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 WARNING:
The following story is for the entertainment of ADULTS ONLY, and
contains descriptions of explicit sex.  If you are not an adult, or reading
sex stories upset you, or you are offended by subjects of a sexual nature -

do not read any further!  Stop Reading This Now!!

   This story is for entertainment only.  It contains adult oriented
material.  This is a work of fiction.  The acts and characters contained
within are figments of my imagination and have no basis in fact.  I do not
practice, advocate, condone or encourage acts portrayed here.  The
characters in the story are entirely fictional.

   This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without the
written permission of the author.  This story may be freely distributed
with this notice attached.

   If you enjoyed this story, please let me know at
harveymarcus9@hotmail.com

   Copyright (C) 1999, HarveyMarcus.  All Rights Reserved.

   NIGHTY-WARE

   Part 31 (mf)

   Prologue

   It all started when mom had hosted a Nighty-Ware party for some friends
and neighbors in my house.  Instead of plastic storage containers, lingerie
of all kinds was sampled and purchased.  My first sexual experiences came
as a result of delivering these purchases to our neighbors.  Since then,
I've continued to have a variety of sexual experiences with an assortment
of partners.  ______________________________

   I always seemed to be short on spending money and decided I needed to
get a part-time job.  A likely place was Liddy's, a local store that was a
cross between a dime store and a department store.  If you were lucky, they
had just the item you were looking for that day.  If not, they didn't have
it or just sold the last one with no chance for any more.  It was close to
school.  More than that, it was a challenge.  My buddies had tried in the
past to get stock boy jobs at the store but gruff Mr.  Liddy shooed them
away like pesky flies.  They didn't think I'd have much of a chance either,
so we made a wager on my success.

   The front of the store had crowded aisles where everything seemed to be
out of place.  Old yellowed signs hanging above had no relationship to what
was on the shelves below.  You needed to walk each and every aisle, looking
for your desired purchase.  Therefore, the store was always crowded with
people, all searching diligently for items on their shopping lists.  If I
didn't know better, I would have suspected Mr.  Liddy of doing this on
purpose to keep people in the store longer and generate spontaneous sales.

   Mr.  Liddy was at his station, the checkout counter, overseeing his
daughter Libby as she tallied up a purchase.  The cash register was large,
shiny and mechanical.  When Libby hit the final total button, the machine
rumbled and then rang loudly, shaking the counter on which it stood.

   I approached the twosome.  Libby had a big smile for me.  Everything
about Libby was big.  She wasn't fat, more like what parents kindly called
big boned.  There was no waist present to separate the top and bottom of
her torso.  She did have a pretty face that puffed out at her cheeks as if
her mouth was full of pudding.  Mr.  Liddy stared and said nothing so the
ball was in my court.

   "I was wondering, sir, if you needed any help at the store.  I'm looking
for a part-time job.  I'm a hard worker and..," I began.

   Mr.  Liddy waved me off with a curt "I don't need any help here,"
putting his arm around his daughter and squeezing her in a protective hug.

   Libby stood on her tiptoes and whispered something into her father's
ear. He was trying to shrug off her suggestion but evidently couldn't
overcome her persistence.

   "All right.  Libby reminded me that I need some stock rotated.  Can you
do that?" he asked.

   I had no idea what he meant and Libby saw my blank expression that was
about to get me fired before I even began working.

   "Let me show him, daddy, " Libby offered.

   "Okay.  I'll pay you minimum wage.  Libby, make him a timecard and show
him how to clock in and out."

   She moved from the counter and left her dad shaking his head at a
decision he already regretted.  I felt stupid, taking a job I didn't know
how to do with an undefined commitment of time.  Now was the not the right
time to ask about hours, I decided.  Best to show some results first.

   I followed Libby to the back of the store through a doorway into the
storage room.  Libby took a blank time card, put my name on it, and put it
in my hand.  Holding my hand, she directed it at a time clock that punched
me in.  I was getting paid for learning the job.  Cool, I thought.  I put
the timecard in the storage rack and turned around.  Libby took my hand
again and led me further back into the depths of the storage area where new
stock was stored.  We passed the delivery door near the rear of the
building.

   "So what do I have to do?" I asked Libby.

   "You need to move the newly arrived items to the back and move the older
items forward.  This prevents items from expiring before we can sell them,"
Libby explained.  "Then you have to make sure the shelves are full of that
item.  We usually order when we're running low," she continued.

   "That's pretty simple.  You're always selling the oldest items first," I
parroted.

   The most recent delivery was near the delivery door, with a shipping
list that enumerated all of the items.

   "It may take you a while to find where to put things.  My dad has his
own system for storing our products.  I'd be happy to stick around and
help," Libby offered.

   "Sure, I'd appreciate it," I replied.

   I scanned the list of newly arrived products and picked one.

   "Where is the toothpaste?" I asked.

   Libby scanned the piles of boxes and cartons and shelves and pointed to
a high shelf on the wall.  I carried the carton over to the shelving unit
and looked for a ladder.  I found it in the corner leaning against the
wall. It was metal and old but the best thing available.  I propped it up
and started up to the shelf.

   "I'll steady it for you," Libby offered.

   I carried the new box up the ladder and tried to maintain my balance. 
There wasn't a convenient place to put the new box while I pulled the older
toothpaste forward.  I stuck a corner of the new carton in between the
ladder rungs in front of my chest while I pulled the older boxes forward,
making room behind them for the new box.  All the while, I wished I had
planned this better.

   Suddenly I had another problem.  Libby was holding the ladder with one
hand but had moved her other hand to my lower leg.  This was not helping
keep me balanced.  I worked harder to get the older products out of the way
so I could move the box sticking into my chest up on the shelf.  Libby's
hand moved up my leg, on my calf just below my knee.  There was finally
enough space to push the new toothpaste to the back of the shelf, allowing
me to move closer to the shaky ladder.  Libby's hand moved in between my
legs and grasped my lower thigh.  I had an involuntary reaction as I moved
the original contents back into position.  My task completed, I took my
first step down the ladder.  Libby's hand remained between my legs, and she
now had my whole crotch in her hand.  After a brief grope, she realized
that she was impeding my downward progress and removed her hand
reluctantly.

   "Next?" she asked looking at the bulge in my pants.

   I got the list and found the next item.  The same scenario played itself
out a couple more times.  I was handling the stock rotation work as Libby
was handling me.  After the third time, I was fully erect, frustrated and
more than a little angry.

   "What do you want?" I asked Libby as if I didn't know.

   "Come with me," Libby replied and I followed her through a maze of
cartons and crates into an isolated area of the storage room.  "Heather and
I had an interesting conversation.  She said you took her cherry.  She said
you might be willing to deflower me too," she said.

   Here we go, I thought, cheerleaders telling their friends about their
experiences.  Will this ever end?  "That was a different circumstance.  I
was being blackmailed.  There is only Heather's word against mine," I
advised Libby.

   "Heather said she'll tell the authorities if you don't make me happy,"
Libby threatened.

   "And what would make you happy, Libby?" I asked taking Heather's threat
seriously.

   "I want to see it," she replied.

   "You want to see what?"

   "Your, uh, penis" she relented.

   I unbuttoned and unzipped, pulled my pants and underwear to my knees and
thrust my hard-on forward toward Libby's face.

   "Suck it," I directed.

   Libby hesitated and then moved her mouth close, closing her eyes as her
lips came in contact with the head of my erection.  I pushed forward and my
dick slid forward into Libby's mouth, her lips caressing the sensitive area
behind the head.

   "Use your tongue," I said.

   Libby stretched her tongue forward and I moved deeper toward her throat.
Libby started to gag.

   "Relax your throat so I can go deeper," and Libby did as I requested.

   Now I started to move back and forth, going a bit deeper with each
thrust.  Libby licked and sucked as I had requested.  Her technique was
naive but effective.  I took her curly dark haired head in my hands and
dictated the pace.  Libby was deep-throating me quite successfully.  The
relative silence was broken by Mr.  Liddy, calling for his daughter to come
and staff the cash register.  Libby wasn't about to quit until we had
results and she kept sucking.  With no response, Mr.  Liddy cared for the
customer as we kept at it.  I could hear the rhythm of the register as Mr.
Liddy rang up a customer's purchase.  I used that sound to guide my motion.
My glands began to constrict and generate fluids.  As the register rang up
the total with a rumble and a ring, I pumped a stream of cum down Libby's
throat.  As I pulled back, she swallowed without prompting.  Libby used her
tongue to wipe a thread of cum from her lips.  She seemed to be satisfied
and maybe even happy that she was able to get me off.

   "That was great!  So when can we fuck?" she inquired.

   I told her this wasn't the time or place.  "You should probably go back
up front before your dad comes looking for us," I suggested.

   Libby left the storage room and left me alone.  I finished up rotating
the stock in the back room and then used the same list to examine the
shelves for refill requirements.  As I restocked the shelves, I relocated
the products to the proper position according to the hanging signs.  Mr. 
Liddy wandered over to see how I was doing and exploded.

   "You're messing things up.  These things are all in the wrong places.  I
knew hiring you was a mistake.  Punch out and I'll pay you for the time you
spent today," he barked.

   As I left the store with a cash payment, Libby looked dejected.  I
shrugged, hoping that leaving her father's employ would make me less
available and reduce the likelihood of her achieving her objective.

   At least, with my time card as evidence, I could collect on the bet I
had made with my buddies.

   Continued in NIGHTY-WARE Part 32

   An Original HM Tale

   ###