I saw you out of the corner of my eye. Knew you were there before you said anything. You were wearing a suit, but under that I knew you were wearing those suspenders. You always wore them. And despite the fact that you had a girlfriend, those suspenders and the way you wore them made me attracted to you and your cynical personality.
"Hey," You say. You're a man of few words sometimes.
"Hey," I reply back and continue trying to fold the dress shirt around it's cardboard.
I scowl at the shirt and put my hands on my hips. The shirt just doesn't want to fold right and I can see the smile cross your face as you watch me. I attempt the fold a few more times, but then throw my hands up in exasperation.
"I give up," I say, and toss the sleeve away from myself.
"Here," You grab the sleeve, "let me do it."
I watch as your hands deftly move the cloth around. Your fingers, one ring on each, hold the cloth and manipulate it in ways I couldn't do a few moments earlier. A few folds and pins later, you flip the shirt over and look at me with a smug look on your face.
"Yeah yeah," I shake my head, "You don't have to rub it in my face." I push you on the shoulder in a flirty way and stalk off, my hips swaying beneath my skirt, my kitten heels tapping on the floor.
A few hours pass and somehow I end up right beside you again. I had just gotten done helping a customer and now I was watching you, your fingers dancing across the registers keys. The wrought iron rings on your fingers adding that extra little something to it all.
The last few hours pass without excitement. No customers walk through the doors, and we're stuck with nothing to do.
I sit on the counter, not afraid of the repercussions because our managers gone. We make easy conversation and I see your eyes on my legs as my black pencil skirt has scooted up, revealing most of my long legs. I brush it off because you tend to stare off in random directions, even though I wish you really were looking at me.
You shuck your jacket off and set it down on the counter, making sure to keep it from getting too badly wrinkled. And that's when I see them. The suspenders. The ones I dream about peeling off your body and then you having your way with me.
No one knows my fantasies of rough sex and getting my hair pulled. No one would thing that me-blonde hair, green eyes, fair skin, so innocent- would love nothing more for a man to just grab me and fuck me until I was sore and the orgasms became painful. But I kept that hidden beneath a false innocence and a played ignorance.
I secretly eyed you from my perch, my legs dangling inches from the ground. Your blonde hair short, eyes hidden behind glasses and a potentially amazing body hidden under your tailored look. I bite my lip, my mind wandering to all the things I wanted you to do to me. I could feel myself getting wet at the thought of you touching me.
Before I could stop myself, I let out a barely audible moan. Hoping you didn't notice, I drop myself to the ground.
"I'm going to make sure all the shoes in the back stock room are in order," I say, needing to get away from you before I lost my mind and my will power, "We had a rush earlier and I don't want either of us getting yelled at tomorrow." You gave me a curt nod and a salute as I quickly walk away, needing to get my mind off you, but only wishing you were on me.
Walking into the back stock room, I quickly discover all the shoes are in order. Looking around with contemplation, I take a deep breath.
"Well," I say to myself, "I might as well make use of my alone time."