He lets her be and gets a shirt and help from a store associate.

"Maybe that's only normal goings at this store," he brushed off with a quip. Whatever that was, it wasn't something to expect any more of. Best just leave it at that. His gaze landed on the same men's top for the seventh or so time, and he tapped on its hanger with a hand.

Finally, his hands pushed it over as he plucked the one next to it. He held it up. It was a plain light grey tee, and nice looking enough. He looked at his watch, then scoffed. Right; children's toy. Was it to undergo some kind of magic transfiguration just 'cause he wanted it to? He stuck a hand into his pocket.

After checking the hour on his phone, he decided he still had some time to kill.

He spotted a young woman with light brown hair in a swishy ponytail walking by, wearing a store uniform. Automatically, he began assessing her. She was cute, but her body was the star, even fully clothed. Fit and tight. Just as he liked it. He wondered if she was a regular at the gym nearby. Not like he went that often, but he could start. Miraculously, he quit staring in time to catch her attention.

"Hey," he asked a couple feet behind her, causing her to turn to him, "do you know where the changing rooms are?"

She smiled and pointed to the right corner of the store, by a shelf of corduroy pants. "The entrance should be right over there." As Caleb thanked her, a slumping co-worker came down pushing a bin. Caleb noticed him approach. When the uniformed clerk saw her and the customer she was tending to, his eyes fell downward and he grinned, then brought a hand out and slapped her ass through her black trousers. Hard. The young woman's brow scrunched.

"Your butt is so fine, Rachel."

"Dylan!" Rachel turned to him and knocked him in the shoulder.

"What?" He raised his shoulders. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Not by smacking me, no," Rachel gritted her teeth, and before she could continue the snide man spoke up once more.

Dylan grinned. "Thought so. I just saw that tight little thing and had to give it a spank."

"Well, yeah, I get it, blockhead. We work at Vinny's. Guys are practically obligated to spank any girl that they want, anytime anywhere. I'm not stupid." The slightly wincing woman rubbed her bottom. "But did you have to slap mine that hard?"

"Sorry, hot thing," he apologized superficially, his lips still contently prying through his cheeks, "next time I'll just give it a little rub. You'll even like it, I promise."

"Dylan," Rachel asserted seriously, removing her hand from behind her to place it at her hip as she stared him down, "I told you already, don't call me that. And I don't trust that tone of yours. Just... remember that if you try anything weird like you did last time, I won't hesitate to report you."

The co-worker looked at her with accusatory eyes. "What? But last time I just did the same thing, slap your ass! And it was actually softer!"

"Just 'cause you could do it any time you want now doesn't retroactively make what you did in the past okay. You still showed willingness to be disruptive and harass others." Rachel rolled her eyes, and expended a quick second to look at Caleb apologetically before continuing, "But anyways, I got a customer to help. So if you have nothing else you want to say..."

Completely oblivious to her was the state of shock her relegated customer was in. His eyes darted from one worker to the other, and he realized they were legitimate. Unlike the other three, these weren't random customers. They were actually discussing store policies in front of him and she just said he any other guy could 'spank any girl they want anytime anywhere'. The same thing that had happened with the other woman, between him and that other man? In what inverted world would that ever be considered 'okay' by even store rules?

"But what you said don't work," continued Dylan's plea for innocence, "you said if I do anything weird like 'last time'..."

"I meant if you try something else similar to that," Rachel sounded increasingly miffed, despite skillfully maintaining her professional disposition, "don't try to play dumb." She eyed him closely. "Do I have to spell it out for you?"

That pushed it. His inner pervert spoke into his ear, and he had to jump in at this point.

Before anyone could say anything else, Caleb stepped forward, then with one hand extended in front of her, pushed his hand against the underside of Rachel's soft, perky breast and like pushing on the valves of a trumpet wrung his fingers around its doughy flesh. He tightened his grip, then crudely jiggled it up and down.

"Like this, for example?" he asked through an aroused croak. He didn't even care if he got lynched anymore. The craziness of their talk, the groomed perversions arousing inside of him -- they were to blame anyway. The teen gave the young woman's breast a proper squeeze, pushing through her bra and feeling her tit's hardening point jutting through. Meanwhile, the subject of his partial public **** removed Dylan from her piercing gaze to look softly at Caleb.

"Just like that," she said, her tone gentle and devoid of any malice whatsoever. "Right on the money." Reprising a serious expression, she turned her head back to Dylan with a tempered but sharp tone. "See that, Dylan? A high school kid's apparently sharper than you. Just look at what he's doing here, to my chest." She gestured to her right breast, which was being squeezed and cupped by her latest acquainted customer, before which he was pretty sure she had never met, seen, or talked to, "Since he's helpful enough to provide an actual, live demonstration for you, why don't you take the time to remember it and keep this in that hollow head of yours in case you forget or have any doubts?" She smiled testily, and took one small step towards him, causing Caleb to follow suit as suddenly, to his woody popping surprise, the store associate grabbed his other hand and pulled it to her left breast and pushed it onto her chest, causing him to drop the shirt to the floor. Rachel gave her gulping co-worker a professionally kind, yet abstrusely icy look as she grabbed Caleb's other hand, and with both of hers now over them, gyrated his hands against her two breasts in steady, circular paths, creating a very pleasant visual for anybody who'd chanced a look, and a cripplingly glorious sensation for Caleb, who was now but an inch and thread of will away from pouncing on her and humping her thigh. "You try anything like this?" her voice betrayed the calm expression on her face. "And I'll dropkick you so hard you won't even know what a breast looks like once the lights turn back on. Investor father or not."

She smiled again. From a distance you probably would have thought they were just two friends having a giggle at some inside joke, unawares of the pent-up volcanic energy radiating from the taut vixen that stood only an inch or two short of him.

"Understand?"

A couple seconds of choked speech passed before Dylan collected himself and cleared his throat. "Right," he said, a little louder than was probably necessary, "Rachel. Good talking to ya! See ya later alright!"

He left fast enough to have had a cartoonish ball of dust in his wake, but not before sneaking one last pat of her ass as he fled. Caleb watched in continuous, stricken disbelief as Rachel said nothing and finally let go of his hands, but didn't move to detach them from her tits so much as slightly lift up her underarms to give him better access (or at least get more comfortable). She began to turn when, suddenly, a womanly voice piped up from behind them.

"Excuse me?"

Both Rachel and Caleb turned to see a blonde woman probably in her late 30s, pulling up a cart with a variety of dresses spread across it. Caleb gulped again, eyes scouring her body. She had on a light blue polo shirt and white, tight capris that were filled out by her legs very well. Her face was framed by a clean wave of blonde hair that stopped just at her jaw.

"Oh, yes?" Rachel asked. It was only then that Caleb realized that his hands were still latched onto the clerk's perky chest. With a start, he drew them away. Neither Rachel or the woman mentioned or indicated anything being off.

"The changing rooms?" he heard Rachel repeat as she pointed in the same direction as earlier. With a smile, the blonde woman rolled away with her cart and Rachel sighed, stretching.

She had turned back to look at Caleb, who had promptly picked the shirt up from the floor -- the same one that had gotten him into all this.

"Oh, sorry about that," she laughed. She softened, her face actually displaying a look of slight gratitude. "I was trying to make a point to... Dylan, there." A steely sliver briefly passed over her eyes. Then she shook her head. "But hey. Thanks for sticking your head in for me. You didn't have to do that."

Caleb gulped, not sure if he heard her right, still not sure if he imagined anything right, frankly. But replied, "Oh, er, it was nothin'. Ha, ha, you can always rely on good 'ol Caleb Anders to save the day." After an awkward chuckle he throatily added, "Does that guy cause a lot of trouble? Like... harassing women and stuff?"

"Oh, you don't even know," Rachel rolled her eyes, as if it was no new topic. "The only reason he's still around is 'cause his dad knows so many people and needed to get him a job to stop him from laying about after he got fired from his last one."

"Why'd he get fired?"

Rachel shrugged. "Guess."

He was still fairly wary about asking all this information, but he sensed no irritation in Rachel as she chatted, so went on. "Harassment?"

The associate nodded. "Not much else to say. He's been at it again here, too. Just last month, he was trying to get at me. And last week, he 'brushed' his arm against Carla's chest when he was supposedly reaching for a tape roll." She scoffed. "He's a piece of work. Even after we dropped him into clean-up duty."

Caleb nodded. "Also, did you really mean it when you said you'd dropkick him?"

This was followed by another nod, this time from Rachel. "Well, yeah. Believe it or not, I got a white belt in judo when I was in high school," she smirked, slyly, but without making it sound like a boast. "Haven't needed to use it much during college yet, but I still keep that knowledge on reserve for people like him." She winked conspiratorially. "If you know what I mean."

Caleb did, though somehow felt a little sympathy for Dylan, of all the people. Not that he would do the same thing, or advocate it; but he'd definitely imagined doing it, and fantasized about it more than a few times in the recesses of his mind. Mostly he just wished he could enact on those feelings -- and sometimes he did. But the lectures he'd get from his folks afterward were punishingly numbing. Worse than the actual slaps from the girls, honestly.

"So," Caleb cleared his throat carefully, steadying his voice, "what you're saying is, he's gotten himself into trouble for doing stuff like... this?"

Inhaling shakily to himself, he set down the shirt, and brought his hands up to her shoulders. She looked at him with lilted curiousness as he turned the store clerk around. Caleb watched her carefully, emboldened by how casually she made no move to stop him. Then, once her back was turned right to him, he took another breath, drinking in the view of her tight butt. The fact that she was standing there nearly presenting herself to him was a titillating thought, but not what he was looking for. Slowly, he raised his hand, and with as hard a swing as he could muster, he lashed it downward and pummeled his palm against her smooth trousers, right onto her other butt cheek. The contact with her pert ass caused a deafening crack to fill the air.

"...aaaahhhahahaha, ooooowwww." Rachel hissed, pulling her hands into a fist. "Ooooff, god." She looked back at Caleb, laughing. "Yeah, exactly. Except," she tilted her chin down, as if providing some kind of discreet compliment, "yours was way more painful."

Another lump raced down Caleb's throat as he lightly smacked her other butt cheek. This was getting him unbelievably hard. Eccentrically horny. Intrepidly uncomfortable. "Soo, would you mind it if I did it again?"

"Why would I mind?" Rachel asked, puzzled. "Besides, sir, this is Vinny's. Guys slap girls' asses here, it's what they do."

"Yeah," Caleb realized he was not even contesting that statement, "but you just scolded your co-worker for slapping yours too hard, didn't you? And you said mine was worse! And didn't you say he got in trouble for doin' that to you just a while ago?"

Rachel shrugged. "Well, yeah, that was before, but obviously things loosen up over time. And I also scolded him because he's Dylan. And Dylan's Dylan. And you're, well..." She turned to face him fully, and shook her head. "...you're a customer, and stuff."

Caleb was as gobsmacked and erect as ever. That wasn't right. That wasn't even close.

He was about to say something else when suddenly, he heard a sharp voice skewed in their direction.

"Hey, Rachel!"

The teen turned to see who it was, but instantly regretted it.

The burly, thick armed security guard from earlier was marching towards them.

Oh crap. Oh CRAP.

He was going to get his head bashed in, and for what, for trying to investigate a situation? No, not now. He was too young to die. Caleb immediately picked up his shirt and ditched the two, aiming for the changing rooms. He didn't even stop to look at either of their faces as he rushed past the store clerk standing in front of the entrance and went straight into the left pathway. Numerous stalls lined the walls. He barged into one, closed it, and breathed in, dropping his shirt onto a nearby bench.

One second passed. Then two. Then five. Then an uncountable more, when finally, Caleb exhaled.

It seemed like nobody came in after him. And they probably wouldn't dare, either.

That said, how long was he gonna stay in here for, anyway? As Caleb thought of calling Zack, 'cause somehow he'd figure something out, he also gulped and mentally raced through the recent series of events he'd undergone, and quietly began rubbing his dick. Harder and harder, and more and more rapidly. He thought of the woman with the bangs, and her nice rear, and the guy that squeezed it right in front of her girlfriend, who laughed it off like it was a curse word. Then Rachel, and Dylan. And then him, with his hand right in front of the judo white-belted former's own rear. Then the crack that echoed through the store after he'd brought it down. And then he realized he had unzipped his pants and was fondling and stroking his painfully hard cock, pulling its shaft and panting at the unprecedented hotness of such a situation he'd found himself in. He still felt the faint sting from slapping Rachel's own buttock resonating through his hand, and he groaned at that thought, stroking himself even harder and feeling himself reach the verge of his pleasure.

"Oh, excuse me."

Caleb jumped. He turned to see a blonde head squeezing past him, her hands pulling up his shirt to grab what looked like a bra from the bench that it had been apparently covering. And then Caleb's eyes widened, as he realized who it was. And where he was.

And what she was wearing, which was nothing except a comfy pair of light beige panties, showcasing her wonderfully smooth and curvy, yet thin, motherly body. And, most stunning of all, a pair of hefty handfuls of breasts, with wide aeroleaed nipples that looked as lovely as the natural landscape of 'ole and that jiggled slightly with each motion. She stood back up, bra in hand, and Caleb in his clouded frenzy noticed all the other clothes hanging against the pair of hooks in the stall, along with those smattered across the benches. Then he looked back at the blonde woman, the same one that had asked for directions from Rachel earlier, now in front of him, dick in hand, in a horny fog, as she turned her head to look at the mirror and evaluate her body from behind.

And he felt like he had to do something. At the very least, something about the pumping schlong beneath him. He apologized to the woman in advance, somewhere in the recesses of his logical mind. It looked like it was too late to just zip-a-dee-doo-dah and away.