Summer Job

I used to think Mr. Crawford was just a nice man. He always hugged me and gave me presents when I saw him. When summer came, I leaped at the chance to work at his junk shop. Yes, a real junk shop, piled to the ceiling with dusty relics and furniture. All I had to do for my wages was mind the front and do some cleaning while he slunk around out back with his friends.

After I had worked there for a few weeks, I had taken to going to the attic, or top floor, during the slow hours, and reading the heaps of old romance novels there. Sometimes, I would unzip my pants and do what all girls do when they are turned on. One day, though, I wasn’t careful enough. As I stood there, one hand holding “Night of Desire,” the other one down my pants, I felt two strong arms wrap around my waist, trapping me in this compromising position. I gasped and dropped the book, trying to see who was there. “Mr. Crawford! Help!” I was certain this was someone had come into the shop silently while I had been reading.

“Darlin’, I’m right here,” he breathed into my ear. Christ, it was my friend, Mr. Crawford. What was he doing? His hot, soft breath made my stomach flutter. I could feel his chest heaving. He held me so tightly, that I was having trouble breathing. “Are you having fun?”

He began to slide one of his hands down into my jeans, over the edge of my panties. I snapped out of the trance his rasping breath had created. “No!” I shrieked and tried to stop him with my free arm. I tried to pull away, but it was to no avail. His hand sunk out of sight. “Please, no,” I pleaded, writhing helplessly in his embrace.

“Oh, honey, I know you want this. It won’t hurt. It’ll feel good. You’ll like it. A lot. You don’t know you want it, but you’re gonna get it.” He started moving his hand down… there. At first he just touched my clitoris. I was still wet from the love scene I had been reading earlier, and I was glad I was, for I knew what was coming would have been painful if I hadn’t been juicy. At that moment, although my entire being screamed, “This is wrong!” I was giving in to the small jolts of pleasure he was creating. I soon lost control and began rubbing against his hand, whimpering and crying softly as I began hating myself for what was happening. He loosened his hold on my body. “Yeah, that’s it girl,” he said. I let out a loud moan when he plunged his fingers into me. I was falling forward. He had to hold me up with his one arm. I could smell his body. I could feel his humid breath on my neck. Then, I noticed something stiff poking me in the back. I begged him to stop once more. Of course, he told me I would like it, that a girl my age needed to do this sort of thing with an older man to gain “valuable experience for pleasuring future lovers.”

He shoved his fingers in hard and deep. I squealed in pain and pleasure. The little bursts of fire that warn me of an oncoming orgasm began to race up my abdomen. He put his thumb back on my clitoris and began to rub fast. I began to buck against his hand, riding it for all it was worth. I felt something hot and wet touch my neck. I didn’t know what it was, so I turned my head to see. His mouth met mine, his tongue forcing me wide open. He thrust his tongue in and out of my mouth in time with the thrusts of his hand. I felt a wave of lust-quenching pleasure wash over me, but it wasn’t the big one I could feel coming.


We stopped moving, my impending orgasm put on hold. “Hello? Is anyone here?” called a customer from downstairs. Mr. Crawford released my body and I fell forward. I caught myself on a table before I hit the floor. He wiped his hand on his pants and gave my rump a harsh slap. “We’ll finish later, darlin’?” he grinned. I glared at him as he walked down the stairs.

I could hear his loud, booming voice as he talked to the customers. I lay on the floor, unsatisfied and feeling humiliated for what had almost happened. He had betrayed me. He had used my first kiss to stick his filthy tongue inside me. He wanted to stick more of himself inside me, no doubt. Thank God those people came. But, they hadn’t saved me from losing my first kiss. They wouldn’t be able to stop the nightmares and fantasies that would follow in my muddled mind. I slid my hand back into my pants and brought about my own climax, all the time imagining what it would have been like to have him on top of me… or behind me, as it might have been that day.

I worked for Mr. Crawford for many summers until I finally managed to escape to college. I would have quit that job, but it was a small, poor town and I couldn’t find another one. He took more than my first kiss from me.