slow sunday in a stationery store_(1)
One Sunday, time was dragging. I was climbing up and down a ladder, shifting 40 lb boxes constantly, and I was bored out of my mind. I grab a box of ink cartridges and make my way up the ladder, when a soft cough catches my attention. A girl no more than eighteen is looking up at me. “Hey, what’s up?” Her hair falls to her mid back, her eyes are wide, and a small smile plays on her lips. She’s fucking tiny. I could break her. And my dick throbs its agreement. “I was just wondering where your pens were?” She asks, her empty basket at her waist. “Aisle nine,” I smile down at her. She looks around, as if lost. And I resist the urge to roll my eyes. “Just this way,” I …