Chapter 1: Day 1

I pushed the box onto the shelf and reached for the next. Shay hefted it up to me, with a grunt of effort. "A little heavy for you?" I asked mock-sweetly.

"Bite me," she retorted.

I clacked my teeth in a bite in her direction, "Bare it."

She smiled broadly, and held the next box up for me to place on the shelf, "What? Can't keep up?"

"Don't get your panties in a twist," I was moving the last box into a better position, making room for the next.

"I cant—I'm not wearing any," she said tartly, thrusting forth a denim-clad hip. I looked down at her from the top of the short ladder. She looked eminently sexy. My eyes started at her small feet, encased in Black cowboy boots. They worked up her slim legs with black denim painted on them to her narrow waist. On up, my eyes drank in her skintight red tee shirt that showed off her small well-formed breasts.

"Really? Prove it," I leered. I sat down on the ladder, making no move to take the box from her.

"Here?" she smiled. We joked and flirted all the time. Even though we were equals in the company, there was no competition between us. We both felt completely at ease in the other's company. She was a mother of two, with a divorce on the way. I was a happily married man, with an understanding wife. Things could have happened, but they never had.

"Come on," I dared her, using that tone we all learn to use in the fourth grade to goad others on to do really stupid stuff. "Are you chicken?"

She considered this and then walked back to the end of the aisle. She looked both ways and saw no one in the stockroom with us. Setting down the box she had been holding, she came and stood in front of me. She reached down and grabbed the button fly of her jeans and carefully unbuttoned the top three buttons. I could see a wisp of golden pubic hair. "See," she threw the word at me and started to re-button her jeans.

"Wait," I climbed down off the ladder, my blood boiling with passion. I had wanted Shay the moment I had seen her; she was whip-thin, blonde, blue-eyed, and about five one. She was my perfect woman, physically. We had bantered and discussed our sex lives and other private things. Now, I suddenly saw that things could get real, and fast. That is what I wanted suddenly. I pointed at her fly, "That's not proof."

"What do you mean?" she held the front of her jeans closed.

"They could just be really small panties, like something from Victoria's Secret. Come on, Victoria," I waved at the front of her jeans, "Show me your Secret."

She hesitated, and several different emotions crossed her face. I was ready to laugh it off and go on with work, when she ripped her fly open and pulled her jeans to her ankles. Nothing intruded on my view now. Her delicate golden bush had obviously been trimmed. It was just the right size to fit under a smaller bikini bottom, but no more. Just at the top of her pretty cunt, it stopped. Her cunt was lovely, the lips as smooth and hairless as a teen, and just slightly swollen. I think she was a little excited. Just then she turned around, showing her rear. Her crack was framed by smooth white skin, but with a distinct tan line. She pulled her jeans up and re-buttoned them.

"Well... That was definitely proof," I smirked. I picked up the almost forgotten box and started back up the ladder with it.