My Side Slut, April Pt. 01

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Blonde

Hello! This is the first in series of stories. It’s a bit of a long one and starts with a bit of a slow burn, but, I hope, you will enjoy the payoff at the end.

I love the comments and messages i receive so if you have any feedback please let me know.

Enjoy!

Chapter One

Meeting My Side Slut

How can meeting someone be both the best and worst thing that could happen to you?

I often ask myself this question when I think about April and how she turned my life upside down. How she made herself a part of my life and almost destroyed it. When I think about her I am torn. I regret everything and I regret nothing.

+++++

I had just turned 41 when I met April. I had almost missed my own birthday, honestly. I have found that the older I get the less I care about that day. I don’t resent getting older. I mean, it’s unavoidable, but I can not tell the difference between the years very much anymore.

I suppose it might be tougher on some men. Men who have given up so much to live the lives that they think they should. Men who married and made families and moved to the suburbs, taking jobs they dislike to keep their families in the lifestyle they believe they should provide.

I, on the other hand, have done pretty much what I wanted for my entire life. I’m not bragging. I have given up a fair bit for this. I did marry, and I am happy with that. Kendal, my wife, was a couple years younger than me. She is beautiful and brilliant. She is a partner in a law firm and provides most of our income. We never did make a family, however.

I had never had that strong a desire for children and she let me know early on that she had none whatsoever. After some soul searching I realized that I was fine with that. So instead of the path so many of our friends took we made our own way. We never moved into the suburbs, instead lived in a large loft condo in the city. We don’t go to dance recitals. We go out for supper and to the movies and concerts. It’s a good life, one that has kept us happy and looking much younger than our years.

I wasn’t totally dependent on Kendal, financially. I had inherited an old brick building downtown. I rented out most of the space in it, providing a relatively healthy income for me. If I ever wanted to be a multi millionaire I could sell to developers to put up another soulless condo. This has never appealed to me. We had more than enough and I loved the rickety old building. The main floor retail space was mine, however.

That was where I had my record store, Sublime Vinyl. In a time when brick and mortar shops can barely survive, competing against the internet, I do ok. I keep my own rent down, after all.

I have always loved music and had started collecting records when I was still a kid. When I graduated university with a useless history degree, shortly after meeting my wife, I needed to decide what to do. She suggested making my collecting hobby my job. I had the building after all, and it would be something I would not hate.

It was the best decision of my life. 11 years later I’m still happy to come into work, sit among the dusty records and talk about music all day.

I have an online store and, truthfully, that provides the bulk of my business, but it’s the in-store experience that I love. I have regulars who have been shopping here since day one who have become friends. I can sit behind my counter with an ever-full cup of coffee, hang out and shoot the shit.

Business is never booming but I can not exactly do it completely on my own. I have three employees. Pete is a guy a bit older than me. He’s quiet and a bit of a mystery. I hired him shortly after I opened the store and I still know next to nothing about him. He likes classic and obscure country music and is encyclopedic in his knowledge of the genre. He watches the store when I take my days off and takes care of most of the shipping. Andy is a black man in his twenties. He’s funny, loud, about three hundred pounds. He works weekends and pumps rap when he gets control of the turntable. Strangely it seems like him and Pete are great friends. My last employee was a middle aged woman named Kay. She also had been with me from the early days. She was an aging punk with her hair chopped short and spiky. We were great friends but unfortunately she had just married her long term girlfriend and the two of them were moving out of the city to set up a yoga retreat on some farm.

That meant that the first time in a long time I had to hire someone. That was how I met April.

When you run a record store you don’t have any trouble attracting prospective employees. Everyone thinks they would love working at one. The problem was getting a good fit for the team. We worked closely together, and being able to get along was the most important thing.

I had not even posted the job online. I did not want to be flooded with applications. I just put a small sign in the window saying: help needed.

Several people had approached me about the job but I didn’t like the vibe off of any of them so I gave non-commital responses fethiye escort to them all. Finally, after about a week and a half April came in.

I was alone in the shop. Usually the early shift would have been Kay’s but she had already left for her yoga paradise so I was covering them all. I really needed to hire someone.

The young girl, I guessed 18 but later found out she was 20, walked straight down the aisle towards the counter and, I have to admit, I enjoyed watching her approach.

April was about 5’3. She had thick, shoulder length auburn hair and a very cute face. She wasn’t thin but her waist was small. She had magnificent breasts, hard to judge the size from just that look but they were big. She was wearing a white cotton shirt that buttoned up the front with the top few buttons undone, showing some impressive cleavage. The material was just this side of sheer and you could just make out the ghost of her red bra. The collar was open and one shoulder fell down, exposing the upper slope of that breast and a red bra strap. A sack like bag hung off of the other shoulder.

The shirt was tied just above her belly button showing the smooth white skin between that at the button of her high waisted jean shorts. Those shorts were very short, cut high in the back with the lower curve of her full ass showing and I the front the pockets hung below the legs. Her legs were smooth and ivory white. She had on simple sandals and her toes were painted royal blue.

So, yeah, I enjoyed watching her approach, her full hips swinging side to side, a slight bounce to her breasts as she stepped forward. I couldn’t help wondering how much then bounced without that confining bra.

“Oh hi, I’m April,” she said as she arrived at the counter. “Um..,I saw that you are hiring? For a sales associate?”

“Oh,” I said, glancing up at her face and meeting her green eyes, realizing I had been staring at her cleavage. Thankfully she didn’t let on that she noticed that. “Right. I’m Jake. Jake Hawthorn. And yeah, I’m hiring.. You interested? Do you have experience?”

“Oh yeah,” she said. “Just let me…”

She placed her bag on the ground and leaned forward to dig in it. From my higher vantage point I could tell that it was a mess in there. Also, from that vantage point I could see that her loose top fell forward and I could look right down her top. Her breasts were creamy white, with almost translucent skin. I could see faint lines of veins below the skin. The bra, now that I could see the material was red but it was sheer, and I could make out her nipples and the large areolas around them.

She straightened up and I quickly looked away, suddenly interested in an old flyer taped to the counter advertising a punk show that had happened six months ago. She smiled at me while she handed over a couple of pieces of paper. Her resume.

“Here you go,” she said. “If you want to look it over I can walk around. I haven’t been here in years!”

“Oh,” I said glancing up from the paper. “You’ve been before?”

“Oh yeah,” she said. “I used to come with my dad, back when… a long time ago.” She had avoided something there but I ignored it.

“Well,” I said smiling at her. “Welcome back. I’ll take a look and call you back over.”

She wandered the isles and I watched her idly examine the collection. I liked what I saw. Not just her young body, which of course was a delight, but how she handled the records. She pulled them out of the racks almost reverently. She ran her fingers along the smooth gloss of the covers and occasionally raised the album to her nose and smelled it. That made me smile. I too love the smell of an old album.

I scanned her resume, expecting to be underwhelmed. She was pretty young to be a good fit here, and her hot young body, as delightful as it was, was not going to get her the job.

No music store experience, of course. There were not too many shops like mine left. She had worked retail before. That was good. It looked like mall stuff, mostly. Her most recent job, however, was interesting. The Love Nest. I wondered what kind of place that was.

I expected to see that she was in university, given her age, but after graduating from high school it seemed like she had just been working. Finally I put down the resume and called out her name, April. She spun, a pretty sight and bounced over to the counter.

“This looks pretty good,” I said, tapping the resume on the counter. “It’s pretty informal here. Do you mind a quick interview right now? It’s pretty quiet so I don’t expect that we will be interrupted.”

“Oh,” she said, smiling, her round cheeks forming dimples. “Of course! Right here?”

I gestured to the other stool behind the counter.

“You can come around back here and we can chat.”

I pushed thoughts about how attracted I was to her out of my mind. I was back into boss-mode and wanted to get through the interview and make a clear decision. I was still doubting that she would be a good fit.

She sat on the stool beside me and swung her legs back and forth under her, escort fethiye her feet not quite reaching the floor.

“Ok,” she said. “I’m ready when you are. Fire away!”

I ran through my usual interview questions. Why a record store? Loved music and happy memories in shops like these. Why not going to university? Couldn’t afford it right now. Saving up so she did not need to take on too many loans. How do you approach a customer who doesn’t know what they want? And so on.

Finally I tapped the resume again.

“I was wondering,” I asked, “what’s this place? The Love Nest?”

“Oh,” she said and glanced away. Thus far I had been able to concentrate on the interview and ignore her body but with this question I saw a blush form on her cheeks and rise up the top of her breasts and across her chest. “That was the last place I worked. It was a kind of…clothing and toy store? Like a…sex shop, I guess you would say.”

“Oh,” I said, returning my eyes to hers. “Did you like it? Why did you leave?”

“Oh,” she smiled. Those dimples again. “I loved it. I like…helping people. People get so nervous and weird about what they want and it was fun to help them get out of their shells. I didn’t leave them. They shut down.” She shrugged. “The internet. You know? I did really well there. My boss, Susan, she’s one of my references, always said I was one of her best sellers.”

I didn’t doubt that. How could you not want to buy sexy things from a girl who looked like this.

I was on the fence. She was confident and spoke well. She had experience and I did not doubt some of my male customers would love having her to talk to as they shopped. Still she was young. I did not like bringing on staff, training them, then have them leave.

“Ok,” I said. “Last question. What’s your favorite album. And if someone came in and asked for it, what are three others you would recommend to them?”

She crinkled her nose, thinking hard for a moment.

“That’s such a hard question. I love so many albums. I think… Live at Max’s Kansas City by Johnny Thunders and the Heartbreakers. That’s the album. And the recommendations…Iggy Pop and the Stooges, Raw Power, The Ramones first album…and… The Clash, London Calling for some British in the mix.”

I blinked. I had not expected 1970s punk to be her go to, but I was impressed. All of those albums were in my top ten of all time.

“Interesting,” I said. “You are a bit young for that mix. How did you discover them?”

“Oh,” she said, and smiled again, but this time her eyes seemed sad. “My dad. That was the kind of stuff he always listened to. I grew to love it too.”

I looked at her for a moment tapping my knuckles on my thigh, thinking.

Fuck it, I thought, lets take a chance.

“Ok,” I said. “You have the job.”

Her eyes widened, face breaking into a grin.

“Really?,” she almost squealed, “for real?” She suddenly launched herself off of her stool and wrapped her arms around me. My own came up, instinctually and wrapped around her as she pressed herself against me. It was a very brief moment, her small frame against mine, those large breasts against my chest. I could smell her shampoo in her hair and a slight spicy scent of some perfume. I am not going to lie. As she held me those few seconds, I began to react, my cock beginning to lengthen down the leg of my jeans.

Then she released me and stepped back, blushing.

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…it’s just that with me being out of work my rent…I just…” She smiled shyly. “I just really needed some good news today. Thank you so much, Mr. Hawthorn! You won’t regret it. And I am sorry about the hug.”

“It’s ok,” I told her, smiling. “Nothing wrong with being happy. I don’t hate hugs.”

She chuckled. “Oh good! I’m a hugger!”

I swallowed at that. I had not meant to imply that I wanted more. That would have been inappropriate.

We talked for a little longer and set up her schedule. She would open the store a couple of days and close a couple of days. I usually came in late in the morning and worked until close to the closing time so we would see each other most of her shifts. I hoped it would work out. I really needed the help and I already liked her. She was nice to be around.

Before she left she asked me about a dress code. This made me laugh. One of the reasons I had my own store was that I liked wearing jeans and band tee shirts and had no interest in wearing some suit. I told her to wear whatever she was comfortable in.

And then she left.

+++++

That night I was thinking about her. I would have told my wife about my new hire but she had messaged me earlier to let me know that she would be working late. A big case that she needed to put the time into. I did not mind. I was used to this and, honestly, liked being alone. My wife and I loved one another but her job meant that we lived very separate lives in many ways.

I considered, after I ate my take out supper, going to a local bar where there would be live music but did not fethiye escort bayan feel like leaving the house. Instead I put on an album and took a glass of expensive whisky to the living room and settled into my leather chair to enjoy it while I poked around on my laptop.

The album I chose was Raw Power by Iggy Pop. One of my favorites but brought to mind my April’s suggestion. I hadn’t listened through it for some time and the heavy guitar and Iggy’s distinctive voice impressed me once again.

I thought about April, how she looked and how her breasts felt pressed against me. I felt myself getting aroused and decided to jerk off.

I opened my favorite porn video site and began to browse around, looking for a girl that looked like April. I knew it was creepy but, what no one knew, did not hurt anyone I rationalized.

It was unsatisfying. No one looked enough like her. One aspect would be correct but would miss the rest. Eventually I sighed, closing the laptop and opened my jeans pulling out my cock, closing my eyes. I would just try this by memory.

I wondered if she liked older men. This was all academic, I told myself. I was happily married. I was not going to risk anything for some young thing. Still. Did she?

I did a mental accounting of myself. I thought I looked ok. I was 41c but I ran most days around the nearby park, keeping myself fit and avoiding the worst of the ‘Dad Bod’ syndrome. I was 5’10 with blond hair that was just thinning a bit. I kept it short with a weekly barber cut. I had a full beard that was starting to go grey on the chin. I liked the grey hair, actually. I thought it looked good. I was pretty heavily tattooed with my arms and legs covered in sleeves and a large piece with a skull and crossed guns across my chest.

The hard cock I gripped in my fist while I brought April’s body to memory was a good size. About 7 ½ inches and thick. I filled my hand as I stroked and I had never had any complaints from my wife or any of my previous lovers.

I imagined slowly unbuttoning the white shirt April had worn today, pushing it open and revealing her large breasts captured by that red bra. I could picture her blush, a flush of red on her pale skin, forming across her chest. Her breathing heavily as I stroked her nipples through the fabric of her bra.

“Take it off,” I whispered in my empty loft apartment. In my imagination she reached behind her and undid the clasp letting it fall free, her young breasts still firm enough that they just fell a bit when released.

“Fuck me,” the imaginary girl whispered.

And then I came, a sudden, unexpected climax that I was not ready for. I groaned as I sprayed cum over my pumping hand, across my thighs and onto the black jeans I was wearing. I had not cum so fast in a very long time.

I chuckled to myself after I caught my breath and used a Kleenex to clean myself up as much as I could before throwing the jeans in the wash and having a quick shower. Then I went to bed, barely noticing when my wife finally came home and joined me.

+++++

Kelsey was up before I was the next morning. She did not seem to need sleep, that woman. I helped myself to the coffee she made and joined her at our table.

“How did your work go last night,” I asked after kissing her.

“Brutal. I expect long days and late nights all week,” she said rolling her eyes. “How about you. Still working open until close, with Kay gone?”

“Oh,” I said suddenly remembering my new hire, and then feeling a brief wash of guilt about my masterbatjon fantasy the night before. “Right. I actually hired someone yesterday. Some kid. A girl. She seemed ok and needed the job.”

“Oh good,” Kendal said smiling. “That’s good. It’s been a bit of a sausage fest in there for a while.”

“Yep,” I laughed. “Pounds of sausage. Anyway. Today I train her to open and then tomorrow I train her to close. Then she can take the shifts that Kay used to work.”

“That’s perfect,” Kendal said. “I have to run though,” she added standing. “After this week let’s make sure to have a couple of date nights. Dinners and movies. Okay?”

I agreed to that and she kissed me and left. I finished my coffee and then took my car to work.

++++

As I drove up I could see April leaning on the brick beside the door to my store, back against the wall, one leg bent and foot flat against the wall balancing on the other. She had headphones in and was scrolling through her cellphone. I pulled into the alley beside the building and into my parking spot tucked behind a raised loading dock I didn’t use.

I walked around to the front of the building and looked April up and down as I approached. She had not noticed me so I took my time.

Today, her auburn hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail, one strand free, hanging over her face. She was wearing a loose, thick sweater that was cut low in a vee in the front. It was the kind that most girls would wear a camisole beneath, but April had chosen not to. I could clearly see her cleavage and the tops of her breasts. She had the long sleeves pushed up her arms and the hem hung to her hips. She was wearing a skirt today, a loose black one with pleats all around. It was very short, coming just a couple of inches down on her thighs, showing her pale legs very well.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Leave a Reply

E-posta hesabınız yayımlanmayacak. Gerekli alanlar * ile işaretlenmişlerdir