Call it "senior-itis" or the Spring Break blues. Whatever it was, it had me holding down the fort at the local shoe store. All of my high school and junior college employees could not work this particular Friday afternoon. The last-minute phone call from the guy who was scheduled to come in only proved what I already knew -- as assistant store manager I would have to work the store alone.
Business was slow, too. All afternoon I sat there waiting for a customer to come in so the time would pass by faster. I had already done some inventory, vacuumed and cleaned the entire store. I even went down the long aisles and made sure the boxes of shoes were stacked evenly and then replaced all the burnt out lightbulbs.
The layout of the store was simple. As soon as you walked in the front door there was a check-out counter. This was one of those low-cost shoe stores which meant very little money was spent on decorations, etc. The shoes were on display on top of a box with several boxes of the same style shoe stacked behind them. The customer would walk in, find the shoe they wanted, find their size, try it on and then proceed to the check-out counter to purchase it. The aisles were long with shoe boxes stacked about eight feet high all the way down the small corridors.
I was staring at the clock on the cash register and literally counting down the seconds to six o'clock (quitting time) when I heard the electronic tone signaling the arrival of a customer.
"I'm sorry we're ...," I started to say only to catch myself in mid sentence when I saw a cute young lady staring back at me.
"Are you closed?" she asked.
"Not yet," I said trying to recover. "We close at six. You just got here in time."
She turned her head from side to side looking around the store. The way her head moved caused her ponytail to dance. It also did wonders for the little outfit she had on. She was dressed in what looked like a Catholic school uniform with a white blouse, plaid skirt, long white socks pulled up to her knees and black pumps. She had on a little bit more make-up than one would expect from a Catholic school girl, but I had to admit to myself that she did look good.
"I'm sorry," she replied. "It's almost six now. Maybe I should come back some other time."
"Nonsense," I said, probably a little too quickly. "Let me just lock the door so nobody else comes in. Take your time and call me if you need any help."
Her smile and the way her eyes lit up caused my cock to stir. She turned around in slow motion and turned the dead bolt in the door locking it.
"Thank you!" she gasped excitedly when she turned back around. "I won't be long. I promise. I know exactly what I want."
My eyes followed her as she walked around the counter and down one of the aisles. I picked up the sports section of the newspaper I had already read five times today and pretended to read it as I watched her.
She moved down the center aisle and I silently thanked myself for taking time to replace all the fluorescent lights, that had gone out, earlier in the day. She walked away from me with a tiny purse hanging over her shoulder with a round pink sticker that read "Show Off." She went to the second pair of shoes on display at the bottom of the shelf and bent to inspect the shoe.
She did not bend at her knees and squat down to get a better view of the shoe. She bent at the waist with her young, smooth legs straight. It was almost like she was in PE class touching her toes to stretch before running. As she leaned her torso down and reached for the shoe her skirt, which I suddenly noticed was too short to be a school uniform, began to slowly hike up revealing the tops of her legs and then just an inch of her white panties.
She paused in that position and held the shoe in her hand turning it over as she inspected one side and then the next. Then, just before putting the shoe back down on the shelf she looked back and busted me.
Her cute face was just past her knee and her eyes twinkled when she caught me staring at her firm slender legs and the white panties clinging to her bubble butt. She must have waited in that position because when I finally got enough courage to take my eyes from the paper and look back in her direction she was still in the same position. She smiled when my eyes went back to her and then turned her face away from me and slowly stood back up in an erect position.
Needless to say, she wasn't the only one "erect."
Not happy with that style of shoe she walked down the aisle a little farther away from me as I "read" the paper.
She stopped and turned back to look at a pair of shoes she had just passed. She was facing me know and again caught me watching her. I couldn't help it. The way she walked in that short plaid skirt was doing something to me and I liked it. Her firm little bubble butt rocked back and forth perfectly as she walked as if she were doing a little dance to a tune in her head. It was mesmerizing.
She reached up for a shoe on the third shelf and couldn't reach it. She stood on her tippy toes and tried again stretching out her body like a cat on a warm quilt basking in the afternoon sun. Her legs grew taunt. Her blouse came untucked exposing her sexy abs and a bellybutton ring. She reached for the shoe again and her perfectly round grapefruit-sized breasts pressed into her thin blouse. For all her efforts, she still could not reach the shoe.
"Can you come help me?" she asked in a sweet sing-song voice.
"Of course," I said, putting down the newspaper and walking from behind the counter towards her. "What can I do?"
