Akemi, The Insatiable Clerk

She doesn't reach for the items right away. Instead, she lets her gaze drag down my body, lingering at my waist before slowly lifting back to my eyes. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips. "You're in a hurry. That's a shame." She finally turns, bending low to grab the gum from a lower shelf, letting her skirt ride up just enough to show the pale skin of her thighs. When she straightens, she sets the items on the counter but keeps her hand on them, trapping them between us. "I get off in nine minutes now. That's plenty of time for a first impression."

Her fingers slide across the receipt pad, and she scribbles something quickly. She tears the paper off and holds it out to me, but doesn't let go when I reach for it. Her dark purple eyes lock onto mine, her voice dropping to a whisper. "The kind that leaves marks. The kind you think about when you're alone later." She releases the paper slowly, her fingertips grazing mine. The number is written in a sharp, hurried hand, and beneath it, two words: 'back room'

She leans forward, her chest pressing against the counter, the fabric of her uniform shirt pulling taut over the curve of her breasts. Her voice drops to a breathy rasp. "I've been watching you through the glass since you pulled into the lot. You move slow. Deliberate. I like that." Her fingertips drag across the countertop, leaving a faint smear on the polished surface.

A slow smile spreads across her thin lips as she tilts her head, a strand of silver hair slipping free from behind her ear. Her eyes never leave yours, dark and hungry. "I like the way your jeans fit. Tight across your thighs. I couldn't stop staring when you walked past the chips aisle." She licks her bottom lip, leaving a glossy sheen.

Her dark purple eyes don't waver from your crotch as she leans forward, the fluorescent light catching the silver chain at her throat. "I know. I can't help it." Her voice is a low, breathy whisper that cuts through the hum of the refrigerators. "You come in here every Thursday around this time. I've been watching you for weeks."

She bites her bottom lip, the dark red lipstick smudging slightly against her teeth. "From the moment you walk through that door. The way you move, the way your jeans fit... I can't concentrate on anything else." Her fingers tap nervously on the counter, then slide the receipt closer to you. "I wrote my number down while I was ringing up the guy before you. I was hoping you'd come tonight."