Slim Jim and the Lotto Girl

Chapter 1

"Dude, can you go run next door and see if they have a plunger? The shit I just took is epic and there ain't no way it's gonna flush without some assistance."

I stifled a gag as I walked away from the thankfully closed employee bathroom and out onto the sales floor. The second my loafers hit the worn gray carpet and the bright lights reflected off my shiny black shoes, my palms started to sweat and my glasses slipped down my nose. I hated dealing with the public. I was a repair technician for a reason. My lack of social skills and awkward appearance were better suited to the back room, not out amongst the living. But if my fellow co-workers were ever going to be able to use the bathroom again, I needed to find a plunger.

I sidled up next to the counter, keeping my shoulders up close to my ears in an attempt to hide. My manager, Jasper, was behind the register, his long dreadlocks tucked back into a thick pink elastic scrunchie. I stared at his hair accessory for a moment, wondering where he might have possibly acquired such an outdated fashion ornament.

Wouldn't an elastic band be much more appropriate?

"What are you doing out of the cave, Edward?" he asked loudly, his comment startling me as he ignored the older woman who was standing at the counter in front of him. She held a ridiculously old cell phone in her hand, and I could only hope she was at the store to upgrade her decrepit device.

"Emmett had an issue and I need to see if they have a plunger at the 7-Eleven," I said, swallowing down the anxiety I always felt when speaking in public.

"You know, a bit of castor oil will help make your movements much less sturdy. I use a metal coat hanger to break apart the ones that get stuck," the customer said, her voice ringing loudly in the otherwise empty store.

"Um, thanks for that very helpful information," Jasper choked out between stifled guffaws, but she was oblivious to his laughter.

Ducking out the front door, I shoved my hands into the pockets of my gray slacks. Our Radio Shack was an older one, situated in the middle of a strip mall right between a Condom Galore and a 7-Eleven. I wasn't sure where Emmett had wanted me to search, but there was no way in hell I was going into the condom shop. Just imagining the amount of germs lingering on the door handle made me nauseous. The 7-Eleven was my only choice.

The bell above the glass door rang loudly as I pushed it open, making me cringe. Nothing like having your entrance announced to all and sundry. I wished I could have just found what I needed in the aisles, but after a cursory glance, I realized they didn't sell such an obscure item. I was going to have to ask the clerk if they had one.

I took a moment to ready myself, standing behind a rack of sugar free gum. Deep breaths and positive affirmations only did so much to calm my racing heart, but I couldn't wait any longer. Heaven only knew what Emmett might have been doing in the bathroom, and it was my day to clean it before closing up for the night. I straightened my shoulders and pushed my glasses up the bridge of my nose as I started walking confidently toward the counter. Everything would have been fine had my elbow not caught the edge of a gum display in the middle of the aisle. Every pack of sugar-free gum went careening toward the floor, scattering wildly across the grimy tile.

"What the fuck?"

I dove to my knees quickly, my movements sending a rack behind me to the floor as well. My hands trembled as I swept the packs into a pile. I could hear the heavy clomp of feet as the obviously irate cashier approached, but was too embarrassed to look up.

"I'm so sorry," I mumbled when steel-tipped boots came into my view. The shiny toe of one black leather boot tapped on the floor.

"What the hell did you do, Slim Jim?"

Looking up from the mess, I followed the slightly scary boots up past calves covered in fishnet stockings. A black leather garter belt peeked out from beneath the hem of her too-short plaid skirt. The requisite orange 7-Eleven uniform shirt she was wearing was tied off just underneath her breasts, leaving a tempting swath of skin showing. Between her two rounded, mostly-exposed breasts, hung a vial of some red substance on a heavy silver chain. Her pale skin and delicate features were hidden behind heavy crimson lipstick and black-as-night eye makeup. What was probably thick and shiny mahogany hair was torturously maneuvered into a mass of braids that wrapped all around her head. Piercings ran up both her tiny ears, in her lip and through her nose.

In short, she was at once the most beautiful and frightening woman I'd ever seen.

"I asked you a question, Slim," she said with a smirk, the movement causing the thick hoop in her lip to sway.

"My name is Edward," I replied automatically. I had no idea why she was calling me the same name as a faux-meat product, but I didn't like it. Her smirk turned into a full-blown smile at my words.

"Edward? That is just perfect," she chuckled as she bent down next to me. Her hand slid through the space between us, creeping ever closer to the intimate area between my thighs. Her knuckles brushed against the fly of my jeans as her fingers closed around an object beneath my leg. I bit my lip as my penis hardened.

"This was why I called you, Slim Jim, Slim," she cooed, fluttering mascara-caked eyelashes at me. She raised her hand and held a plastic wrapped tube of meat in my face. Apparently I'd destroyed the Slim Jim display as well. "Although, judging from the bulge in those awesome Dockers, I should have snagged one of the Monster Sticks instead."

Her words and the phantom feel of her fingers against my flesh was too much. With a strangled grunt, I closed my eyes as waves of pleasure surged through me. By the time the last stream of semen had escaped into my underpants, I was completely and thoroughly mortified. With my eyes still closed, I slowly pushed to my feet, keeping my hands carefully in front of my now-damp fly.

"I apologize for the mess. If you'll excuse me, I believe I have suffered enough indignities to last me for quite a while," I mumbled. I started to turn around; hoping I might be able to find the exit without further delay, but her hands on my thighs stopped me.

"Shit, I'm sorry. I didn't mean…well, I did mean to, but I didn't mean-" she rambled, her now-contrite tone forcing me to open my eyes. She was still on her knees on the floor, leaving her right at eye level with my soggy crotch.

"It's fine. I really should go, though," I said quietly, praying I could make it out of the store before the gooey mess in my pants started to slide down my leg.

"Wait! What did you come in for?" she asked, pushing to her feet, her heavy boots clomping after me. I stopped with my hand on the door.

"One of my co-workers plugged up the toilet. I was coming to inquire if you had a plunger we could borrow."

"Oh…my…God! That is epic!" she squealed, her husky laughter making my spent penis twitch in my wet briefs.

"Yes," I sighed as I pushed the door open, glaring at the bells as they signaled my departure. "It is never a dull moment." Between my clumsiness and the embarrassment of having prematurely ejaculating into my pants, I could almost guarantee I'd never be caught dead in that 7-Eleven again.

A/N: WHAT IS THIS? Seriously? Kitkat-you've been gone for almost a year! What's up?

This is what's up. I'm about 60k words away from posting 1 million words on ff. So I've decided to resurrect a plot bunny that has been sitting on my laptop since December. I only have four chapters finished so I have no idea where this is going to go or how often I will be updating but it will most likely be weekly.