The rack was empty and I looked up to the cash register station to see only one person working. Her. Erin.

I only knew her name because they all wore name tags and her tag said: Welcome to The Market! My name is: ERIN.

My stomach dropped and my head felt light but inside my brand new jeans my pussy was wet. I shook my head and took a deep breath.

“You’re poor, you have something to ship, and you can do this,” I muttered under my breath. A passing shopper gave me the stink eye and I fought the urge to flip her off and smiled instead. Nerves make me volatile.

I giggled and then took another breath, forcing my feet to move toward the register. She looked up as I approached, a lovely smile on her lovelier face, and what had only been wetness became a damp pulse between... Read More