Humpday Story: A Fitting Room Squeeze

A Fitting Room Squeeze_COVERv1_edited-1

Seven in the evening, right before closing time, and Tyler badly wants to get some tacos and flake out in front of the TV. If he could, he’d quit his retail job at Humdinger’s at the drop of a hat.

And tonight, every hat in the men’s department fell over, for no reason at all. 

As if straightening the hats weren’t enough, the most obnoxious customer ever demands Tyler’s attention. 

Turns out, she wants to use the fitting room for reasons of her own. 

If you enjoy quirky erotic short stories, be sure to read A Fitting Room Squeeze.



When the hat falls…

If it wasn’t one thing, it was another. And Tyler hurt too damn much to give a shit anymore.

His Sunday work schedule started at eleven o’clock in the morning, which in itself wasn’t so bad. But a later start didn’t make up for having to cover all three shifts by himself at a job he would love to quit at the drop of a hat. And today happened to be a day when a lot of hats dropped.


The hat-racks in the men’s department had all fallen over. Somehow, as if by magic. Tyler heard the crash from the cash register. Looking up, he saw them tip over one by one like dominoes in a row. Had he not been on the job, he might’ve found it funny. Given he didn’t laugh bothered him a little, though he wasn’t sure why.

Tyler went to investigate. Before him was a sea of hats. Fedoras, cowboy hats, ball caps. He stood, staring at the piles of disarrayed hats, as if by thinking real hard he could get the racks to stand back upright and the hats to float upwards where they belonged.

Suddenly, another foam cup of stale coffee sounded real good. The break room had little else, besides yellow light, a white tiled floor, and motivational posters that made him feel less than motivated to hit the sales floor and do his job. He snuck a bottle of ice tea back upstairs. Not enough to counter the stupid extreme heat, but at least he wouldn’t be thirsty.

Tyler loosened his argyle tie and rolled his dress shirt sleeves up. Times like now, he wished he’d seriously cut his hair short again. The men’s department at Humdinger’s was always ridiculously hot, for no damn reason. Customers complained about it all the time, did no good. Shoulder length hair, even when tied up, was miserable.

Sundays were always the worst. The long shift never seemed to end. He hurt from his feet to the base of his neck. His spine didn’t feel right, though he was in good physical shape. It was like training at the kickboxing gym, but less fun. More like getting his ass straight up kicked.

Seven o’clock was around the corner. Closing time. Another hour after that, he’d be out the door. He could pick up some tacos on the way home, and eat in front of the TV for a little while, a nice break before having to work again tomorrow morning.

Tyler stepped over the flood of hats and picked up the first rack. He stood it upright.

No sign of whatever toppled it over. Like a ghost had come through, pushing shit over just to spite Tyler. He almost believed that.

And then he saw her.

The most obnoxious customer.

She might’ve been attractive in any other circumstances. Long honey blond hair, gorgeous green eyes, cute dimples when she smiled. But the smiles seemed faked, like she was trying too hard to be human.

Tonight, Wanda wore a stretchy black mini-skirt, a form fitting green tank top, and black leather ankle boots with four inch heels. She had a Coach purse, jangly silver hoop earrings, and a silver stud in her nose. A tattoo of a blue fairy decorated her right upper back.

She liked to shop. And she always came right before closing time. Wanda always seemed to find him when he was cleaning out the dressing rooms, helping another customer, or cleaning something up.

It was a weird talent of hers.

Tyler sighed, and started picking up hats. Maybe she’d take the hint. Maybe she’d find whatever she wanted tonight, and move along. Tyler was alone in the men’s department, and the manager was good for nothing. He knew he wasn’t getting out of this so easy.

“Hey, sir,” Wanda called from across the tiled aisle, near the polo shirts. “Could you help me?”

“Nope,” Tyler blurted. Shit. He wanted to fall into the sea of hats and fucking disappear. Why did he just say no to a customer? Good thing his manager was nowhere to be seen, for once. Tyler would be fired for sure.

“I’m looking for something for my big brother,” Wanda continued, as if oblivious to his curt reply. “Is grey a popular color? Like the Fifty Shades of Grey movie?”

“Never saw it, don’t know,” Tyler said. Damn, he was on a roll with bad customer service. Maybe pent-up job frustration really was a bad thing.

Wanda held up a grey polo shirt, unfolding it and tossing the tissue paper onto the floor. Then she threw it back on the table, and repeated the same thing with a black shirt. Then a green one.

“Or maybe,” Wanda said, “I could get him a green one. He likes the Packers.”

“Oh?” Tyler said. Good. Keep it simple. Don’t say too much.

“What size do you think my brother wears?” Wanda said. “He’s, like, six inches taller than you. More muscular too.”

Tyler tossed hats back onto the tree, willy-nilly and not giving a crap where they went. There was a color wheel everything had to be arranged by. Light colors on one side, dark colors on the other, everything else in between somewhere in a non-sensible order.

“So,” Wanda said, making a bigger mess on the polo table. Tyler had spent an hour board-folding that table, and he’d have to do it again before the night was over. “If you’re a size medium, shorty, that makes him an extra-large?”

“I don’t know, lady,” he said. “Buy him a gift card and he can shop for himself.”

Strike number three for back-talking tonight. Tyler wasn’t sure if he should be proud of that accomplishment.

Wanda tossed the green shirt back on the table, and it immediately slid off to the floor.

“Excuse me?” she said. She strutted up to him, heels clicking on the floor, kicking aside hats as she went, and got right into his face. “Buy him a gift card? Are you being sassy with me?”

“Yeah, I am, lady,” said Tyler.

“I could call up my brother,” Wanda said. “And he’d kick your ass.”

Tyler picked up the next hat tree and stood it up. “Is that so?” he said. “Look, I get paid peanuts to put up with your shit and clean up after you. I’d buy your brother a beer for having to grow up with you.”

“And after he drank you under the table, he’d still kick your ass, little man.”

“Thanks.” Tyler picked up more hats and flung them on the rack. Ball caps next to cowboy hats. He didn’t fucking care anymore.

If he ever did.

When he thought about that for too long, that just made him sad. He might’ve even cried a little bit, if Wanda weren’t staring a hole in the side of his face.

She interrupted his self-pity by opening her mouth again anyway.

“Where the hell is your manager?” she said. “I want to speak with him.”

“He’s around here somewhere,” said Tyler. “Probably beating off to porn in his office. Want me to get him?”

Tyler spun on his heels, and faced Wanda, looking her in the eyes. She squinted hard at him, mouth set in a thin pale line, hands akimbo and purse slung on her elbow.

And then her face softened. Wanda smiled. And this time, the smile seemed genuine. Beautiful even, if she weren’t so damned mad at him. But dammit, the woman had lovely dimples and cute pouty lips. For the first time ever, Tyler saw her as a woman, and not as a high maintenance customer.

“No,” she said at last.

“No?” Tyler repeated, voice cracking as if he were a teenager asking out a pretty girl on a date.

Wanda took a step closer. He could smell her fruity citrus perfume.

“No,” she said again. “No.”

Truth was, Tyler didn’t even remember what she was saying no to. He shrugged. “Okay.”

And then the cute dimples returned, even more stunning the second time. “Unless you want to interrupt his happy time.”

“I never do,” Tyler said. He chuckled. The department felt even hotter for some dumb reason. He really wanted to pick up more hats, but he was busy checking out her dimples.

Wanda seemed to notice what he was looking at. She leaned up against his body, palms flat on his chest. So close, he could kiss her on the forehead. Any other woman, he might’ve liked that. But this was Wanda, the customer from hell, and closing time was around the corner.

Tyler kept telling himself that in his head. His other head, the one below the belt, wasn’t listening. Wanda’s body heat radiated on him. His boner nearly touched her stomach.

“Well then,” she said, her hot breath on his neck. “We have two options.”

“Just two?”

“I report you to your porno watching boss,” she said. “For being a bad employee.”

“What’s my other option?”

“You find a private place right now. And I punish you for being a bad boy.”

In the dressing room…

Not like it was much of a choice. If Tyler were getting fired, he wanted to go out with a bang.

In this case, quite literally.

He took Wanda by the hand, and then kicked aside hats as he led her to the fitting room around the corner.

“Just your luck, I have a condom,” Tyler said.

“Oh?” she said. “Planning on getting lucky? Or was it intended for a girlfriend?”

He pushed her into the first stall and closed the door behind him. “No girlfriend,” he said. “She left me last week.”

“So why do you have a condom?”

“I was hoping to get lucky with a coworker.”

“Oh, you are a bad boy,” Wanda draped her arms around his shoulders. And then she kissed him. Hard. She hurt his teeth, and then bit his lip. And then she relaxed into his arms and became more gentle.

Tyler’s heart raced against his ribcage, loud enough he swore Wanda could hear it. She held him in a death-grip. And then she positioned him away from the door, throwing him against the thin dressing room wall. The stalls shook with the force. For such a small woman, Wanda was quite strong. Much stronger than he imagined.

He struggled against her, which just seemed to make her fight back even more.

And then she pushed him down onto his knees. Tyler kissed her inner thighs. Then Wanda slipped her panties down to her ankles, and lifted a foot up onto the bench. Her pussy hair was trimmed very short, and shaped into a thin landing strip that pointed down to her clit. Up close, Tyler liked the way her pussy smell mixed with her perfume.

Wanda gripped him by the hair, and forced his head between her legs. Not like Tyler put up a fight. He willing went down on her. Licking her labia. Massaging her thighs and hamstrings with both hands.

She tugged on his hair, and he licked even faster. Her lips swelled and her clit popped out. Tyler steadied her with a hand on her ass cheek, and then shoved a finger inside her slit. He wiggled his finger about inside. Wanda clasped a hand around her mouth and moaned. His heart raced. Tyler felt light headed and giddy.

Somewhere in the back of his brain, he knew there were hats to pick up. And sweaters to board fold. And pants to hang up.

Not to mention the possibility of being caught, by either another customer or by his good-for-nothing manager.

“Sweety,” Wanda said. “You can do better.”

Tyler had a moment of panic. Was he doing something wrong? Did he need to switch techniques?

But the crazy smile on Wanda’s face reassured him, oddly. White teeth flashing, pink gums, half squinted eyes. She mussed with his hair.

And then he pressed another finger into her. Then a third. Wanda nodded, as if giving him a silent command. Tyler bunched up his fingers and shoved all four inside her.

She slouched forward, one hand pressed against the fitting room wall, and rotated her hips on his hand. Juices flowed into Tyler’s palm, and dripped down his arm. He pressed his thumb on her clit. Wanda squealed. Loud. Tyler’s heart raced even faster, more afraid of being caught all of a sudden.

The fear excited him. Something he didn’t expect.

Wanda pushed his hand out of her tunnel and away. Suddenly, he was disappointed the tryst was already over.

“Your turn,” she pointed at the bench.

Tyler obeyed. He stood, and unzipped his dress pants. When he didn’t go fast enough, Wanda growled at him and pulled his pants down for him. He never felt this humiliated in front of a girl. Not like this. Nor did he realize how exhilarating being humiliated made him feel.

Wanda pushed on his shoulders, and made him sit down. And then she got down on her knees.

“Is this for me?” she said, gripping his cock in one hand. But that didn’t sound like a question. More like a demand.

“Yes, ma’am,” Tyler said.

“Now, that’s a good boy,” said Wanda.

She opened her mouth wide, like she was about to swallow him. Except she didn’t. She just breathed on him. And then she stuck out her tongue. But she only licked at the tip.

“Please,” said Tyler.

“Please, what?” She tugged on his balls. “Want me to suck this thing?”

“Yes.” Tyler ran his fingers through his hair, enjoying how the pussy juices on his hand felt on his scalp. “Please.”

Wanda laughed. More like a snort. And then she tasted him with her lips. Slowly down she went, ever closer to the base. Tyler was afraid he’d pop his load early, the rate she was going. Wouldn’t take much more. But she was an expert. Only just enough pressure, for only so long. She denied him orgasm once by stopping. Then again with a pinch at his base.

She lapped at his sticky pre-cum. “You want to? Don’t you?”

“I want to be inside you,” Tyler said. Little more than a husky whisper. Suddenly, he was really thirsty. He knew there was a headache after this. He didn’t care.

“Where’s that condom?”

“Left pants pocket.”

Wanda searched the pocket. For a moment, he was afraid she’d take his wallet and run. Would’ve been easy, while he was vulnerable. But she only took the condom out of his pants. She tore the packet open with her teeth.

And then she spit on his cock, and slipped the condom over and down. Another spit on his shaft. Wanda licked and tugged on his balls once for good measure.

Then she stood up and turned around. She slipped off her tank top, giving him a wonderful view of the tattoo on her shoulder. Turned out, the blue fairy was giving the finger, something he’d never noticed until now.

Wanda reached behind her, spread her legs wide, and sat on his lap. She slipped him inside her. The weight of her body intensified every sensation. Her pussy felt warm and electric. She squeezed him with her tunnel, and rocked back and forth on him.

He massaged her hips and ass while she fucked him slowly. He could barely keep his head up. His entire body felt tense. Ready to explode.

And then she increased her motion. Shorter, faster strokes. The sounds of her skin slapping on his echoed in the tiny dressing room. Warm juice poured down his shaft and balls, all the way down to his butt.

She turned her head, looking at him over her shoulder, locks of dirty blond hair in her face.

He wrapped his arms around her, to feel her breasts and stomach. But she grabbed him by the wrists, and forced his hands down. Once again, he felt humiliated. She denied him the loving he wanted to give her. And that annoyed and turned him on at the same time.

Tyler had been more confused. Nor had he ever been this hot.

She pressed a hand to his chest. Then she fucked him relentless, not holding anything back. The bench squeaked and groaned under the pressure. He could barely breathe. His skin prickled with goosebumps and sweat. Wanda yelled out. If anybody were outside the fitting room door, they knew what was going on.

He shut his eyes tight. And then he popped his load.

He didn’t think he’d stop coming.

Wanda kept fucking him. Even when he told her to stop. Told he was done. Fucked him until he was too flaccid to stay inside her. She let him fall out of her.

She stood up, shaky on her feet. She brushed her hair out of her face. Tyler sat there, back against the wall, too drained to do much of anything.

“Well,” she said, “I guess you should clean up now.”

Tyler mumbled something. Even he didn’t know what he just said.

She pressed a finger on his lips. She smelled of sex and come. “Don’t worry sweety,” she said. “I’ll shop here again tomorrow night.”

“But…” Tyler said. He wiped his face with one hand. “But, what if I’m fired tonight?”

She squatted back down, face so temptingly close to his cock. She reached into his pants again and got out his cell phone. Then she made him unlock it, and she added her number to his contacts list.

“There,” she said. “If they fire you, I guess I don’t have much reason to shop here anymore.”


“Yeah, this store is total shit.” She winked at him. Then she sat on his lap again, arms wrapped around his neck. She kissed his ear. “You can do better than this.”

And then she kissed him on the mouth, gentle this time. Wanda slung her purse over one shoulder, and strutted out of the fitting room.

Afterwards, cleaning up and recovering the store was a breeze. His manager didn’t even notice what happened in the fitting room.

Not like Tyler planned on working at Humdinger’s much longer anyway. Now that he had Wanda’s phone number.


If you would like to purchase this story, you can find it at your favorite retailer.


Author: D. Anthony Brown

Indie writer and publisher. Among other jack-of-all-trade skills...

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