My first real job was at one of the area food-chain stores, located in a neighboring town. I was seventeen when I started, bagging and picking up stray carts in the parking lot. I wasn't all that enthused about having to work, but if wanted to get my own car I was going to have to buy it. I stuck it out for four long, wet months, hoping to work at a cash register when I turned eighteen so that I could make more money. I was told that it had something to do about a state law. The day after my birthday I told my supervisor the good news. Well, I guess good news traveled slowly in this store because it was a few more months before I got a chance to work at one of the registers. I finally got the word that he was supposed to train me, but that never happened. Instead he had his best cashier Sally teach me.
I learned that Sally had been at the store for quite a few years. She was forty years old and had lived quite an interesting life by anyone's standards. She was married at seventeen, pregnant at eighteen, divorced at nineteen. She danced and tended bar at a strip-joint further out in the valley for five years after that, but quit, saying that the drive back home was too far after a long, long night. That was when she started to work at the store. Oh yes…two more things. She became a mother-in-law at thirty-five and a grandmother when she was thirty-six. Sounds familiar, doesn't it. Anyways, Sally was the stick that stirred the drink at this store. She was always joking with customers and workers, helping to make the eight-hour days go by as fast as they could. I guess her bar-tending qualities followed her to the local grocery.
She was also a little "crude", if that's the right word. She was sort of rough around the edges, not displaying a polished image that most women try unsuccessfully to exhibit. She drank, she swore, she smoked…she did what she felt like doing. If you didn't like it, well, you could always leave. Very few people did. She had the ability to somehow know how to act around whomever she was with, never really offending anyone. I was happy when I found out that she would be the one to train me. I had heard that she was smart and patient; always there when you needed her. I have to admit that I was also glad to know that she would train me because Sally really wasn't that bad looking for a shorthaired, bleached-blond, forty year-old. Maybe she wore her make-up a little too heavy on some days, but her deep green eyes far outweighed the sluttish appearance that excessive, Cover Girl product-use could typify. And besides, when she wore a skirt, no one bothered to look very much further. Sally had a pair of legs that were supposed to be seen and admired. I guess that dancing on top of a runway in spiked heels could take the place of any exercise machine on the market today. She pushed the dress code for employees to the limits, wearing skirts as short as they would allow. A few times I saw the manager come over and say something in her ear, followed by her tugging her skirt down. As soon as he left, she would yank at the waistband and pull her skirt up higher than where it had originally been.
In order to teach someone, the instructor needed to be with the trainee when working the register for the first week. As I'm sure you know, space is at a premium behind a food-store cash register. I found out quickly that that was another reason to be happy having Sally as your teacher. For a solid week I don't think that my cock stayed soft for more than twenty minutes each day. I had to wait until I got home so I could take a piss. Our bodies were always bumping, rubbing, or pressing into each other. It got to the point where apologies stopped and I accepted the inevitable. I especially enjoyed the times when she had to lean over my shoulder to see something. She would stand on her tiptoes and press her body against mine. Her left hand would usually hold my left hip firmly and her crotch would rest comfortably on my right, her tits flattening out on my back. Her warm breath would float gently over my neck with her perfume filling my nose. If she was getting a kick out of exciting a young boy, she didn't let on. She carried on as if everything that happened was normal. She was doing what had to be done.
I admit that I was sorry to see my week with Sally end, but it was apparent that I knew what I was doing. The manager had Sally resume her normal schedule, which allowed my cock to resume its normal shape too. It's not like Sally and I developed any kind of friendship either, but I felt more accepted by her and everyone else at the store. Once in a while Sally and I would be at neighboring registers, and conversations would be brief, comfortable and fun. I especially liked it when I was on her right side, affording me a great view of those legs. I also learned to appreciate the shape of her ass. Besides being short, those skirts were tight. A few weeks went by, spring heading towards summer as the Fourth of July holiday approached. Everyone was scheduled to work the night before the holiday until the store closed at ten. Even though there were just a few customers coming in that night, we all had to stay. I was lucky enough to be on Sally's right, so I didn't mind one bit. She wore a looser fitting skirt that night, but it was still as short as the others. A little while before quitting time, Sally left her register and leaned over my register's belt to talk to me. For some reason, I felt that something different was happening because of the way she smiled.
"So Bud," she said cheerfully, "whatcha' doin' after work?"
Bud's not my name, but everyone calls me that. Also, it sounds a lot better than the one my parents branded me with…Harold. I apologize to anyone who has or likes that name. I just don't.
"I guess I'm goin' home Sally," I replied, noticing that she had seemingly put her makeup on just right tonight. "Why?"
"Well," she continued, "a few us are goin' to hang around in the parking lot after work and have a few beers. Sort of start the holiday off early. Why don't you join us? Get to know some of the guys better."
I'd seen them do this a few times before as I left work late, but I'd never been asked to join in. I was too young to drink, so I figured that was why I wasn't invited.
"Gosh," I said hesitantly. "I don't know. I'm only eighteen and…"
"Oh come on Bud," she said with a bit of excitement in her voice. "We do this all the time. Management doesn't mind as long as we don't leave a mess. Gets the holidays started right, ya' know. Besides, who cares how old you are. If you don't want to drink you don't have to. And if you do, nobody's gonna' say anything. Come on. You'll have fun. Meet me at the time clock at quitting time. I'll take care of ya' real good tonight."
She put a bit more emphasis on the words "real good" but at the time I didn't pay that much attention to the weight of her spoken words.
"Okay," I said with a strained smile. "I'll come."
"Great," she said with a wide smile. "I guarantee we'll have a good time."
More enunciation on the word "guarantee."
Sally seemed to be much happier following my decision to join them after work. She worked at a faster pace, as if she wanted all of the customers to be gone way before the store closed. She continuously turned and smiled at me, even coming over to bag for me when she had free time. Watching her work took my mind off of the clock, and in no time the store was preparing to close. She was waiting for me at the time clock, probably not trusting me that I would still join them. If I had had any doubts, Sally quickly would have changed my mind. She smiled widely and grabbed me by the arm.
"All set Bud?" she asked, anticipating something I couldn't see.
