Being the Night Shift Guy. Chapter 1

Chapter One: Her Only Fan That Night

Another quiet night, I thought to myself, while slowly mopping an aisle in the small convenient store. At twenty-eight years old, I have spent the last four years working overnight shifts in this quiet store, just outside of the CBD. Most nights were like this, except for weekends, when you might get a few more customers on the way home from a night out. Otherwise, most of the people I saw were taxi drivers or hospitality workers on their way home.

I looked up reflexively at the sound of electronic doors. A young woman had just walked into the store. Standing at the end of one aisle I saw her from the ground up. Her red heels were quite tall and would have required some skill to walk in so gracefully. My eyes followed her brown legs up to her thicc (yes, I imagined it spelt that way) thighs, perfectly visible under a small bit of black fabric that passed for a skirt.

Above that was a red top with thin straps that barely held in her delicious breasts. I’d never seen so much cleavage (outside of the internet). Moving upward I saw that her make up was carefully done, but also that she was staring back at me, with an amused expression.

“You’ve never seen me all done up before, have you?” she asked, traces of seduction and humour mixing with her British accent.

It was then that I realised who she was, one of my regulars. Normally she dressed in casual clothes, usually a hoodie or t-shirt, with track pants or running shorts. Her black hair was usually tied back in a long braid, but tonight it had been straightened, and hung loose over her shoulders and back. I’d noticed her before and thought she was cute, but tonight she was stunning. She could be a model or pop star.

“Are you going to stare at me all night” she joked “or is there a chance I could get my usual?”

“Yes, of course” I managed to respond.