Closing Time

As Juan walked the aisles with his mop and bucket, he couldn't stop thinking about Amber. It wasn't just her breasts. As he flopped the wet mod head on the floor and began to work, he thought about her soft and soothing Southern Belle voice. It was intoxicating. He moved further down the aisle thinking about her legs and thighs. His lustful thoughts were interrupted with a slip. He found himself on the cold floor. "Fuck..." He muttered, looking around the floor for what he may have slipped in. To his surprise, it was milk. What was weird about it was that there was no carton or container, just a small puddle of milk. Juan shrugged it off, and kept working.

He soon finished all the aisles and went back to his register to wipe it down. With a slight shock, Juan found Amber's red MMA gloves on the ground next to a candy stand. She probably forgot them, he thought. He stuffed the gloves into his jacket pocket and walked over to the punch out box as he waved goodnight to the closing manager. With a sudden realization, he now realized he had more weighing on him going to Amber's gym now. He felt obligated to return her gloves and he felt backed into a corner. Was this her plan all along?