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Preface
4:50am. Saturday.
"Ah Fuck" he sighed as he stretched, reaching for the vibrating cell on his bed side table adjacent a mostly full pint glass — he was late. “I don’t have time this morning” he sighed as he jumped to his feat and grabbed the glass. He had found flushing while emptying the glass was most effective, part of his morning routine, he cranked the hot shower and rinsed the glass.
5:00am.
In one of that fast paced not sure how you got it done mornings he was showered, dressed, and in the kitchen spreading jam on his toast.
"Morning Mom."
"Morning Walter." She said with a smile. She was the only person who regularly called him Walter and he liked it for some odd reason. It only seemed to be his name when she said it. Wally... Wal, that’s what everyone else would normally use.
"Have a good day at work.” he heard from behind him.
"Tha…..” by the time he turned she was out the door.
5:25am.
Click.. He pulled the key from his ignition and looked up at the Marson & Sons building – one of the last of its kind. Most stores like it lost out to the big chains or were bought up and renovated. Work. Or to be more accurate the thing a 20 year old still living at home does when he doesn't get into college. He strolled across the parking lot fighting the frigid wind. It was mid January and 15 degrees out, the best combination to make him remember he hated winter mornings.
He hung his jacket in his locker and placed his radio on his belt. "where?" he thought to himself.. "where the hell..." he dug around the pile of junk at the bottom of his locker.. "There it is.." he pinned his name tag on his shirt. Walter Flynn - Manager. He made his way past the other workers, giving each a smile and nod watching as they do their normal Saturday morning motions. He pushed thru the large oak door on his way to mens clothing and shoes.
6:08am
Mia stood behind her cash register. "My father can't do laundry" she thought to herself as she tried to stretch out her shirt. She didn't make the full transition to college student and finds herself living at home and going to the local community college. A community college that her parents are making her pay for on some moral high ground that just makes her annoyed with them and it even more. Pretty?, yes, and she knew it. She stood around 5 foot 5 with a lean build balanced by her front and backsides – both of which were full, firm, and gravity defying. Wavy red hair came to her shoulders and framed the most gorgeous face; green eyes pierced anyone who caught them. Out of the entire staff the only one not to make an ass out of themselves jumping all over her was Walter.
It isn't Walter’s lack noticing, he had, but his own lack of self esteem didn't help matters. He never dated, and if the idea of him dating was ever brought up to people he knew they would laugh and just echo 'Walter doesn't date'. This strange effect made him not see himself in a relationship and this internal feeling had a way of turning the ladies away. He once coined this as his own self-fulfilling prophecy. Now he isn't unattractive by any means. He is about 5-9 and 145 pounds. With that slight surfer guy messy black hair. Dark brown eyes sit on sharp features. Clean shaven, slightly nerdy, but with a crisp white smile. His body? Muscular but extremely lean, clothing hid his smooth cut frame from the world but jeans or dress pants flaunted his firm full ass. He was aware of things about himself, so under tight boxer briefs Walter’s true form sat, soft — eight thick inches. Hard? Somewhere north of eleven inches. He never got hard in public… he faked hating pools to stay out of swimwear.. and wore two layers in the high school locker room to hide his inches. In public he was embarrassed, in private, empowered.
He tried not to think what could possibly be wrong with himself to have such duality. Why when alone something deep inside himself awoke. He remembers the first time he “milked himself”, that’s what he called it… “his milking”. His two times a day ritual, which became the way he kept it under control. Mornings were important, his “morning milk” - it set the pace for his day. He used to perform in bed but cleanup became problematic forcing a move of his sessions to the shower, 10 of his 15 minutes showers where for his meat. “His meat” - he never had these thoughts around other people… but when alone it was the first thing to crept into his mind… “his milk… his thick horse milk…”. “Grow” it would be the first words he would say when alone, and he would, like some snake charmer commanding his pet his meat would expand and unfold at his command.
Night, that was his time, he learned to do all his homework in the den… so when he retired to his bedroom around 11 he would be left alone. His night session would take around two hours, three if he missed the morning. He once missed a night and morning commanding a four hour session, he filled all three glasses that night. His glasses, he ordered them online… clear pint glasses. He moved to the glasses when towels became problematic — it only took that one time his mother had mentioned an odd smell for him to double bag and trash them all.
4:45pm
"The store will be closing in 15 minutes, please make your way to the check out counters and thank you for shopping with Marson & Sons." Walter flicked the large intercom switch, hung the phone on the wall and sighed. Closing Fridays and opening Saturday's made him miss two sessions, he closed his eyes and leaned his head into the wall next to the phone… "Grow.." a small voice rang in his mind, his lips parted as a deep animalistic sigh escaped and a burning deep within began to form.
The ancient wall phone bell rang — silencing his inner voice. "Yes?"… "Men's department - pickup - register 4."
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