Minimum Wage

Melanie was all about business. At least that's what I said to reassure myself. She'd never shown much kindness toward me. Whenever I spoke, her replies were always short and curt.

"What's up, Melanie?"

"Nothing."

"Pretty busy day today."

"I guess?"

"Well...later."

Then her nose might wrinkle, or she'd shake her head in annoyance and go back to work.

No, Melanie wasn't very nice. I couldn't say the same about her in the physical sense, which I would have described as 'cute.' Not 'drop dead fuckable,' but 'cute.' At 21, she had a body that might have customers mistaking her for younger. She was about 5'2 with dimples in her cheeks. Her hair was long, chestnut colored and hung to her shoulders; on duty she either wore it in a pony tail or a bun. Melanie's title was Office Operator which kept her off the floor during my shifts, but The Feedbag's dress code required all females to wear their hair out of the way regardless of where they worked. There was an overall brown tint to her skin that suggested she made frequent visits to the tanning bed.

The other regulation for females was a white dress shirt, khakis and a name tag. It was similar to what the males had to wear, minus a tie. I reasoned that whatever Melanie hid under her button-up shirt was just large enough to need a bra.

Since I rarely saw her outside of work, I often wondered if she ever laughed or smiled. Whenever my eyes wandered toward the overseeing window as I sorted groceries into plastic bags, my impression was that Melanie was Miss No Fun.

Not that I could blame her. The Feed was not fun, especially to someone who had graduated college and was under the mistaken impression that he'd leap from four years of higher education into a 30k job with benefits. Instead I ended up working part time, $ 6 an hour, up to a maximum of 32 hours a week.

It was double not fun when, three months into my Feed career, the store owner's grandson became a manager. Benny was his name and he was a real asshole. Maybe it was the fact that I hated him so, but he seemed to pick me as his personal stalking and berating victim. He was around the same age as me, a fresh or rising 22, yet the taste of power and authority had so inflated his ego that any age similarity didn't matter in employer/subordinate relations.

I once stepped away for a pee break. The restrooms were in the huge storage area, a dull gray space that housed the freezers and unopened pallets. After finishing I stopped for a quick chat with some friends in the break room.

"Higgins!" erupted a voice with an unmistakable self-righteousness and drill sergeant sharpness. I turned to Benny, his arms akimbo.

"You on your lunch break?"

"No."

"No, what?"

"No sir."

"You want me to tell Mr. McKelvey what you're doing back here instead of working?"

"No sir," I answered.

"That's what I thought. Now get out of here."

Days with Benny were a constant barrage of pop shots and loud words. On another occasion I slipped into the restroom to send a text. Benny walked in on me and threatened to have my job, despite his cigarette pack indicating why he was there.

An eight hour shift at the Feed felt eternal. The clock was on a strict regimen. The first hour went by quickly, but every hour following crawled at a slug's pace.

I clocked in at 12 one day. My sentence was scheduled to last until 8. The large store windows displayed a cloudless, sunny parking lot. I wasn't much of an outside person, but basking in that comfortable warmness would have definitely been a better option.

It was the first of the month, incredibly busy. The scanners sang like a chorus of birds, and lines of customers with stuffed buggies snaked as far as the Express Checkout counter. I knew I'd be shoving groceries into bags nonstop, and I cringed when I saw Benny in the office, making some remark I couldn't hear. Melanie rolled her eyes and shook her head.

In addition to bagging the groceries, my duties also included carrying orders to cars. It was a service upon which the Feed prided itself, and I occasionally got a dollar or two in tips. If I was lucky I might have twenty bucks in my pocket by day's end.

"Higgins," Benny said disapprovingly.

"Yes sir?" I replied as I placed two cereal boxes in the carryout cart.

"Straighten up your tie," he remarked. "We're professionals here."

I wanted to blurt out "oh are we?" but kept my thoughts to myself, as always.

Three carry outs later, Benny was back. "Higgins."

That was my only name here. The Feed had stripped me of both my identity and dignity.

"Yes sir?"

"There was an old lady who complained that you didn't bag her ice cream the right way. It was gonna be all melted when she got home. Step over to that empty register when you're done here and I'll show you how to do it right."

"I know how to do it right," I responded.

Benny gritted his teeth."Step over, to that empty register, over there, when you are done here, and I will show you, how to do it right. Don't argue with me."

I wanted to grab him by his brown Frodo curls and slam his face through the conveyer belt. But I kept my cool, and I complied with the humiliating order.

Melanie had ignored the debacle, just as she ignored everything else unless it captured her attention. I envied her. She stayed as busy as the rest of us, but her job kept her out of the hellfire.

Later, Benny smelled blood when I bagged another ice cream order. He ran over and brought Mr. McKelvey with him.

"Watch the way he does it," Benny insisted.

My ice cream bagging became a show for the boss, the real boss. McKelvey was the Store Operator, a no-nonsense figure. Unlike Benny and Melanie, he was capable of showing a lighter side.

"Now that's some good bagging," he remarked. "That's the best bagging I've seen in a long time. Good job, son."

I grinned an unassuming smile. "Thank you."

I glanced at Benny's disappointed face. Score one for me.

During my break, I used some of my tip money to buy refrigerated hot dogs and heated them in the break room. The only other person there was Frank, a fellow bagger with whom I'd become friends with over the last three months.

"I heard Benny was giving you a hard time today," he said.

"You heard right," I responded before taking a bite of lukewarm chili dog.

"You shoulda seen him last night at Good Times. Me and some friends were out there. Damn."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah." Frank chuckled and pushed his glasses back up his nose. "Drunk off his ass."

"No shit, seriously?"

"Seriously. We thought he was gonna get thrown out."

I shook my head and smiled. "I wish I could have videoed that."

At 4:30, the crowds hadn't let up.

"Higgins, I need you to do me a favor," Mr. McKelvey asked.

"Yes sir?"

"The ice bins are getting low. Could you go in the freezer and fetch some bags to dump in there?"

"Sure."

The bags were heavy and cold to the touch. I did as told, dumping the ice into the containers. Unfortunately, one wayward piece was poking out of the thin plastic and did a scalpel stab into my skin. Blood trickled down my hand and arm, but I finished dumping the ice before visiting the office. Melanie sat in her seat, emotionless, endorsing a check.

"Melanie?"

"Hmm?"

I was standing on the top of a two-step climb and peering over a short, closed door. "Can I get a band-aid?"

"Oh wow," she said. "Come on up."

I stepped into the office, and then stood there feeling like an intruder while Melanie rummaged through a drawer.

"Wipe it with some paper towels," she instructed. I did.

"Hold out your hand."

My hand trembled as Melanie criss-crossed two band-aids over the wound.

"Blood doesn't bother you?" I asked.

"I'm studying to be a nurse," Melanie replied, returning to her usual work. "Blood can't bother me."

"Really? I had no idea."

Melanie scoffed. "Yeah. You think I wanna work here forever?"

"I guess not," I smiled.

Silence.

"Okay, you can go back to work now!" Melanie snapped, shooing me out of her bubble. It occurred to me that this was the longest conversation I'd ever had with her. It was progress.

5:00 came. 5:30. 6:00. The sun dwindled as it fell in the west. Darkness settled in. Word traveled that the other baggers and I had a Saturday morning meeting, which was disappointing news; Saturday was always my day off before the Sunday grind.

Melanie sat on her perch, her one emotion never wavering.

****

The meeting was set for 8:00 AM and I arrived a few minutes early, dressed in a t-shirt and jeans.

It didn't last long, fortunately. Aside from McKelvey and the other managers, the gathering included only the baggers. McKelvey demonstrated how to properly bag groceries, and then reminded us not to mix cleaning supplies with food. He ended the meeting by saying, "remember, the customers are the most important people here. Without customers, we wouldn't have a business. Make sure you're kind and courteous at all times. Meeting adjourned."

The group broke apart. I headed out of the back room and away from the store at a quick pace, not wanting to waste any more of my Saturday. The sooner I was back in my room at my parents' house, the better.

I was in too much of a hurry because half a mile from the parking lot I realized my cellphone was missing.

Shit! I must have left it in the break room!

At least I hoped. If it fell too hard out of my pocket or some dishonest fellow discovered it, the phone would be gone forever. I made a U-turn.

When I bumped up the small entrance ramp that connected the street to the parking lot, something caught my attention. Melanie's bumper was in front of me. I wasn't familiar with her work schedule; since she worked every day that I did, seeing her car wasn't a big deal.

The strange part was that instead of stopping behind the blue line like all employees were required, she kept going. Her Eclipse went around the side of the building. Why would Melanie park by the loading area? The delivery trucks would have long since made their stops but no one was ever permitted to drive back there.

It wasn't my business. I just wanted my phone back. Melanie wasn't in the office. No matter. I was relieved to find my phone where I'd left it. Then I had to pee just the right moment. Perhaps, in retrospect, it was the wrong one.

After finishing up, I found the the storeroom's silence to be eerie. The towering palettes reminded me of an abandoned city. Several flattened boxes lay in front of the baler. A pallet jack was parked and empty. An overhead florescent lighter flickered, the tubes long into their twilight years. The break room was barren save for trash and ketchup packets littering the table.

I noticed a door built into the far wall. A stack of wrapped paper towels was tilted to the side, allowing narrow access. I shrugged it off as a restricted area I wasn't allowed to plunder.

Then I heard a faint groan, followed by a sharper grunt. The noises drew me in that direction. A voice from behind kept me moving. It sounded like "oh, fuck."

Another moan. Female? My pace quickened. My worn out work shoes squeaked on the concrete floor. I squeezed through the narrow space between the stack and the door, and without thinking, gripped the handle. It gave when I twisted it. I pushed the door outward a crack.

Melanie's t-shirt and bra were pushed up past her breasts, which were humble but appeared slightly larger by her being on all fours. Small pink nipples barely rose from them. Her hair was an undone, tangled mess. Her face was flushed red. The rest of her clothing had been haphazardly discarded; her jeans were several feet from a pair of panties.

She moaned with every inward thrust Frank made. His khakis and boxers were around his ankles, his glasses set aside. He steadied himself by keeping both hands on Melanie's pale, bare ass. She might have made more noise if it weren't for the hard cock working in and out of her mouth, attached to none other than Benny.

Aside from pushing outward to heighten her stimulation, Melanie acted more like a stationary object than an active participant. Rather than sucking, kissing and licking Benny like the blowjobs I'd watched in porn, she was just letting Benny fuck her open mouth.

To her right was Mr. McKelvey, his work pants also down. Melanie squeezed his middle-aged prick in her hand. When she stopped jerking to hock spit for lube, I saw that McKelvey had the virility and hardness of someone much younger.

Frank's pace quickened. "Oh, oh shit. Gonna, gonna

cum

, Melanie."

Melanie plopped Benny's cock out of her mouth long enough to say, "do it in me."

Frank gripped her hips tighter, buried himself inside her to the hilt, threw his head back and let loose with a guttural moan. He stayed in place before reluctantly withdrawing. His softening cock slapped an ass cheek, leaving a glob of cum.

I didn't want to know Frank this way, or McKelvey and especially Benny, but my eyes were nevertheless fixated on the show.

Benny grunted "my turn."

Melanie shook her head. "Mm-mm." She removed his prick. "You were shitty to me yesterday. Mr. McKelvey goes next."

A grinning McKelvey positioned himself behind Melanie and guided in his cock. "Y'see, Ben? That's what a little courtesy gets you."

Melanie whipped around. "Um, Mister McKelvey, that's my

asshole

?"

"Oop! Sorry. Heh."

I was now baffled on more than one level. Melanie's protest was stern, assertive, and laden with attitude. McKelvey was not a man to be talked backed to under any circumstances, yet he was laughing along with everyone else, including Melanie.

It was the first time I'd ever seen her smile. I never imagined witnessing it while a prick fucked her mouth. McKelvey plunged into the correct hole. Melanie matched his rhythm. Frank hurried to Melanie's left side. She grasped his limp member, using the mess of her juices and his cum to jerk him back to full-mast.

The furthest I'd ever gotten was cunnilingus during college, and I recognized the intoxicating scent that lingered. It filled my nostrils and swelled my own prick. Melanie's stifled moans got louder and louder as she was fucked hard from both ends. She squeezed her eyes shut as an orgasm overtook her.

"That's right," McKelvey beckoned, "cum all over that cock."

My own erection pushed at my jeans. I was tempted to join in, but reason held me back. If this was a private affair then I'd be in serious trouble. Beyond that, I wasn't sure I was ready to fuck a girl in front of men I worked for and alongside.

"Oh, oh no," Frank uttered. Melanie didn't stop her furious stroking even as jets of jizz struck her upper back. The same hand that had applied my band-aids was now covered in pearly streaks.

"Melanie, Melanie I'm gonna, gonna do it," Benny said hoarsely.

"Mmmngh," was Melanie's response.

"So, goddamned, tight," Mister McKelvey groaned. "So, goddamned..."

Benny and McKelvey cried out in unison. Benny's mind drifted to another plane. McKelvey looked like he was having cardiac arrest. They both brought their fucking to a gradual stop and then Melanie gulped Benny's load. She made a smaller noise; cum escaped her lips and dribbled down her chin.

McKelvey pulled out. Seminal fluids flowed from Melanie's gaping hole, running out of a vessel too full to maintain the loads blown into it. She was an artist's rendering of fucked, with cum spattering her face, back and thighs. Benny rubbed his dribbling prick against her cheeks, making a bigger mess. Her innocent look was still visible beneath her sloppy mask.

Then she turned...in my direction. My heart jumped. There was no mistake: she was staring directly at me as she lapped cum. Her eyes narrowed, and though I was a lifelong virgin I knew what that look meant, as if she were communicating via telepathy:

Bet you wish it was you.

My breaking point reached, I made a quick exit. I was rock hard, flushed, sweating, and out of breath. Then I was in my car, peeling away, with the air conditioner cranked to full and the radio at a dangerous volume.

I was still breathless when I arrived home. I dashed through the front door and had no response to my mom's "how was the meeting?" beyond "fine." I rushed to my bedroom and shut the door behind me.

I'd planned on a peaceful Saturday. Instead I spent the rest of it reflecting on what I couldn't have just seen.

****

Sunday arrived too fast. The shift was from 9 AM to 1 PM. I weighed my options. As a part-time employee I had no paid sick leave or vacation time. Calling in would mean losing a good deal of what little money I earned, and sooner or later I'd have to return and face all the people I'd caught.

Work would be awkward, but I had no choice. I just prayed that Melanie, Benny, Frank and McKelvey wouldn't be there today. It would help me break everything down in my mind.

That was denied me when I walked in. A police officer was in the office with McKelvey, Melanie and Benny. When I asked Frank what was happening, he told me the security camera had caught someone stealing.

I worked by Frank all day—the same Frank I'd seen blowing loads in and all over Melanie. I spent most of my shift being quiet. I didn't speak unless spoken to and did my job carefully, lest I alert Benny, the one man I'd been especially averse to seeing naked. I didn't want him anywhere near me. It was still the first of the month, and business remained hectic. I coped by focusing on my work.

"Working hard today, Higgins."

McKelvey's voice made me jump. I continued bagging, trying to avoid eye contact.

"Yes sir."

I looked up at the office. Melanie's expression was the same as always. I tried to avoid staring, but my eyes kept wandering.

There was a huge difference between a seeing porn model on a DVD or in a magazine and witnessing the most intimate, private details of a person I knew. Confused and baffled as I was, remembering what was under Melanie's work clothes was turning me on.

Melanie met my gaze and threw up her hands in a "what!?" gesture. Suddenly I was at the office door. Melanie made her 'I hope this annoying person goes away soon' face.

"Hey, Melanie."

"Hey?"

"I just, I just wanted to say..."

Whatever Melanie was working on was more important than me. But what did I want to say? That I'd spied on her? That I was confused, embarrassed, bewildered, and incredibly aroused?

"What is it?" Melanie asked, breaking me out of my stupor.

"I, I just wanted to say, um, thanks."

"Thanks for what? I'm kinda busy?"

"For the bandage the other day. That was, really, nice of you."

"Mmhm."

I sighed. After what I'd peeked in on she was acting so casual, so...Melanie. Maybe it had been a dream.

"Higgins!" Benny barked. "You got some work to do? Go be lazy on your own time."

"Yeah."

"Yeah? Yeah, what?"

"Yes, sir," I conceded.

"That's what I thought," he said.

Standing next to Benny meant remembering what his genitals looked like, and that was motivation enough to move on. I hated him so much that if I were forced to look, I'd take McKelvey or Frank over him any day.

I peeked over my shoulder as I walked back toward the registers. Benny had his arms crossed and was angrily shaking his head.

I bagged more groceries, trying to pretend I wasn't watching. Melanie grinned and whispered something in Benny's ear. His eyes widened, his jaw fell and he shot me an incredulous glance. Melanie giggled before returning to her Default Mode.

What did she tell him? Did he know? Did that mean it happened?

At least the store was busy. There were enough shopping carts, customers and carry outs to keep me from repeating the guessing cycle. Whenever a customer delayed me with checks or food stamps, I distracted myself by studying their penmanship.