Frank Brown: Wild naughty daughter

"That man's a genius," said one of the ladies. "Absolutely."

"And he never did a wiser thing than hiring my Sally," Sally's mother said. "Well dear, we must be running along. Reverend Rockford wants to meet with the ladies' group this morning. Too bad you can't be there, but you have your duties here."

Thank God for that, Sally thought.

For a time during the morning, things got busy. At one point Sally had to contend with a line of five people as they all converged on the sales counter at once. She felt momentarily exhausted after ringing up the last sale of the five. A half-dozen men went to the fitting rooms during the course of the morning, four of them choosing the booth with the window, but Sally received no indication from any of them that they were interested in anything but trying on and purchasing warm-up suits, T-shirts, tennis shorts, and whatnot. Four times, she entered the woman's fitting room closest the men's, and four times she waited for a knock or for some indication that the men wanted her to open the window. But nothing happened. Each time, the men went to the cash register a minute later, with no hint of suggestiveness in their expressions as they paid her their money and she made change. By the time noon came along, Sally was feeling tired, hungry, and puzzled. She wondered not only about why no men knocked on the window booth, but also about what she was going to do for lunch. Cleo wasn't here today to relieve her.

About one minute after twelve, the elevator doors opened and a familiar face appeared. It was the girl who had greeted Mr. Lipman yesterday morning, the girl, Sally recognized from school. The girl came straight toward Sally, a smirk on her face.

"So how's it going, you lucky bitch?" the girl said. "I don't know how you got old George to assign you down here right off but whatever it was, I'd like to hear about it."

"I don't know what you mean," Sally said.

"Aw come on, baby, don't play stupid. Half the girls in this store would take permanent pay cuts for the chance to work Sporting Goods even part-time. You're brand new, and he puts you down here right off. What's the catch?"

"Maybe he likes my hair," Sally said.

"Or the feelings you gave him," the girl said. "You look kind of like a mink, and I bet you fuck like one too."

Sally was speechless.

The girl laughed. "Don't get so uptight, girl. We both know what goes on around here, so why pretend we don't? I've been working here six months and I still can't get over how everybody is so tight-lipped about everything. We all got jobs here by selling our bodies to that old toad upstairs. He's a shrewd old bastard. He gets more then pleasure out of those so called job interviews of his. He finds out if we're suited to working in this glorified whorehouse of his. Any girl who isn't one-hundred percent cooperative, any girl who isn't hungry for cock doesn't get hired. He can smell a willing slut a mile away."

"Glorified whorehouse?" Sally mumbled.

"Well, what would you call a store that attracts male customers with willing girls? Some of those guys come from the next state to buy a pair of jeans just because there's a good chance their salesgirl will give them a quick blowjob while they're trying on their new pants. And even if they don't get what they're really after, they always end, up buying something. This is probably the only department store in the country that sells as much to men as it does to women. Old George has got half the men in this state addicted to buying whatever they need in his store, even if they have to drive all day to get here."

Sally was starting to understand.

"And Sporting Goods is where all the jocks come. How have the jocks been treating you, girl? They been keeping you busy?"

"It's been a very slow morning," Sally said. The girl laughed. "Likely story. I'll bet you've sucked off a half-dozen sweaty jock cocks since nine o'clock, and you call it a slow morning. Christ! I'll bet old George has you working the evening shift by next month. Then you'll get more than you can handle. You'll be burping up cum all night. Those evening shifts are something else, especially in Sporting Goods. I worked part-time as a substitute my first six months here, and a couple of those evening shifts down herein Sporting Goods just about wore me out. One night we had four girls working Sporting Goods, and we could hardly handle it."

Sally listened to all this with fascination and excitement. Her cuntlips swelled up and were throbbing. The wet meat between them tingled with a maddening fuck-itch. She felt like reaching under her skirt and screwing a finger or two up her seething crotch.

The girl had turned red. "Man, just thinking about those evenings down here gets me hot. And you look like you're getting hot too. What's your name, girl?"

Sally told her.

"I'm Denise," the girl said. "I'm the one who'll be taking over for you down here while you're at lunch."

"Oh, I was wondering about that," Sally said. "Well, I'd better go eat."

"Not so fast, girl. You've got a whole hour. Plenty of time." She moved close to Sally, staring into Sally's eyes, and she slipped her hand under Sally's skirt.

Sally felt faint as Denise squeezed her cunt. "Main, you're all wet," Denise breathed. "Just like me. Feel me up, huh?"

Sally's arm moved mechanically. Her hand slipped under Denise's skirt. She groped Denise's hairy, swollen cuntlips. A slimy fluid dripped into her hand, like hot spit.

Denise moaned. "Oh baby!" She worked a finger up into Sally's cunt.

Panting, the hot juice starting to run down her legs as Denise finger fucked her, Sally shoved a finger up Denise's cunt.

The two girls gazed into each other's eyes, pistoning their fingers in their juicy, sucking fuckholes. Sally felt tingles all the way down to her toes.

Denise suddenly pulled her finger out. As she dropped down in front of Sally, Sally's finger slipped out of her cunt.

"Hold up your skirt," Denise said, breathing hotly. As Sally hitched up her skirt, Denise plunged her face between Sally's thighs and started to lick. "Mmm, you taste good!"

She spread Sally's cuntlips, opening Sally's cunt completely so she could lap her cunt and fuckhole.

"Mmm, cum!"

She glued her mouth to Sally's open crotch and sucked rhythmically, vacuuming out Mark's cum.

Sally had to brace her hands on Denise's shoulders to keep from falling over. She felt dizzy and weak. Her heart was slamming. She was scared to death of the elevator door suddenly opening and of being caught with Denise. That fear wasn't quite rational, because she and Denise were hidden behind shelves and would have plenty of time to separate after the warning chime of the elevator. Still, she worried, and her fear increased her excitement, making it race.

"Ohhh, God!" Sally closed her eyes, grinding her crotch in Denise's face. "Shove your tongue in! Quick!"

Denise rammed her tongue up Sally's cunt and Sally exploded with pleasure. She gasped, humping at Denise's mouth as the spasms pulsed through her loins.

"Eat it, oh God, suck it!"

Denise growled, sucking, gnawing, slurping. "Mmmm, you hot little bitch, hot little slut!" she mumbled, sucking down the fluids that ran from Sally's contracting crotch.

Sally moaned, milking out her pleasure, feeding her raw crotch to Denise. The spasms had no sooner begun to subside than Denise suddenly pulled away and got up. Denise was masturbating frantically. She forced Sally to kneel and held up her skirt as she mashed her dripping cunt to Sally's mouth.

"Suck it!" Denise moaned. "Eat it up!"

Sally had no choice but to suck, to chew, to lick. The hot pussycream ran down Sally's chin and neck. Denise's cunt felt like a huge hairy mouth, belching steamy air, drooling, sucking. Sally worked her tongue up into Denise's fuckhole and listened to the other girl groan. All at once, Denise's cunt contracted hard and Denise started to gasp and shake. She whimpered with pleasure as she fed her spasming crotch to Sally.