I worked at a sandwich shop in college. This morning I was scheduled to open the shop along with the manager and a cashier. Manager arrived first, me next, then the cashier arrived about a half hour later. Routine dictated once I arrived the manager left the shop to go to the bank. This left me alone in the shop for about 15 minutes until the cashier arrived. It was a beautiful summer morning and I was alone in the break room with my raging hormones, morning wood, and thoughts of all the young beauties that worked there who would soon be arriving.
It was the late '80s and all the cashiers were girls. Girls in their late teens or early twenties. Some short, some tall, blondes, brunettes, redheads, straight girls, lesbians, prudes, sl*ts, you name it. Fashion of the time dictated they were typically dressed in tight, stonewashed jeans; white leather Reeboks that were slightly grayed from wear; hair tied into a ponytail underneath their uniform visors; and uniform polo shirts that snugly fit their perky, young racks. The cashier that was scheduled to work this day was a tall, thin, dirty blonde with a great ass that might be described as a slight bubble butt. Her jeans always seemed slightly more faded under her back pockets (from her ass rubbing against them) and her long ponytail started at the top of her head and bounced down to her shoulders when she walked. She was smart but sometimes acted dumb (we all did at that age), flirty but prudish, and almost certainly a virgin.
My imagination got the best of me this morning and I couldn't help myself. I thought of how her ponytail would come bouncing through the doorway at any moment as I unbuttoned my jeans and pulled down my underwear to let my raging boner breathe in the break room air. The thought of her possibly catching me while I massaged my hard cock turned me on so much I decided to drop my pants all the way down around my ankles. This left me half naked and difficult to walk or quickly move if anyone walked in. I imagined she had smooth, pink and thin pussy lips topped with a dirty blonde bush that ached for my tongue. The image I created in my mind was too much and I was quickly reaching for a towel to unload into.
My teen cum was thick in those days. Maybe it was because there was no Internet porn available to let me constantly unleash so I tended to save it up. When I did finally unleash it it would launch in several strands of thick, sticky cum. Those strands were sometimes so thick I could actually pick them up like strings and examine them as they hung in the air from my fingers. If those strands touched anything they would quickly stick to and conform to the outline of what it touched. This morning I made several of those strands.
While I stood there with my pants around my ankles and cum in my hand I had an idea. What if I could get her to touch my cum?
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