The first after-school job I ever had was as a stock boy and floor sweeper at the neighborhood variety store. Today we would probably call it a dollar store, but back then things were cheaper and it was sometimes known as "the dime store."
After I had worked there several months the manager trained me to operate the cash register. Purchases were not scanned in those days. The cashier looked at the price tag and entered the cost of each item on the keys of a big cash register. When everything had been entered you hit a large key and three things happened. The total was displayed at the top of the register, a bell chimed, and the cash drawer flew open.
One day the confounded cash drawer popped out and hit me right in the crotch. It didn't hurt, but it gave me an idea and became sort of a game. The customers had no idea what I was doing, but I calculated the distance from the register to my dick. I would often get hard in anticipation while ringing up somebody's purchases. Then I'd stand at exactly the right position, hit the Total key, and let the drawer zip forward and bump my boner.
Between customers I would stand around in the checkout , frequently aware of an erection and planning how hard to let the drawer hit it. If things were really dull and nobody was looking, I would rub my bulging fly against the edge of the counter-top.
I never climaxed. But occasionally, on a busy day and after several encounters with the cash drawer, I could feel a drop of juice slowly oozing through my dick and making a damp spot in my briefs.
One day a man gave me sort of a funny look and I decided it was time to abandon my cash drawer game. Perhaps things were getting obvious?
Regi
After I had worked there several months the manager trained me to operate the cash register. Purchases were not scanned in those days. The cashier looked at the price tag and entered the cost of each item on the keys of a big cash register. When everything had been entered you hit a large key and three things happened. The total was displayed at the top of the register, a bell chimed, and the cash drawer flew open.
One day the confounded cash drawer popped out and hit me right in the crotch. It didn't hurt, but it gave me an idea and became sort of a game. The customers had no idea what I was doing, but I calculated the distance from the register to my dick. I would often get hard in anticipation while ringing up somebody's purchases. Then I'd stand at exactly the right position, hit the Total key, and let the drawer zip forward and bump my boner.
Between customers I would stand around in the checkout , frequently aware of an erection and planning how hard to let the drawer hit it. If things were really dull and nobody was looking, I would rub my bulging fly against the edge of the counter-top.
I never climaxed. But occasionally, on a busy day and after several encounters with the cash drawer, I could feel a drop of juice slowly oozing through my dick and making a damp spot in my briefs.
One day a man gave me sort of a funny look and I decided it was time to abandon my cash drawer game. Perhaps things were getting obvious?
Regi
i have worked in stores like you have and we had those old type of cash resisters also. the drawer flew open and hit me right were it hurts once and that was all it took for me to learn to stand back so the drawer would not hit me in the groin. you were right about stopping when you did since a man gave you that look or maybe he saw some wet spots on your jeans. i wonder if he didn't also do that letting the cash drawer hit him on his dick is why he gave you that look like i know what your doing. thank you for telling about your great cash drawer experience. made me smile.
ReplyDeleteI was 16 and worked at a fast food place. Our registers were much to high to hit a sweet spot. But the counter where we put the orders together or assembled the food items, OH YEAH that was the perfect height to mash against. I can recall a number of times working there, having a semi or full-on boner. Some of my co-workers were kind of cute, or perhaps a hot teen customer came in which urged the rise in my Levis. We wore aprons so it was undetectable. I was just hoping my shift would end so I could go home and take care of it.
ReplyDeletedid the aprons really cover it up all the way? or did the apron have a bulge?
DeleteThese were the Bib-type aprons, with the string around the back of your neck and two strings at your waist. But we folded down the chest/bib portion a couple of times, until the only part that we used was around our waist. So there were 2 or 3 layers around your waist, NO Bulge!
DeleteI worked in a home-improvement store. My favorite thing was the machine that shook cans of paint to mix the colors. I could stand with my weenie touching the steel frame and get a hell of a buzz inside my slacks.
ReplyDeletedid that buzz inside your pants ever go off in your underwear?
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