The next week at work, Brittany found herself noticing new things around the building. She mostly noticed how much customers noticed
her,
and Brittany wondered where the attention was coming from. Granted, with her body, men always gave her attention, but something just felt different.
Maybe it was because she also couldn't help but occasionally stare back at her admirers. Or stare at the lumps in their pants as they walked up to her service station. She even started paying special attention to the way some customers manhandled heavy equipment.
A young man in his late twenties walked up to her service station on a Wednesday afternoon after the daily rush was over. He was wearing basketball shorts and a t-shirt, had a short-cropped beard and held two neatly-folded receipts in his hand. Brittany's eyes easily made out the bulge in his shorts that bounced subtly against the fabric over his inner thigh.
Her eyes snapped up to his face as she blushed, and she blurted, "Sorr-Hi how can I help y-, thank you for visiting the service department?"
Brittany was embarrassed, but the man didn't seem to mind the awkward question. Or the staring. He instead held out his receipts and asked, "If I bought some supplies a few weeks ago, could I still return them? I bought all this stuff for a renovation, but my client didn't know what she was talking about. I didn't need most of it."
Brittany, still red in the cheeks, replied more smoothly than her introduction. "It depends, do you mind showing me your hardware?" Her wording caught up her tongue for a second and she blushed deeper. She cleared her throat. "Some items can't be returned if they're opened, and some special items can't be returned at all."
The response was a practiced one, and Brittany always expected to deal with an upset customer at that point. She took his receipts and started glancing over them. As she looked them over, the young customer looked over her, admiring her bust that pushed against the buttons of her blouse, and briefly glancing down at her hips. She wore a pair of black yoga pants that day with low, strap heels.
Brittany finished reviewing his receipts and said, "Okay. I'll need to see the returns in case there's any damage to the packaging."
He just nodded and said, "Sure, they're out in my van."
Brittany nodded and immediately walked around to the front of her service station, ready to follow him outside. It wasn't too unusual to go out to the parking lot for a customer service concern, especially if it involved heavy equipment. She nodded at Rick, the only other customer service employee, to imply that she would be right back.
Her coworker glanced at her tits with a subtle flick of his eyes. Then he winked at her. She followed the customer outside, rolling her eyes with a little grin.
They made small talk on the way out of the building, mostly about his business and the weather. He seemed like a nice guy, down to earth, and easy going.
The customer had his company van, emblazoned with 'Ron's Renos,' parked on the side of the building. Brittany glanced at him as they approached the van. "So are you Ron?"
He shook his head. "Nope. That's my dad. I'm Jeremy."
"Nice to meet you, I'm Brittany."
The parking lot was fairly empty except for a handful of employee's trucks. As they approached the van, he went for the back doors. Brittany followed him around and watched as he swung the two doors open.
Inside were all the tools of his trade hanging from the walls or propped up in the corners, and on a low table were six bags with the Tray's Hardware logo. One large box, containing a new table saw, sat behind the low table, also with a Tray's Hardware logo.
Jeremy reached in, grabbed a metal handle under a table, and pulled. The entire table smoothly extended down and out of the van so that it was even with the bumper. Brittany was always interested in specialized equipment and stepped right up to the extended workbench to get a better look inside the van.
"So, most of this stuff is unopened. But I haven't actually used any of it. I totally get it if the opened stuff can't be returned, but I figured I'd give it a shot."
Brittany nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! We'll probably be able to take most of it back!"
The young man pressed close to her, and Brittany side-stepped as he squeezed past her. He stepped onto the workbench. "I'll grab the box," he explained as the lifted himself up. Neither seemed to notice that his loose basketball shorts caught on a cord hook attached to the open back door.
He straightened up to step into his van. As stood up and leaned into the van, the plastic hook inside the door yanked his shorts down. He rose up, and his shorts stayed at the level of the floor, leaving him with his cock unceremoniously flopping against his thigh and his shorts tangled around his ankles.
Both Brittany's and the man's eyes went wide, and the young man whipped around to pull his shorts off the hook. Brittany stared in shock at his cock, right at eye level, swung by, narrowly missing her face. The man desperately yanked his shorts back up to his hips.
God! It's as long as my forearm!
she thought, stunned.
Before his shorts were back up, he was already apologizing profusely -- "Oh my god I'm so sorry!" Brittany continued to stare in shock.
Stunned and not knowing what else to do, she apologized too. "S-Sorry, I didn't mean to get in the way! I mean, it's okay!" Feeling like she needed to defuse the situation, she automatically pivoted to, "You really have nothing to be embarrassed about!"
There was an awkward pause as the man yanked his shorts back up around hips. "I mean," Brittany faltered, impulsively talking to fill the brief silence, "There's no need to be embarrassed. That kind of thing happens, right?"
Jeremy slowly started moving again, shifting and pushing the box closer to the workbench. He shook his head as he said, "God, that's so embarrassing." A deep red flush had mottled his neck and forehead. "Stupid shit like that always happens to me. I'm so sorry."
Brittany, still trying to play it off, said, "Oh, no! It really wasn't bad to look at or anything!"
The young man stared at Brittany for a moment. "Uh, thanks."
Brittany, unsure of what to do with her hands, couldn't stop the words, "It was pretty big, so it's probably, um, not so bad?" Brittany stopped and looked at the ground. She bit her lower lip in embarrassment.
No more words!
she told herself. Her heart pounded in her chest as she got her thoughts under control.
The young man gave her a peculiar look. "So, um, thanks again. I actually feel better somehow."
Brittany laughed in embarrassment, shaking her head as she hid her face behind her hands. She looked back at the man for a second, then stared into the van. "Well, good!" She attempted to regain some professional composure. "I'm good at making guys feel good," she blurted. Her eyes went wide and she fumbled again, "I mean-"
This time the man laughed, interrupting her. "It's working," he said as he stacked the bags on the workbench in front of Brittany. "I'm just really glad you aren't like, calling the police or something." He nervously rubbed at the back of his head and stepped back from the van, giving Brittany room to get to the bags.
Brittany glanced down at his shorts as he stepped away and saw that he was half erect. He was still blushing and intently staring off to the side. Brittany's eyes locked onto the outline of his member through his shorts, biting her lip. She couldn't seem to look away. "Um, well, I should have a look at your hard on. -I mean, your hardware!" Brittany wanted to gag herself, but a tiny voice in her head asked if she'd said that last part on purpose.
"Uh, yeah. Feel free," he nodded as he looked back at Brittany, catching her staring at his erection. She jumped in surprise as their eyes met, and Brittany busied herself with the bags. The man went from half-erect to full hard-on as Brittany shakily grabbed up the bags that she could carry. The young man was still blushing, but he had a small smile at this point, knowing it couldn't get much worse.
