Jenna blushed when she read the shift schedule. 

She’d worked with Ray for years. Lifting boxes, driving lifts, ripping tape, dusting shelves. The life of the night crew at the warehouse was quiet and simple, catching up on any leftover work the day crew left behind.  Most of the year the day crew would fall behind consistently. But as autumn came and orders slowed down through December, the day crew would catch up and the night crew shifted into maintenance mode. Staffing was reduced to just two people per night. Tonight, she reconfirmed and blushed again, her shift mate was going to be Ray. 

It wasn't a glamorous job. Cleaning and inventory was the name of the game while conversation passed the time. Lipstick was excessive, but with Ray the extra effort kept their banter charged at a level that kept working together more interesting. She chose the pinkest red lipstick she owned and clocked in.

“So how many do you guess?” He tapped a box on the bottom shelf. 

“Six at least. Maybe ten,” Jenna guessed blindly. She didn’t even know what was supposed to be in the box. He scanned the item with the barcode reader. It beeped and displayed a number on the back. 

“Nope. 12. You failed.”

She uncapped the marker. “12 what?” 

“12 less fucks I give about inventory.” 

She laughed. He took the marker and wrote as big as he could: MINUS 12 FUCKS. He capped the marker and handed it back.“I hate inventory.”

“And it hates you,” she remarked. She tucked the marker into her shirt pocket over her left tit. He smiled at her from up on the ladder.

“That’s the best place for that, you know,” he commented.

”Always,” she said with a grin. 

“And it’s true every time. How many do we have left?”

“Tits?”

“Shelves.”

She flipped the page over on the clipboard. “6 shelves plus the wire spindles.”

“Again?”

“Yes. That’s what ‘annual’ means. It repeats every year.”

He sighed. “I vote wires next. They’re faster than these damn boxes. But first I need a jiggle.”

”Already?”

“It’s been a long day and I need a pick-me-up. The only way I’m coming down from this ladder is if you give me a jiggle. We’re the only two here, what the hell else is there to do?”

“Besides our jobs?”

He pointed to the box they just counted. MINUS 12 FUCKS. “Okay, one jiggle.” She took a step back, gave a joking curtsy and shimmied her shoulders. Her tits jiggled. “Better?”

“It needs work.” He climbed down the ladder. “Has anyone else seen the jiggle?”

“Nobody else asks. Wires now?”

“Hang on,” he insisted, pulling her gently back by one arm. “If you’re ever gonna show somebody else the jiggle, it’s gotta be good.” 

She soaked in his touch like a sponge. They’d been flirting since they met, but it was silly stuff. Little remarks here, sly hand touches here and there. Once he’d accidentally brushed up against her boob, and she let him. But only last week had she started ‘the jiggle’. Friday had been a particularly boring night of counting bolts and washers. Just to be silly, she’d surprised him around the corner and jiggled her tits as her shift ended and his began. Catching him off guard was half the fun. She smiled remembering how he’d stared speechlessly after her as she waved and signed off for the night. Every night since she’d repeated the ritual to the point Ray got excited to turn the corner during a shift change.  

But rarely did he touch her. She felt acutely aware of his gentle grasp on her arm as he posed her in front of him. “When you jiggle,” he explained jokingly, “you’ve gotta make it count. Like this.” He demonstrated, exaggerating the shifting of his shoulders until she laughed. “Your turn.”

“You only get one jiggle per night,” she teased. “I’ll practice at home.”

“Practice is half the fun. Please. Please?” 

She smiled shyly. Clipboard still in hand, she gave in with a grin and shimmied again. Her tits shook harder this time and the marker fell out of her shirt pocket. She blushed again as a rush of secret excitement hardened her nipples beneath her bra. “I guess that means it worked,” she considered. 

“Totally. Even the marker is impressed.” He picked up the marker and held it out for her to take it. 

Time seemed to pause in the sudden quiet between them. His kind blue eyes were always so compelling. The muscle definition in his arms always held her attention. Just him standing there was a sexy distraction and she wondered…

“My hands are full,” she said quietly, clipboard in one hand and a pen in the other. “Maybe just put it in my pocket for me?”

He hesitated. Then he eyed the writing on the box they’d just inventoried one more time. 

Fuck it, he thought. And he slowly slid the marker into her breast pocket, pressing the capped tip gently against her tit as it tucked in. She closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip slightly. 

His kiss was soft at first, their mouths pressed gently against each other, just feeling the tension between them. Relishing it. Tempting it. Then he paused and pulled back. 

If they went any farther, they could never go back.

In silent agreement, Jenna pressed against him, sucking passionately at his mouth. The clipboard clattered to the ground. 

No regrets. 

He tugged greedily at her shirt and pants, exploring her body through her dusty clothes. She untucked her t-shirt and his hands slid up under it, grasping her tits through her bra. He pressed her back against the shelf and unclasped her bra.  He grasped her bare tits in his strong hands, pinching her nipples between his rough fingers. She gasped at the sensation, kissing him harder and faster. 

She unbuckled his belt that pressed against her waist, unzipped his pants and slid her hands into his boxers to explore his hard cock. Her body already trembled as her senses heightened. Goosebumps raised on her skin as she pumped his cock in her hand. Ray grabbed her ass and pulled her closer. Everything about her felt new but familiar all at once. So many times he’d undressed her with his eyes. Now the more clothes he yanked off her body, the more beautiful she seemed. Her tits were more full and plump than he’d imagined. Her ass was more round and curvy. Her pussy was more delicate and soft. 

Once both of them were naked except for their shoes, Ray bent her forward and grasped her hips from behind. He spread her pussy and thrust into her, no hesitation, pumping with all the pent up sexual desperation from all those years of late night flirting and the jiggles—gawd, those spectacular tits!—had in store. In and out. In and out. The more she moaned, the more he fucked her like a hungry engine. 

“Fuck me!” she cried, grasping clumsily onto the ladder in front of her. “Fuck me hard!”

He thrust in harder. The shelf shook and shivered. “OH GODDD I’M GONNA…I’M GONNA CUM!”

“Wait for me!” Ray called. “I’m close—oh fuck! Now! Fuuuuuck!”

Her pussy quivered around his pulsing cock as they came together. Her legs shook and he grasped her hips tighter. Their cries of passion echoed around the warehouse, ceiling to floor, wall to distant wall until they collapsed into a panting, sweaty, spent heap on the floor. 

Between breaths, Jenna fumbled for the marker that had come loose in the shuffle. On the nearest box she scribbled something, tossed the marker and snuggled into a comfortable nook against Ray’s body. He glanced at the box and smiled.

1 FUCK.