Joanna Angel - Night Shift - A Choose-Your-Own Erotic Fantasy

“I rip my damn stockings all the time! It’s not a big deal. Seriously. When my mom worked as a secretary she went through, like, five pairs of nylons a week.”

This didn’t make him feel any better. He tried moving the stockings around so the run was in the back and not the front, but I could already see more of the fibers weakening from the movement.

“You’re gonna make it worse! Don’t do that—the more you move them around the more they will rip,” I said. “Here—I know a trick.” I ran back to my purse and pulled out a bottle of clear nail polish that had been living at the bottom of my bag for about three years. I honestly don’t know how it ever got there in the first place, but every time I would clean out my purse I would come across it and think, I should keep this here; I might need it one day . Never did I think it would be to fix a 200-pound man’s pantyhose.

“You’re not gonna tie it together with rope are you?” He laughed.

“No!” I answered defensively. “Here’s a secret: If you put clear nail polish on the run, it will stop it.” I got down on my knees and painted the run in his stockings with my clear polish. I found myself running my fingers up and down his masculine hairy legs, and I loved the way the stockings felt on top of his thighs. I’m glad we went with the nude color; it showed off his form.

“You have really nice legs,” I said.

“Oh, thanks!” he replied. “I load furniture in and out of my truck all day so my legs and arms get a good workout. My gut though, that’s all beer!” He laughed and patted his belly. It really turned me on to think that a man who delivered couches during the day would be trying on thigh-highs at night. Something about that made me feel free.

And just at that moment, Sandy walked out of the bathroom, her extended time in there acting as a costume change; she came out sporting her own lingerie ensemble: an all-red matching bra and panty set, with fishnet thigh-highs and heels.

“Happy Saturday!” she yelled.

Billy and I couldn’t help but laugh. She continued to dance with herself, ironically to an instrumental version of Billy Idol’s “Dancing with Myself” (who coincidentally was also another man named Billy who enjoyed dressing like a woman). I stood by the plastic table and Billy grabbed my hand. He looked right into my eyes and said, “Thank you.” I smiled. We continued to hold hands for a bit, until we both decided to let go and eat Cheetos.

I was actually having fun.

Idecided to follow Amir.

He finished his drink and headed straight to a section of the store with “male enhancement” pills. He definitely had a purpose. There were two different types of pill in the store. One kind claimed to make you last longer in bed. Essentially it was herbal Viagra. I was never good at science, but I was able to wrap my brain around the fact that different herbs/chemicals mixed together could increase your sexual stamina. I mean, if Vitamin C and echinacea could make a cold go away, then ginkgo biloba and magnesium (two ingredients that seemed to be listed in the ingredients of all the boner pills) could give you a stronger erection and libido. Right? But then there was the other category of pills—which I could not comprehend the chemistry of at all—the type of pills that claimed to make your penis bigger. It was like the magic beans in “Jack and the Beanstalk.” Even as a kid I didn’t believe in that fairy tale. A prince was more likely to pick me up in a pumpkin and whisk me away to a ball than having a fucking plant that grew all the way up to the clouds and led to a castle—with a harp. There was always a pointless harp in there somewhere.

“Sandy, did you order the Vaso Ultra pills like you said you would?” Amir asked my boss. What on earth was he talking about?

“No, hon’. I tried to and I couldn’t. It must be off the market already. Why don’t you just get one of those Extendable™ ones again? Didn’t you like those?”

He rolled his eyes and anxiously browsed through the pills. He had an incredibly uneasy energy about him, and I felt compelled to help. Perhaps there was something I could do.

“What are you looking for?” I asked.

“Vaso Ultra is a new enlargement pill on the market. I’ve tried all the other ones here.” I was shocked.

“If none of the other ones worked, why would you want to try a different one?”

“They work. I have proof that they work. But when your body gets used to the pill they stop working. The newer formulas are always more effective. It shocks the system. You know what I mean.”

He wasn’t asking if I knew what he meant, he was telling me that I knew what he meant—but I had no idea what he meant.

“If this one is off the market like Sandy said, it probably means it wasn’t good, right? Maybe it’s for the best!”

He glared at me. He was clearly not in the mood to give me a penis pill 101 lesson.

“The pills aren’t approved by the FDA, so if they’re really popular, they get caught, and they have to change the name and the formula right away. Usually Sandy gets the good shit before that happens because she’s on top of it. I don’t know what the fuck is going on.”

“Well I was hired here just a few weeks ago and I’m getting the hang of things. If she lets me take over the wholesale ordering I can try to help.”

Sandy interrupted. “Amir, you have a beautiful cock. I think your other method is working better than those

pills!”

His face was suddenly flushed red. It’s just so terrible when arrogant men look embarrassed. It’s like you see a piece of their soul that you know they don’t want you to see and you don’t really want to see.

“What’s the other method?” I asked. I was already being annoying, I may as well just keep going. I mean, I was sitting in an adult store on a Saturday night surrounded by Cheetos and anal beads. What question could really be inappropriate here?

Sandy laughed, and walked right over to Amir and grabbed his cock. He pushed her hand away and she put it back, and this time he smiled and let it stay there. I don’t know if I would ever be comfortable enough to grab a customer’s genitals, even an apparent regular’s, but that’s Sandy for you—always up in everyone’s business.

“Relax, Amir, honey. Please!”

“I’ve been jelking. And I have proven results,” Amir said to me. He did actually seem more relaxed now. A crotch grab and some punch calmed him down. Maybe if he loosened up his man bun that would help .

“Excuse me—what?” I didn’t know if I misheard him, or if he actually said jelking . And if he did, I had no idea what that meant. Was it a cute nickname for jerking off?

“Jelking,” he firmly replied. “It’s a certain way of masturbating that elongates your cock. You pull your shaft all the way out as you wank it and over the course of time it elongates your penis. I have proven results.”

He pulled out a stack of photographs out of his pocket, with sticky notes on each picture, showing a date and the length of his penis at the time. The earliest picture in the bunch was from five years ago! And to his credit, there was a noticeable difference, and an actual mathematical difference, if the measurements on the notes were correct. For a minute I felt proud, like, his showing me these photos was a sign that we had truly bonded, and if he was a regular I was supposed to connect with him. Right?