Free Nervous by Zane Page B

came out instead.
    “Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t hear you come in. I was in the back looking for a product for a customer.”
    I scanned the store. “A customer? Is said customer invisible?”
    He laughed. “No, she’s on the phone. Give me a second.”
    I watched him take a seat at the cheap stainless steel desk and pick up the phone.
    “Sorry for the delay, Ms. Gray. We don’t have it in stock right now but, if you like, I can special order it for you.”
    I smirked. How in the hell could an item be out of stock when they never had more than two people in the store at a time?
    I eyed him carefully as he concluded his call. He was about six-two with skin the color of dark fudge, had almond-shaped dark eyes, and looked like he could hold his own in a bench-pressing contest.
    He hung up the phone and said, “Sorry. How may I help you?”
    “That’s the third time you’ve said sorry in the past two minutes. What’s there to be sorry for? You’re just doing your job.”
    He shrugged. “True, but my mother raised me to be a gentleman.”
    “Good for her.” I fingered one of the more luxurious sets, a king-sized one. “How much is this?” I could’ve read the tag but I wanted him to come over to assist me so I could peep out his ass and see if I could spot a hump in the front of his pants.
    He fell for it, came over, and read the tag that I was perfectly capable of reading. “This set is twenty-seven hundred.”
    “Twenty-seven hundred? Does it fuck the people sleeping on it for that price?”
    He was taken aback. “Sorry?”
    “There you go with ‘sorry’ again.” I rolled my eyes. “Look, um, Jerry,” I said, reading his name badge. “Don’t get this twisted but how often does someone really come in here and pay that kind of money for a mattress set? Something to sleep on?”
    “I’ll admit it happens sporadically but it does happen. Most of the sets we sell go for anywhere between three hundred and eight hundred. Is that the price range you were looking for?”
    I stood there, debating about whether or not to go through with my original plan or switch it up. I glanced at the door. “What would happen if we locked the door and tried out the twenty-seven hundred set?”
    He blushed. “Excuse me?”
    “You heard me.”
    “Try it out how?”
    “By fucking on it, how else?”
    He was apprehensive. “Are you serious? You must be kidding.”
    “No, not at all.” I reached over, grabbed his tie, and jerked him toward me. “What’s wrong? You don’t believe women are capable of going after what or who they want? Men do it all the time.”
    He chuckled. “True, but most men aren’t even brave enough to ask someone to fuck them in the middle of a store in broad daylight.”
    “Well, that’s their problem.” I ran my tongue across his cheek, like an animal marking my territory. “So how about it?”
    He tried to push me away. “Miss, I don’t even know you.” He held up his left hand to show me his ring. “Besides, I’m married and extremely faithful.”
    I giggled. All men are dogs. Some of them just don’t know it until you educate them. “What does it mean to be extremely faithful?”
    “It means I don’t even look at other women,” he replied.
    I let him go and backed away, climbing up on the mattress set and pulling my top over my head. When I reached behind me and starting unclasping my bra, I said, “So, I guess you won’t look at my tits then.”
    He not only was looking, he was staring. I bet his wife had carried three or four kids and had tits hanging down to her belly button. My tatas were pert.
    I lifted the side of my skirt, reached beneath the elastic of my panties, and started fingering myself. “Jerry, you know you want this pussy. Come on and get some.”
    He faltered before stating, “There is something seriously wrong with you.”
    “No, there’s something seriously wrong with you if you don’t take advantage of this situation because it will never come