.
One of the boxes held several books on erotic photography.
I tried to remain nonchalant as I pulled them out and stacked them on the shelving cart. I watched her face carefully as she looked at the titles, hoping she would give me a positive signal.
She just sorted the books on the cart without saying a word.
