I was bored. You might not think that working at an adult boutique would be dull, but Tuesday evenings at Suggestions was always slow. I had been employed by Monique for just a few months, off the books. Monique didn't want any official record of me working there, just in case the shit ever hit the fan.

It was a pretty unusual arrangement. Most of the other senior high girls worked at the mall or in fast-food. I was an "erotic fashion consultant" - at least that's what we jokingly called ourselves. I really liked being there, and Monique treated me more like a partner than an employee.

Monique's shop wasn't like some sleazy porn shop hidden on the edge of town. It was an up-scale boutique, located right on Main Street, that specialized in sexy women's wear like garter belts and leather tops. The store was definitely geared towards women, not men. It also sold condoms, vibrators, and even a few fetish items. Because Suggestions didn't actually sell pornography as such, nobody put up much of a stink about the place, as long as it kept a reasonably low profile.

Monique also had another business, a much less conventional one, assuming you can call selling lingerie and sex toys conventional. She occasionally entertained a select group of clients downstairs in the basement, providing certain services which she was uniquely qualified to deliver. Once in a while, I would assist her with one of her "appointments", but mostly I just minded the store.

I wasn't just bored though, I was trying to cope with an assortment of emotions. I was still distraught about Saundra having simply discarded me. She had been my best friend, my lover, and my confidant. Saundra had released my sexual nature, for women as well as for men, and there was no way to undo that.

But now she was gone, leaving me feeling abandoned and lonely. I wasn't over it yet, but I was on my way. The longing still remained, but the crying had stopped.

Most of all, however, I was horny. Saundra might have been gone, but the hunger she had unleashed was still as powerful as ever, and it wanted to be fed. I was wearing my favorite high black boots, which always seemed to keep my mind on sex. They made me feel vibrant and alive, as if they were the embodiment of my own sexuality. Knowing that Monique was in the basement with a client that I really liked, while I was stuck there in an empty shop, just made my desire stronger.

And if being bored, upset, lonely, and aroused weren't enough, there was one more thing bothering me - I was craving chocolate. Maybe that doesn't sound so significant, but my relationship with chocolate has always been important to me, and I've nurtured that romance carefully.

It was then that the door to the shop slowly opened.

She was younger than most of our customers, and she was obviously intimidated, almost scared. I wondered if she would turn around and walk back out. Often the younger ones lost their nerve, but this one didn't. I really wasn't sure how old she was, but definitely still in high school, probably a couple of years younger than me. I didn't recognize her.

She took a brief glance around and saw that there were no other customers in the place. She released the big breath that she'd been holding, and slowly said, "My sister sent me here."

I was immediately attracted to her, though I wasn't sure why. I'd never really been attracted to younger girls before. Of course, before Saundra, I hadn't been attracted to girls at all.

She wasn't what I would call beautiful, but she was cute, in a simple sort of way. Her light brown hair was pulled back tightly against her head, too tightly, I thought. She was a little shorter than me, and with my boots on I towered over her.

What really drew me to her were her eyes, big brown doe-eyes that seemed to sparkle.

I moved around the counter to get closer, gave her a warm smile and said, "Hi. My name is Jenny. I can help you."

She looked up at me with those dazzling eyes and meekly said, "I'm Cynthia."

For a moment, I just stood there, staring down into her shining pools. I could feel my whole body get warmer and my pussy start to tingle. She had an almost visible aura about her, a combination of sensuality and innocence. She was a vixen and didn't know it yet. My knees felt weak.

I wondered why I would have such a reaction to this younger girl. Sure, I'd been horny already, but that was nothing unusual. Why did this Cynthia make my heart rate jump, and my brain get fuzzy?

I actually shook my head a little to clear it and asked, "Ok, Cynthia. Why did your sister send you here?"

She blushed, and stammered out, "She said I should get a ... you know ... umm ... a thing."

Of course, I knew immediately what she wanted. Even most of our adult customers have a hard time saying "vibrator" out loud, but I was enjoying her embarrassment, so I decided to tease her a bit.

"Well, we have lots of things here. Did your sister say what kind of thing?"

Cynthia looked around again, as if she wanted to be certain that no one was listening, when she quietly said, "a ... umm ... vibrating thing."

So I said loudly, "Oh, you mean a VIBRATOR!"

In an instant, her face turned the color of a Coke can, and she looked down at her shoes. She reminded me of myself not so long ago, which is when I realized that I was being unfair. Monique hadn't embarrassed me when I bought my first vibrator, and I had Saundra for support back then. Feeling a little ashamed of myself, I decided to stop torturing her.

"I'm sorry, Cindy, I was teasing you. It's just us here."

"Cynthia, not Cindy," she suddenly stated emphatically. "My mother says Cindy isn't proper."

I wondered if her mother thought buying vibrators was proper, but I didn't say that. Instead, I said, "Sometimes being true to yourself is more important than being proper."

She looked questioningly up at me, but didn't offer any response, so I asked, "Ok Cynthia, tell me why your sister wants you to buy her a vibrator."

"It's not for her, it's for ... me," her timidity returning.

Her blush had started to fade, but now it was returning full-force. "When I ... umm ... you know ... I can't seem to ... uh ... finish."

"Masturbate" and "orgasm" are two other words that people seem to have trouble actually saying out loud.

"My sister says I need more stimulation on my ... spot."

Add "clitoris" to that list, too.

"I understand." I said. "Let me show you what we have."

As I brought her around to the little side alcove where we kept the toys, I had a mental image of Cynthia lying on her bed, furiously rubbing herself. The room temperature seemed to jump several degrees, and I realized that I could detect my own scent now. I started to think that maybe wearing my boots today had been a bad idea.

I showed her the "sample" vibrator that we kept complete with batteries. It was a basic white six-inch model with a knob on the bottom to control the speed.

As Cynthia held the vibrator lightly in her hands, I turned the knob to start it up. She had the expected response - she squealed and dropped it.

As I retrieved and handed her the buzzing "thing", I realized that I wasn't just picking up my own scent. She was giving off some powerful pheromones herself, and I was definitely responding to them.

I had done this sort of sales pitch probably a hundred times, as vibrators were a big part of our business. This time I found it hard to concentrate on what I was saying. She spent most of this time staring at the vibrator, but every time she did look up at me, I found myself gazing into her eyes, and repeating myself. Maybe that was why I was so attracted to her - Cynthia had chocolate-colored eyes.

I realized that if I was going to help her, I'd need some more information.

"Do you have a boyfriend, Cynthia?"

"No," she said dejectedly, "my mother says I can't date until I turn sixteen."

"So you're a virgin, then?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Ma'am?! Call me Jenny", I insisted, "Ma'am is way too PROPER for someone you're discussing masturbation with. Besides, I suspect you call your mother that, and I am definitely not your mother."

She grinned at that, and actually seemed to relax a bit more. I showed Cynthia another vibrator, this one still in its box.

As I moved closer to her, I said, "What I'd suggest for you is one of these. It's quite a bit thinner and a little smaller than the one you're holding, but it's just as strong. My first vibrator was just like this one, and it's still one of my favorites."

She looked up at me and said, "You ... masturbate too?"

I was a little surprised that she'd actually said the word. For some reason, it made me even hotter. I imagined us sitting side-by-side on my bed as I showed her how much fun a vibrator could be. Yeah, the boots should have stayed home.

"Cindy, EVERYONE masturbates ... probably even your mother," I smiled.

She shook her head and muttered, "I don't think so, and my name is Cynthia."

I inched towards her and quietly said, "Well, anyway, if you hold this gently against your ... spot, you shouldn't have any trouble ... finishing. When I got my first one, I hardly left my room for a week. All I needed was a fresh set of batteries, a few drops of baby oil, and a good fantasy."

"Baby oil and a fantasy?"

"A little baby oil will keep you from getting sore, and it's the fantasy that makes it all seem real."

She just gazed up at me like I was from Mars or something. So I asked, "Cynthia, what do you think about when you touch yourself?"

She blushed again and mumbled, "Nothing really, I guess I just concentrate on what I'm doing."

I stared intently at her and quietly said, "If you think about something that excites you, it makes it much easier, and more intense, to ... finish."

"You mean like a cute guy or something?"

"Maybe," I answered.

I took a final step towards her side, now her shoulder was actually touching my chest.

Then I whispered into her ear, "But the best fantasies are the forbidden ones. The things you can't ever really do, but secretly dream about. Like being with someone who is seriously hot, but who is still a bit too young. Like teaching her how responsive her body can be."

Cynthia's eyes grew wide, and for a moment I thought that I had pushed too hard, but she didn't try to pull away. Those doe-eyes were still sparkling, and I felt her shudder just a bit. Her scent was really noticeable now, and I'm certain that she could smell me too.