“Do you think she’ll send you back home?” I ask Harmony as we were walking to her job. I could already see the building despite still being a minute away.

“What do you mean?”

“You literally look like you’re dying. Then again, considering that you haven’t fucked in days, you probably are.” As soon as I said that, she nearly fell over and I had to hold her up. “See what I mean?”

“Yeah, but if I don’t show up on the first day, that won’t look good for me.” She retorted.

“I’m pretty sure that if you called in saying you’re sick, she’ll understand.”

“Maybe, but I can’t take that risk.” She looked at my hand on her shoulder and I immediately pulled it away. “Thanks. Minimum contact should keep me sane enough for the day.” Hopefully.

As we took our final few steps to the antique store, I turned my head to look behind us. There was only one person walking along the sidewalk, but they were busy yelling at someone on the phone. I could’ve sworn I felt someone’s eyes on me. I look at the grocery store across the street and see Karina heading into the building. She probably just saw me and the pure joy she felt made its way to me, but I refused to look at her until the moment her back was turned.

Oh, how could the idol of a desperate cashier worker just ignore them like that? Simple answer being that I didn’t know she’s there. Now get off my back internet Karens. I got a friend to help.

We walk inside the store, and I look around at all the antiques that were set up on shelves and hung on walls. Dust danced in the air as the door pushed through their little party. The entire store smelled old, as if it was on its last leg to stand on.

I look around for the boss, and from what Harmony said, I was specifically looking for a woman that would make me drop my pants the second I see her.

“Harmony, over here!” I hear a woman yelling from my left. 

I look and freeze on the spot. My mouth opened so wide that it nearly detached from my face and fell to the floor. My hand was already approaching my zipper too, but I remembered the wise words that Harmony told me yesterday. 

Her boss was an absolute monster of pure sexuality. I’m almost surprised that she somehow isn’t a succubus herself. Her bazoongas bazingad everywhere they could bazoong. With just a simple look downward, a person could easily see the outline of her pussy along her pants. 

I look over at Harmony, and she looks at me too. We both nod to each other, then smack each other across the face.

“You going to go crazy?” Harmony asks.

“I should be asking you that.”

“I’ll try to hold back if you do.”

“Ditto.”

Harmony walks up to her boss, who stood on a stepladder, taking a painting down from the wall. She wore gloves that kept her fingerprints from staining the material. Her eyes honed in, laser focused on the painting, making sure she grabbed onto it just right.

“You need help, Miss Miranda.” Harmony asked.

“Sweetie, you don’t have to call me Miss, but I do need your help. Paintings are always a pain to take down from the wall.” 

At first I didn’t see how, but once I looked at the counters, I knew what she meant. All the counters, with artifacts that were worth hundreds of dollars, lay between her and the painting. They stuck out too far, and not only that, but she couldn’t get too close unless she wanted to risk destroying hundreds of dollars’ worth of pottery.

Harmony didn’t answer, and I look over at her, only to see her staring right up at Miranda’s crotch with drool falling from her mouth. I lightly tap the back of her head, and she snaps out of her hunger. 

“Yes ma’am. What is it you need me to do?”

“Hold the ladder steady.” 

“Yes ma’am.”

Harmony dropped to her knees and grabbed the ladder. She hard locked her eyes to the floor knowing that if she looked up, she’d get a full view of her boss’s vagina. 

As she kept her eyes on the ground, I kept my eyes on her - outside of the few glances I took of Miranda’s finely crafted ass. Every time Harmony tried to get a tiny peak of her boss’ camel toe, I gave her an encouraging smack to the head to keep her down. 

“Just get off the damn nail already.” Miranda growled.

Harmony tried to look up once again, and once again, I smacked her. She whimpered and rubbed the back of her head. That was the twelfth time I’ve had to do that.

The painting finally came free, causing Miranda to stumble with her feet halfway off the ladder. I moved behind her and caught her before she came falling on top of us. I pushed her back onto the ladder where she planted her feet, taking several deep breaths.

“Thank you Harmony.”

“Actually, that was me.” I said.

“Huh.” Miranda looked behind her and looked at me as if she never even registered my presence until now.

“Sorry, are you a customer?”

“No, I’m her friend.” I pointed to the ground where Harmony was still on her knees. “You can get up now.”

“Sorry.” She said while standing up, her eyes never leaving the floor.

“What happened, Harmony? You didn’t look like this yesterday?” Miranda asked, reaching for her forehead.

“I wouldn’t get close.” I warned. Quick, brain, come up with a reason. “She’s really sick, but she didn’t want to miss the first day of her new job.”

“Sweetie, you don’t have to worry about work if you’re looking,” She scanned Harmony’s body “Gray. You can go back home.”  

Harmony didn’t say anything, instead using her actions to back up non-existent words. She looked up as if to say something, then began falling to the ground. Before she could, I caught her and leaned her up against me.

“Or better yet, rest up here.” Miranda offered. “There’re a few blankets in the back room. Take her there, and I’ll be with you two in a second.”

“No problem.”

I practically carry Harmony to the back room behind the service counter. She was so out of it that all she could do was moan and grumble words too quietly to hear.

“Nice. Hard. Sausage.” 

The words that I did hear just made me get a hard on. Tucking my tail between my legs, I open the door and find a few blankets heaped in the corner of the room. I lay her on the floor as I grab a blanket and neatly spread it on the ground. Once that was done, I drag her on top of the blanket, grab another blanket, then drape it over her unconscious body.

With nothing to do but wait, I look around the room. A single desk was the only furnishment back here. On the desk was a laptop and a pair of glasses sitting next to it. The laptop was open, and although my curiosity told me to look, it was basic human decency to keep her private life private.

A moan escaped Harmony’s lips, and I look at her sleeping figure. She was saying something, but so quietly she made zero sounds. I took an online lip reading class once just for the funsies, but I quit almost immediately afterward since I believed there would never be a time I’d need to read a person’s lips. Curse my past self for making dumb life choices!

Her voice became louder and louder, and I leaned in closer and closer, hoping to hear what she had to say.

“Harder.”

I immediately cover Harmony’s face with a blanket. I didn’t want to be the one to explain why she was asking for something to be harder in her sleep. Thankfully, the blanket muffled her voice even further, and future problems have been solved. Hooray present me for making good life choices.

All of a sudden, the door opened, and Miranda peaked her head in, waving for me to follow her. I sigh and stand up, taking one last look at Harmony. At least I would, if she wasn’t covered in a blanket decorated with nothing but snowmen. Or snowwomen. I don’t discriminate. 

I leave the room, shutting the door behind me while Miranda looks at the front entrance. No one said anything, and I couldn’t help but feel awkward that she hadn’t said a word yet. Come on, present me, keep up your game. 

I remember reading online once that if I wanted to start a conversation with someone, then it’s best to bring up something mundane and universal to get the ball rolling. Something like the weather or how their day was, for example.

“How’s your day been?” Miranda asks.

Dammit, she beat me to it. Calm down, just answer. You’re the one reacting here.

“It’s okay. Yours?” 

“It’s alright. I’m just waiting for the buyer to pick up the painting.”

“How much did it cost?” Good going me. Bring the topic to her interests. That’s exactly the performance I’m looking for.

“Well, it’s a painting that came in from this person who likes to replicate the art style of famous artists. He sells it to us for nearly 300 or 400, and I sell it for double that.”

“So 800 dollars?” I asked, wondering if she was using some other currency that make small number big. 

“Yep.”

“Isn’t that kind of illegal, though?”

“Nope. I bought it, therefore I can change the price and resell it. It only becomes illegal if I sell it for an insane amount compared to the original buying price. Basically, if I crank it above a thousand, then that would be kind of illegal, though also not really. Depends on the state now that I think about it.”

To me, that just sounded like an elaborate marketing scheme. The maker pays the store to sell their merchandise for double, then when the store has doubled the profit off the merchandise, they can keep on buying from the maker. It’s so shady, but if it’s not illegal, I guess I can’t say anything against it.

Wait, yeah I can. I just don’t feel like it. It’s not just because I don’t feel like being confrontational to someone I don’t know. It’s also not just because she has huge bahonkadonks. It’s mainly because me speaking out against it will literally do nothing to stop it.

Meanwhile, as I stare at her billygaroos, the front door opens, and a middle-aged man walks in. He immediately makes his way to the counter with his eyes fixated on me. 

“You got yourself a new worker, Miranda?” He asks, taking out his credit card. 

“Yeah, but this ain’t them. He’s just filling in for her.” Wait. I’m doing what for her?

He swipes the credit card, the computer goes ding, and he now has an overpriced painting in his hand. Then again, I doubt he cares. He just wants to brag to his friends that he has an 800 dollar painting. 

With a smile and wave, he leaves and I never hear from him again. Granted, he just left two seconds ago, so of course I wouldn’t hear from him.

“So you want me to fill in for Harmony?”

“You’re gonna want to stay to make sure she’s okay, right? Why not make yourself useful in the meantime.”

I sigh, but she knew I wasn’t going to refuse. With Harmony so hungry that she fell unconscious, I’d worry too much about her if I left. So instead of arguing, I shoot back at her the best way I know how.

“Okay, tight crotch.”

“What?” I thought she would get mad, but she just sounded confused more than anything.

“You do realize that your pants are showing off your camel toe, right?”

She looks around the store, then in a brisk pace, heads inside the bathroom. I stand around, twiddling my thumbs, humming a random song that popped up in my head as she’s taking her sweet time in there. 

She came storming out of the bathroom, her face flushed as she ran into the back room. Oh, how I love revenge when done well. If I have to stay out of my home for an entire day interacting with people, I deserve to have a little fun.