Retail Therapy 3

The moment the ball came off the racket, Denise Ford knew it was a winner. Into the back court and past her opponents forearm, the ball bounced into the fence bordering the courts. "Some sore back!" Elsie Robbins remarked as she bent over to pick up the tennis ball.

Denise watched her friend bend forward, her skirt rising up to reveal her white panties. Oh God stop it Denise, she told herself. You're so horny you're ogling women now!? She waited at the net for Elsie to approach and the women leaned into one another and kissed on the cheek.

"It loosens up with activity," Denise explained her recovery.

"Another game?" Elise asked as they headed to the sidelines.

Denise took a long drink from her bottle before shaking her head. "Sorry Hon. I have to go into the shop."

Elsie wiped sweat from her chest and again the older woman noticed the alluring display before diverting her eyes and picking up her bag. You're becoming a lech! Denise told herself, her eyes travelling back to her friend. "Shower?"

The tennis club offered single cubicles but deep in conversation the women entered the group showers together. "I thought you had help on Saturdays?" Elsie asked, adjusting the water temperature to her satisfaction.

"I did!" Denise replied, enjoying the feeling as the high pressure shower head sprayed her lower back. "Krystal has moved on to greener pastures. It's a blessing really, she was lovely but dumber than a box of hammers."

"Greener pastures you say?" Elise asked, soaping her breasts and unabashed ran a hand between her legs.

Denise averted her eyes; her own sex responding to the display. Okay enough she again reprimanded herself and turned her back to the other woman. "Yes," she replied, rinsing her hair. "Found herself a sugar daddy and moved to the Hills."

"Oh to be young again," Elsie complained.

Reaching for her soap, Denise's back pain reared again causing her to wince. Elsie noticed the other woman's discomfort and moved closer. "Where does it hurt?" Elsie asked, pressing her soapy hands on her friends lower back.

To Denise the contact was a surprise but not totally unexpected with Elsie's background as a massage therapist. The fact it was occurring as they were both totally naked and sharing a shower was admittedly out of the ordinary however and led her mind back to a previous life.

"Ooh," Denise moaned as Elsie's thumbs dug into her flesh. "Just a little lower."

Elise's fingers pressed into the area of spine above Denise's buttocks, the soap acting as a massage oil. For Denise the sensation was nothing short of pleasurable and when Elsie stopped she discovered she was wet and not from the shower. You've been too long without a man Denise, she told herself.

"Hmm," Elsie contemplated. "It's lower lumbar, possibly your sacrum. Could even be deferred pain from your hip Denise. We're of the age you know."

Denise didn't need the reminder, her 60th birthday having just passed. She turned to face Elsie again. "You make it sound so serious," she said. "I thought it was just a sore back."

"You can never be too sure," Elsie replied. "Go and see my doctor. Wesley Fuller. He's very good and dare I say it, pleasing to the eye."

Denise smiled, shaking her head. "Oh Elsie, you're as bad as me. Remember you're married."

"Oh don't remind me," Elsie laughed. "Actually that makes me think. Are you putting someone else on?"

"At the shop?" Denise asked.

"Uh huh."

"Well I'll have to," Denise replied soaping her legs. Her hand slid along her inner thigh and made contact with her vagina. My God I am wet! She smiled to herself. "It's doing well right now and I don't want to be there all hours myself. I'm not looking forward to interviewing though."

"What about Jackson?" Elsie proposed.

"Your son? He's still at school," Denise countered.

"No he's eighteen now. He's done and it seems, devoting his life to playing computer games," Elsie admitted. "Don't get me wrong Denise. He's a good boy. I just need him out of the house."

"Eighteen!" Denise replied. "My God they grow up quick."

"I'm not asking for special consideration Hon, if it doesn't work out you can let him go," Elsie reassured her. "It won't affect our friendship."

Denise was glad Elsie had brought it up. Going into a business partnership with an acquaintance was a sure way of dooming that friendship she'd learnt, the awareness of Elsie was heartening. Denise didn't have to think over the offer long. "You know what, send him in this afternoon. I'll give him a tryout and if he stacks up, he's got the job."

Elsie turned off her shower and clutched Denise's hand. "Thank you Darl. You'll love him, I promise."

"I'm sure I will," Denise smiled.

* * * * *

Elsie opened her son's door without knocking and entered. For an instant she regretted the action as her mind ran through what he may've been doing in private but she was just so excited to tell him the news. Thankfully he was playing a game and she quickly dispelled her inappropriate thoughts.

"Mom, can you knock? Please!" Jackson yelled.

"Yes, sorry. I just wanted to tell you the news."

Jackson paused his game as his mother took a seat beside him on the bed.

"You know I was playing tennis with my friend Denise this morning?" Elsie continued as Jackson looked back blankly. "Well she owns a thrift shop and is looking to hire someone to help out. I got you a job!"

"Oh," Jackson replied without the excitement his mother was hoping for.

"What? Isn't that good?" Elsie asked.

"Um yeah, I guess," Jackson managed. "What would I do?"

"Well I don't know. Whatever you do in a shop, sell stuff," Elsie explained. "You just have to go in this afternoon and introduce yourself. She's lovely, you'll really like her I promise."

"Okay, cool," Jackson replied. "I guess."

"You guess?" Elsie questioned.

"Well, what do I wear? I've never even had a job interview before."

"Oh don't be nervous. She's really casual. Just wear your normal clothes," his mother assured him. "She'll like you as well, trust me!"

Jackson moved to the edge of the bed and seemed to be contemplating the situation. "Okay, I'll do it."

Elsie was aware that was probably going to be the limit of her son's excitement and left it at that.

"Oh by the way," she added as she left his room. "She used to be in the movies."

* * * * *

Denise did up the last of the buttons on the front of her white shirt and looked in the mirror. She was pleased with the reflection looking back; her tan pants tight on her still shapely legs; her breasts pressing out the crisp white shirt. Her eyes strayed to the movie poster behind her and she shook her head smiling as she looked back at her own feet. Maybe the boots were too much, she thought as she walked back to her walk-in to change.

The framed limited edition poster for 'Helga, Princess of the Reich' depicted her in 1978. Dressed as a Nazi camp commandant in riding pants, long boots with leather crop in hand. In her wardrobe she chose a pair of flats and after swapping them for the boots, left her room with a quick wink at her portrait.

* * * * *

Jackson drove to the store and parked in a lot behind the shopping strip. Ten minutes early he took out his phone and looked up Denise Ford in an online database. No matches, he assumed his mother had lied to him and began to slowly walk towards the shop.

His mother having mentioned it was a second hand store, Jackson was expecting a flea bitten hovel. What he found was a classy storefront with just as classy customers. In fact if he hadn't been told it was a thrift shop he would never have assumed.

The woman behind the counter was in conversation with a customer and Jackson browsed the books on display until she was finished. He glanced at her as he tried to look casual. His mother had mentioned she was older than her but from the distance he stood he couldn't discern it. What he saw was a striking mature woman. Her hair was a dark brown and she'd tied it back in a loose pony tail. The white shirt she wore was exceptionally tight around her boobs and Jackson could feel himself blush when her eyes passed over him in her conversation.

Inching closer to the counter as he noticed the customer begin to pay for a item, Jackson was shocked at how nervous he was becoming, his heart beginning to race in his chest.

"Thank you, see you again," the woman farewelled the customer and turned her eyes on Jackson.

Before he could speak, Denise smiled and greeted him. "And you must be Jackson!"

He was taken aback at her pronouncement. "I..how did you know?"

She smiled and walked around the counter to greet him formally. "Your mother didn't tell you I'm psychic? I can read everything you're thinking." Jackson's jaw dropped slightly and Denise laughed at his disposition. "Oh I'm joking, she's shown me your photos over the years," she explained. "I've actually watched you grow up! Don't worry, I can't read your thoughts...Or can I?" She laughed, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh," Jackson replied, now completely blushing and quickly wiping his sweaty palm on his jeans before shaking the woman's hand. Now closer he could see her age, yet it didn't detract from her beauty. In fact, he thought, she was hot!

"Now I don't know what your mother has told you, but the pay is $25 an hour and that'll be after a trial period okay?"

To Jackson it sounded great. Especially compared to the nothing he was currently on! "No that's cool. And Mom said you can quote 'sack my ass' if I get out of line!"

Denise laughed and Jackson liked the dimples that formed in her cheeks when she did so. He admired the lines that appeared beside her eyes. He especially loved the beauty spot on her top lip. It looked like something a movie star would have and he wondered if his mother hadn't been lying to him after all.

"Well hopefully it won't come to that!" She smiled and motioned him to follow her further into the store. "So you've seen the register, the books," she gestured to one side of the shop. "This is obviously the clothing section. More women's than men's I'm afraid. Men seem to hold onto their clothes longer I've found. That or they wear them to death." She cast her eye's onto him. "I'm sure you're guilty of wearing underpants until they're full of holes!"

The joke caused Jackson to blush further and it delighted Denise. My God he's so young she thought. His eyes were so like his mother's and had adopted her attractive features. She all of a sudden wondered if he had inherited her healing hands as well but quickly tried to put the thought out of her mind. "The fitting rooms," she casually swept a hand to the left. "Household goods, as you can see; furniture," she stated, running her hand over the back of an antique couch. "Vases and such; jewellery you probably saw back at the counter and back here we have dvd's and music." Completing the tour of the store they stood facing each other. "We don't sell many dvd's and cd's anymore, take up more space than they're worth. At least they're not vhs though am I right?"

The blank look on Jackson's face showed her he had no idea what she was talking about and she shook her head smiling. "Vhs? No? Cassette tapes?"

Jackson shook his head before his face lit up. "Oh I saw a Sony Walkman at the museum once. They had a special show on!" He offered and Denise felt every one of her sixty years.

Closing the shop for ten minutes, Denise continued the tour into the back area. A sorting room for going through donations, the kitchenette and a small bathroom with attached laundry facilities. For washing the clothing donated, Denise explained.

"So how long have you been doing this Ms. Ford?" Jackson asked as Denise poured out a cup of tea for each of them.

"You have to call me Denise or you simply can't work here I'm afraid," she smiled as she passed the steaming mug to the boy. "Be careful, it's hot. Um how long? Let me see, I moved back to the U.S. in '98, then L.A. in 2003, nearly fifteen years."

"Wow, I would've been three when you started," Jackson stated.

"Oh Jackson," Denise laughed."You really know how to make me feel my age."

"Oh I'm sorry," he quickly apologised. "I didn't mean it that way, I..."

"No, no, no sweetheart, I was just joking," Denise reassured him. He was blushing again and she loved the way he wore his heart on his sleeve. Such a sensitive boy, she thought. "How's your tea?"

Jackson blew across the top and took another sip. He'd never had a cup of tea in his life but hadn't mentioned it when she'd offered. Now that he tasted it, he was surprised how much he enjoyed it. Or was it, he wondered, because it was her who provided it?

"Beautiful," Jackson complimented her and as she turned to put the tea box back in the cupboard he could have been describing her ass. The pants she wore clasped her buttocks like skin and being flesh colored gave the impression she was indeed, naked. Reaching up, her shirt untucked above her black belt and allowed Jackson to see an inch of flesh on her hip. He was thankful his legs were hidden beneath the table as nothing less would obscure the erection that grew in his pants.

* * * * *

The afternoon passed quickly. Too quickly for Jackson. By five o'clock and the doors locked he'd mastered the register and credit card system; interacted well with the customers and learned to make Denise her tea just they way she liked it. Jackson turned off the lights for the shop and the front window and joined Denise in the rear of the store as she counted the takings. "So if all your stock is from donations, that means you must make a pretty good profit," Jackson noted as he leaned against the table.

"I don't make any profit!" Denise replied, looking over the top of her horn rimmed glasses. She saw the confusion in Jackson's face and went on. "Well, I do but I donate everything after costs to charity."

Again Jackson looked perplexed. "Then how do you live? How do you pay your rent?"

Denise leaned back in her chair and took off her glasses. "Didn't Elsie tell you about me?" She asked.

Jackson shrugged his shoulders. "She made up some story you were in the movies," he admitted. "I think she said it so I'd come along."

"No, it's true," Denise began, herself beginning to blush and surprised at her reaction. "A long time ago. With what I earned I made some investments and thankfully they paid off. I do this to keep busy. It's not about the money."

"Oh okay," Jackson replied wondering why her name wasn't online. "So what charities do you donate to?" He asked, sitting down opposite the older woman.

"Are you really interested?" She smiled, looking into his eyes skeptically.

Jackson nodded his head enthusiastically and to Denise it looked genuine. Surprising, she thought. Krystal hadn't asked once in the whole time she'd been with her.

"Oh animal charities mainly. Lost dogs and cats homes. Endangered species that kind of thing. I love animals," she added.

"Me too," Jackson quickly stated. "They're so much better than people!"

Denise placed down her glasses and smiled at the boy. "Aren't they though! Jackson. I think we're going to make a pretty good team."

"Does that mean I got the job?" Jackson coyly asked.

"It's yours if you want it," she smiled and held out her hand.

Jackson took it and shook and this time his palm wasn't sweaty. "So what time tomorrow?"

Denise laughed. "Oh I don't open on Sundays." She rose from the seat and reached for a calendar on a pin board. Jackson used the opportunity to admire her ass another time. He couldn't see a panty-line and envisioned what her bottom would look like in a thong.

Denise took the calendar from the wall and placed it down in front of Jackson. Leaning down beside him she pointed at the time and days highlighted for Krystal's shifts. Jackson was aware how close her breast was to his shoulder. He could smell her perfume, hear her breathing.

"I was hoping you could just take over Krystal's shifts," she proposed. "Have a look at the times and let me know if there are any problems."

From his peripheral vision he could see how she stood, her legs together bent at the hip. If he turned his head there was the possibility he would see down her top and the thought clouded his mind. "Yeah I can do them all!" He proudly stated and Denise turned her head to face him.

Their faces only inches apart, they looked in each others eyes. Jackson noted how little makeup she wore and yet how beautiful she remained. Denise marvelled at how long his eyelashes were, how green his eyes. Eyes she could look at for hours, look up at her from between her legs. She then noticed the lack of facial hair, the boyish chin. My God Denise, he's only a child she told herself and stood back up. Her body didn't play along and the pain was sudden and severe. "Ooh," she gasped and clutched her lower back with both hands. Was it a sign, she thought? A punishment for thinking such impure thoughts.

Jackson rose from his seat, concerned for her. "Are you alright?"

Denise smiled and dismissed her suffering with a wave of the hand. "I'm okay Jackson, just my back. It comes and goes."

"You should see a doctor," he offered and was glad to see her smile.

"That's what your mother says!" She thought of Elsie's hands on her in the shower, the same care shown now by her son. Would he massage my back in the shower as well? She imagined. The pain subsiding she allowed her eyes to trail across his body. No, she thought; he was no child. The chest, arms and legs of an athlete and oh my goodness, she noted. The well packed fly of an obviously semi-erect man.

* * * * *

As fate had it, Jackson had parked close to Denise and they walked together in the setting evening light. "I just realized we don't have each others numbers," Denise stated.

"Oh yeah. Do you have Kik, WhatsApp?" Jackson asked.

"What's that?" Denise replied looking confused.

Jackson smiled and wanted to kiss her. "No problem," he replied as they stopped beside a Tesla.

Denise placed her handbag on the hood and fumbled inside (Jackson assumed) for her phone as he looked around hoping the owner wasn't nearby, before realizing his mistake when she unlocked the car. Placing her bag inside the car and phone in hand they swapped numbers, Denise taking longer than her younger companion. After an extended moment of silence between them, Denise looked up at Jackson.

"So. Be honest, did you try and look me up?" She asked out of the blue.

For a moment Jackson wondered what she meant, more focussed on the valuable car she drove. Look her up? Up her dress? She was wearing pants, he reasoned before comprehending what she asked. He was glad the light was fading and she couldn't see him blush for the umpteenth time that day. "Yeah," he admitted. "But I couldn't find you."

For Denise the news was even better than she expected. If what she supposed was true, Jackson was attracted to her before he had any idea of her past. She thought of the men who visited the store just to see their fantasy in the flesh. She was no longer the woman caught on film and often she would see the disappointment in their faces. Other times it sickened her as they ogled, undressing her with their eyes as they recalled favorite scenes. With Jackson it somehow felt different. She wanted him to see her naked. To see her at her best, captured in her prime onscreen. The sudden vision of him masturbating as he watched her sent a welcoming shudder from her crotch to her brain.

"But your mother told you my name!" She stated before realizing she must have left out a detail. "Oh," she added as she climbed into the car. "If you're curious, look up Deidra Forde. Forde with an 'E.' She smiled and closed the door, the window opening in the process. "See you Monday Jackson Robbins."