Behind The Counter

You run over behind the counter, yanking your panties down, **** to get the ice cream off your skin. The boy's eyes go as wide as dinner plates at the brief, involuntary glimpse he gets of your pussy.

You stammer out, "Is there, is there, do you have-"

"We... have a washing machine in back, but it's for employees only," he says hesitantly.

"Well, can you let me use it for a short time? Please? To assist a customer? I'd be ever so grateful," you say, leaning forward and looking him in the eyes. Whispering in his ear, "I'll let you keep the panties if you do."

"Su-sure. Over... over here."

He picks up your panties for you and lets you in the back room where there is indeed a small washing machine. You drop the panties in and notice something. Your dress is more sheer than you thought at first, and without panties, your kitty is faintly visible.

He's standing in the doorway, watching you furtively.

Do you strip in front of him?

Ask for some privacy?

Somethinge else.