The Hard Body Shop Clerk Ch 02

THURSDAY AFTERNOON

As usual, the morning went by fast and before Cori knew it, it was lunch time. The guys gave her their orders from the diner and she called them in. Fifteen minutes later, she left to go pick them up.

The diner was three blocks down and on the other side of the street. To get to it, she passed several small stores and offices as well as a barber shop. Every day, she saw men standing at the big glass windows, watching for her to make her daily lunchtime trip. Today, there was also a small crew doing some road work, and they stopped to whistle and cheer as she walked by. She smiled and waved back, but didn't stop.

Her suit was slipping and sliding, but so far staying in place sufficiently enough. She walked into Daddy's Diner where Jack "Daddy" Collins was waiting for her at the counter. Like so many men in the town, he looked forward to his daily glimpse of Cori. Obviously, today's appearance didn't disappoint him in the least.

He was in his late 40s and had owned the diner for 20 years. It was called "Daddy's Diner" because that's what his daughter — who was the same age as Cori — had named it when she was a kid. To this day, his daughter Tammy was one of Cori's best friends. They had even roomed together during their brief time in college. That's when Jack had really started to notice what a hottie Cori was becoming.

As always, the diner was full of men, who were both enjoying a good lunch and waiting to see Cori. Normally, they would just greet her and thank her for stopping by, but today they all gave her a standing ovation. A few snapped photos and a couple held camcorders. Cori smiled, waved to everyone and said hello. She accepted their attention not as some sort of objectification, but as flattery and was truly humbled by their reaction.

"Great outfit today, Cori," Jack smiled, handing her two bags of food. Cori didn't have to pay — they had an account set up with the diner and paid monthly for their lunches. Cori gave a last wave, turned and then, as a way of thanking everyone, bent over at the waist, pretending to adjust her shoes, then walked out to a second standing ovation.

After she left, Barry Jarvis, a skinny 30-year-old with stringy brown hair, ran to the window and watched her walk down the street. Very few people liked Barry. He bounced from job to job, was believed to be on drugs and had a knack for saying crude comments. This latter trait prompted him to say, "Damn, I'm tired of just looking. One of these days I'm just going to take that bitch, tie her up and make her my whore."

"You do and Ben and the boys will kill you," Jack growled. "And then I'll kill you. Leave her alone, Jarvis. Understand? Now get your ass out of here."

Jarvis flipped him off and walked out, starting to follow in the same direction as Cori, then apparently thinking better of it and heading the opposite way. Jack and the rest of the guys were happy to see him go. Jarvis was a troublemaker and the sort of guy who might do something stupid. Jack had warned Tammy about staying clear of Jarvis many times, and now he would have to worry about Cori as well.

To Jack, Cori was a like a local treasure — the sort of thing you put on a sign as people drove into town because you wanted everyone to know how proud you were to be that person's hometown. It wasn't just because Cori was the hottest woman he'd ever seen. He'd known her since she was a child and knew what a great, honest, humble, intelligent and caring person she was. All those things made her all the more sexy, as far as Jack was concerned, and worth protecting from men like Jarvis.

Jack picked up the phone and called Ben, just to let him know what Jarvis had said and to be on the lookout. Jack knew at least one of the guys from the shop was with Cori at almost all times, but he wanted to make sure they knew what Jarvis might be thinking.

Ben thanked him and assured him they would be on the lookout. This wasn't the first time some jerk had made somewhat threatening comments about Cori, so Ben wasn't shocked. But he always took these threats seriously and understood that Cori was a potential target.

Cori, who of course was completely unaware of Jarvis' comments, had a relatively uneventful walk back to the shop. The construction crew gave her another round of applause and there was a near traffic accident as she crossed the street — an out-of-towner stopped to gawk and nearly got sideswiped by a delivery van. The oil was very slowly beginning to dry up a bit, reducing the slippage in her suit. She was still very slick and sleek looking, her skin glistening brightly in the warm September sun.

She walked into the shop right behind the FedEx delivery man, Bob, who, as he always did, greeted her with a light pinch on the ass followed by two firm squeezes on her tits. This time, he found his hands covered in oil and didn't complain a bit, using a shop towel to dry them off as he left. "Thanks Cori! Have a great afternoon."

Cori distributed the sandwiches, chips and cookies from the diner, keeping a tuna salad sandwich and a bag of chips for herself. Ben brought out cans of pop from the back for everyone and they sat around their small lunch table in the break room, which was just behind the front counter.

They all sat around and talked while they ate. Ben told them all about Jarvis. He didn't see any reason to try and hide it from Cori. She understood these things and was mature enough to handle it. Sure it bothered her a little, but she wasn't scared of a punk like Jarvis. Still, it was good to know to be on the lookout.

As always, each of the guys vowed to protect her. Then talked turned to more pleasant things, such as Cori's new suit and lube job.

"We're going to have to order more of that oil," Chad said. "I think that should become part of her regular attire."

"I'm way ahead of you," John said. "I ordered us two cases. I also ordered 12 more of those suits — some different colors and such. Plus, Cori, I got two that are a size smaller than that one. I know it's tight, but do you mind at least trying it?"

"Of course not," Cori said. "I don't know if a size smaller will fit without snapping, but I'll sure try it for you."

"Thanks. You're starting to dry up a bit. We'll put some more oil on you this afternoon before the 4 o'clock crowd comes in," John said.

At around 4 o'clock every day, about a dozen men — sometimes more, sometimes less — came in and sat around the shop. They didn't have any work that needed to be done. They had just sort of adopted the shop as their after work hangout, sort of like a barber shop. They played pool, watched TV, drank a few beers and, of course, checked out Cori's daily attire. Ben was friends with most of the guys and welcomed them every day. He called them the Irregulars, partly because they were such an odd group. There were two retired guys in their 70s — old friends of Ben's dad — who came in, and the rest ranged in age from 40 to 65. They talked sports, women, cars and politics. They were also the guys who would come in and watch big games at the shop after hours, Ben always happy to let them in.

Naturally, they all looked at and touch Cori, but they treated her like one of the group, often inviting her to join them for a beer or to play some pool. Of course, the game often ended with Cori sprawled on the table in various seductive poses. But it was all harmless fun and part of the daily routine at the shop. They would be happy to see her new suit and oil-slicked body.

The afternoon went by quickly. A couple of customers came by to pick up their cars and naturally enjoyed Cori's new look, which she proudly displayed for them by doing a lot of unnecessary bending and stretching as she compiled their bills and receipts. She had long ago mastered the techniques of curving her body and posing in the right ways to best display her tits, ass, legs or whatever she wanted to show off.

At about three-thirty, John decided Cori needed a second dose of oil and lubed her up again. It took about half as much oil this time as the first, but he made sure she was well covered and sufficiently slick and glistening from head to toe and all points in between.

At about a quarter before four, Chester and Gordon, the two retirees, showed up. As always, Cori went up to them and gave them kiss on the cheek. Normally, she gave them a hug too, but this time she was careful to keep her oily body from staining their clothes.

Sweet gentlemen they were, they both asked permission before touching her.

"You know you don't have to ask," Cori said, holding her arms over her head, giving them access to all the areas they wanted to reach. They wasted no more time before groping her breasts and squeezing her ass. Oil oozed out between their fingers and the smiled at each other, sharing their enjoyment of her hard body. How many 70-year-old men got to look at a girl like this, let alone touch her? They loved her and treated with the respect and kindness they would show a member of their own family. But they also gladly accepted the opportunity to feel young again by interacting with this fun, sweet, gorgeous 22-year-old babe.

"Boy, I sure wish I was 40 years younger," Chester said. "We'd have a lot of fun, you and I, Ms. Cori."

"I'm sure we would," Cori said. The three of them had this same conversation every day.

"40! Hell, I'd settle for 20. I was still a tiger in my 50s," Gordon said as he tweaked her nipples through the suit.

"Well, if you boys ever feel frisky, you let me know and we'll turn back the clock a bit," Cori said.

They all laughed, knowing nothing more than this groping and sexual conversation would ever occur. The men, ever respectful of her and her body, soon finished their playful touching and took their customary places in two of the large recliners. Cori brought them both a beer and they sat back and relaxed, waiting for the rest of the Irregulars to arrive.

Most of the other guys worked together at the local printing shop — the same one that printed Cori's calendars and posters — and filed in shortly after 4. Cori greeted them all, letting each cop a feel while she twirled and modeled for them. Soon, everyone was comfortable, drinking, laughing, playing pool and commending John on his fine work with the skimpy suit and tantalizing oil.

"This outfit definitely needs to be a poster," Carl said. Carl was an outgoing 40-year-old African American who was built like a spark plug. He was always one of the most jovial members of the Irregulars. "Hell, you could do a whole calendar with just this one outfit. What do you say, Ben?"

"I like it, Carl" Ben said. "I always like your suggestions. John ordered several more of these suits and a couple of cases of baby oil, so I think we can make it happen. You better do a good job printing it for us though."

"Always, always," Carl said. "That's one job we never screw up. Got to do that body justice, you know."

"She's a work of art, that's for sure," Ben agreed. "Look at that."

Cori was telling the guys about Mr. Bell and demonstrating the stretching exercises he had taught her. As Ben pointed, she was bent over at the waist, legs together and hands gripping the gold straps of her heels wrapped around her ankles. She held this pose for far more than 30 seconds, letting the men look and comment at their leisure. A few reached out to squeeze her ass, but most stood back and enjoyed the view.

"He also said this would help," Cori said, spreading her legs past shoulder width and keeping her hands on her ankles. This brought a smattering of applause and cheers from the small crowd, who agreed that this exercise was probably even a bit more beneficial than the first one. That sentiment became unanimous when the slippery thong once again snaked in between her pussy lips.

"If there's such a thing as reincarnation," Carl said to the group, "I want to come back as a thong!" Everyone laughed and wholeheartedly agreed, seeing absolutely no absurdity in envying the life of a simple strip of cloth.

Without adjusting her suit, Cori then did the splits exercises, her pussy lips now completely engulfing the thong, which managed to cover only her engorged clit. Her nipples were still covered, straining against the top of the suit, but her glistening breasts bulged out on all sides, jiggling invitingly as she leaned forward and touched her forehead to the floor.

Then, she brought the house down by rolling on her back and putting her legs behind her head. With the thong actually acting to spread her pussy lips, her twat was even more exposed than if she had been naked. Every time she'd start to put her legs down, the guys would beg her for just a little longer. She stayed like that for five minutes before finally getting up. John immediately came over and once again re-positioned her thong to cover her pussy. He received a mock chorus of boos and a lot of hearty slaps on the back.

Having entertained the Irregulars, Cori went to the front desk to take care of a customer who was dropping off his car and to finish up some paperwork before the end of the day. In addition to her modeling and entertaining types of duties, Cori was genuinely a very skilled and efficient office worker. She handled the accounting, billing and filing with ease and accuracy. She monitored inventory , took care of the payroll and insurance enrollments. Even if she was unattractive and fully dressed, she would have brought tremendous value to the shop. Her 36c-22-34 perfectly shaped body was a bonus, and, in reality, a life-saver for the once-struggling shop.

As was often the case, Ben and Chad didn't leave at five when their shift technically ended. They cleaned up and changed and joined the Irregulars for some beers and pool. Around 6 — after the Irregulars had a couple of beers in them — they requested another stretching show from Cori. She obliged, of course, but only after Chad added a third coat of baby oil to her supple skin. John and Ty were in the back working this time, so when Cori finished with her legs behind her head and her thong inside her pussy, everyone else volunteered to remove the thong for her. Gordon, being the oldest member of the Irregulars, was given the honor and proudly set about his work.

The thong was wedged so tightly inside her that he had to spread her pussy lips with one hand and use his other hand to insert his index finger inside her. Encouraged by the crowd, he inserted it up to the knuckle — much deeper than he really needed to — and extracted the soaked, stretchy fabric, placing it back over her puffy lips.

For the second time that afternoon, Cori elicited cheers and some disbelieving groans when she put Gordon's finger in her mouth and sucked it clean. Gordon feinted having a heart attack, then sat back down, smiling from ear to ear.

Everyone hung out until 7, when John and Ty finished their shifts.

"Party's over, fellas," John said as he walked out of the locker area, having cleaned up and changed into a pair of khakis and a nice button down shirt. "Miss Cori and I have a date, so, if you guys don't mind, we're out of here."

Everyone said good night and took a final, longing look at Cori as she walked out the door, arm-in-arm with John, who carried another full bottle of oil in his other hand. To a man, they were all jealous, knowing what kind of evening John was in for.