Hass gazed at the dark chocolate in front of him happily.
A month had passed since Doris began to work for him, and he couldn't get enough of her. Black girls had always been his lifeblood, and Doris was one for the ages. She came from a Christian home, adopted and raised by white parents; a supposedly good student and serious award-winning swimmer. Looking at her bubbly ass swaying as she counter at the register, he could see it.
Hass had known her father a long time. The guy used to come into Hass' shop as a kid all the time, always trying to beg his way into doing a chore for some sweets. So when he came in whining about how his daughter was an antisocial wreck, too shy to do anything, Hass suggested he let her work in the candy shop with him. After all, he was getting old and could use some help; and what better way to get comfortable with people than to work as a salesman?
The guy had been charmed by the idea and brought Doris in the next day, presenting the curvy eighteen-year-old before Hass, remarking on her beauty without the slightest idea of what he was getting her involved in.
"I told her there's no reason to be shy," her father said eagerly. "A girl as pretty as her - why, folks will be delighted to talk to her if she only smiled and chatted them up a little."
Hass was delighted just to see her. Even in the austere clothes she had on, he happily noticed her wide hips and busty chest, and nearly drooled at the thought of claiming them as his own and breaking them in for the first time. Virgins were always the sweetest, no matter what people said. And the darkest chocolate tasted best to Hass, always.
"Well then, I'll leave you. Good luck, sweetie."
When he was gone Hass approached the girl kindly. "I know it's hard to be dropped off here all alone. Hell, I told your old man I don't want to put you on the spot. I was shy too when I was your age. But tell you what kiddo," he said, taking her hand in his own. She winced and kept looking away, but the warmth of her hand, along with its silky skin, only made Hass want her. "I won't make you do anything, unless you feel comfortable. If not, you can just sit by my side and watch. How does that sound?"
Her full, yet dry and cracked lips, opened hesitantly with a pop. "I don't know. Dad wouldn't be happy."
"He doesn't have to know, does he? It'll just be between you and me. Come on." He gave her hand a final squeeze, then let go and started giving her a tour of the shop.
What her pop said was not an exaggeration in any way. Doris said next to nothing, and the times she did talk, it was only to respond with a clear "Yes, sir," or "No, sir" and nothing else. It would be hard to get under her skin, but Hass wasn't worried. He had never failed, after all.
The first two days Doris just sat there, almost like a doll, looking around with disinterest. She even pull out her phone or bring a book or another. Far too rude for her. But on the third day, after endless questions, Hass had gotten the hang of her, and was starting to make progress. When he broached the topic of a boyfriend he noticed that she had stiffened visibly, and he wanted to get to the bottom of the matter.
"Don't you ever wish you had a boyfriend, sweetheart?"
Doris shook her head. "I don't know, sir."
"Or maybe you have one already and you're not telling anyone." Doris winced. "You know you can tell me. I won't tell anyone. It must be hard to keep a secret all by yourself."
In the end Doris broke, and told the whole story. She had met a boy from France, and talked to him on a regular basis. He was in the exact same situation as she was: black, but adopted by white parents.
"You must love him a lot," said Hass with a warm smile.
Doris, starting to get comfortable around him, smiled back. "I think so too. But I couldn't tell Dad. Not even Mom. Dad would be mad no matter what, but Mom would be mad I kept it a secret for so long."
Hass went over and put a hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him with big wet eyes, framed by black curls that ended below her chin. And those lips, Christ, those lips. They were halfway open now, her shadowy front teeth showing, and all he wanted was to stick his finger inside and let her suck.
"Your secret is safe with me, baby." Hass had gone out of his way to call her by all sort of pet names. It seemed innocuous coming from a man more than thrice her age, but it would have a subconscious effect on her by the end.
Doris smiled again. "Thank you. I never told anyone, and - they'd kill me."
His gnarled white hand squeezed her shoulder. "I wouldn't let them. I'm starting to like you too much."
"You aren't as bad as I thought either," she blurted. She was aware of the faux pas and quickly said: "I mean, I didn't-"
"Calm down, sweetie. I understand."
And from there on things got a lot easier. Doris started telling him all about her life, and confessed to all kinds of secrets - not only of her own, but regarding her family as well. She explained how she was home alone once, looking for tampons in her mother's bedroom, when she accidentally came upon a ballgag.
"I was so shocked," said Doris, giggling nervously. "I never thought Mom would be into that - ever!"
Hass started touching her more and more as they talked. Sometimes he was afraid he went overboard, but in fact, Doris only started touching him back after a time, pushing him jokingly and fingering his chest to make a point.
Then one day she herself asked if she could try to serve at the counter. Unsurprisingly, she did rather well; the older customers were curious who the new face was, and were thrilled with her, while the younger boys all complimented her and had a bad time flirting with a girl twice as awkward as they were.
"I'm proud of you," he said to her near the end of her first day serving, putting his arm around her shoulder.
Doris beamed, raising her hands to her face. "I can't believe I did it. I really did it."
"You really did. Good girl."
The day after that he explained to her that he had to go to the hospital for an hour or two, and was wondering if she could keep the shop open. If not, the both of them could take a break.
"No, no, I can..." said Doris, a little hesitantly. But it was clear she didn't want to let him down.
Hass wished her luck and went out, then headed in search of Cassidy.
Cassidy was the closest thing he had ever had to friend or a relationship, and he had practically raised her into the person she had become. Well,
she
was a big word. Cassidy had been born as a boy, but her progressive-thinking parents decided early on it was better she get a hormonal treatment and transition early.
They weren't wrong about her passion for cock, at least. But they were wrong in thinking she wanted to be girly. If anything, Cassidy was a total tomboy, though the years of treatment had done their job in giving her a completely feminine look. At first glance, she was just another pretty girl.
