Hot Shopgirl's Top-Shelf Romps with Elderly Boss

When tantalizing 18-year-old Tasha takes a summer job at the local grocery store, she knew the elderly manager was a bit of a groper—but the hot teen didn't realize how perverted the old codger actually was, and she has a lot of fun finding out. More dirty goings-on from the pen of filth-meister DF Darke, as young and old go at each other with no inhibitions.

Extract
Mr. Munkton ushered me through to the back, his hand gently resting on my lower back, slipping slyly to my bottom as I passed through the doorway.
We were in his office. It smelled moldy. There was a desk with a computer. A step ladder stood next to a shelf filled with box files. A wall planner was pinned up behind the desk, dotted with colored markers. A calendar depicting pin-ups in states of undress hung on the wall. Miss July was a partly dressed rural girl with big boobs, displayed on a haystack. I noticed that the 7th of July—today—had the letter “I” written in it: interview, I guess.
Mr. Munkton locked the door and said, “Make sure we have privacy, eh?”
I shivered slightly, and a rush of something—excitement?; repulsion?—ran through me, coming to rest in a simmering state right between my thighs.
The situation was laced with disgustingly delicious potential: me, a sexy, blonde 18-year-old; him, a scrawny, smelly, and quite ugly old man.
Never the twain shall meet, I thought (apart from at our genitals!)
He leaned on the desk, looked me up and down again and said, “So, Tasha, you look delicious. You have lovely, long legs, a sexy figure.”
He was eyeing me. Gawping, looking at my tits, my legs. All the places he shouldn’t have been looking at during an interview.
“Sit down, won’t you, you gorgeous young thing,” he said, sitting himself.
I sat, crossed my long, toned legs, made sure my short dress hitched up my thighs to display by toned pins. His eyes got even wider, and he made a wet sound with his mouth. He leaned over the desk to look down at my legs. He actually did that, would you believe.
Brazen, I thought.
I smiled, though; a big, white, glamorous smile. And I flicked my long, blonde hair and fluttered my eyelashes.
He leaned back a little. “Now, Tasha, sexy girl, why do you want to work for old Mr. Munkton?”
“Well, Mr. Munkton, I’m very much interested in retail, and—”
“Is it because I’m a handsome stud” he said, “whose makes your knickers hot every time you think about me?
I giggled. Oddly, my knickers were getting quite hot.
I flirtatiously said, “That’s part of the reason, of course.”
He laughed again. Showed off his dirty teeth.
“You any good with heights, love?”
“I think I’m all right.”
“You’ll be standing on step ladders, you see.”
“I think I can cope with that.”
“I’ll be holding it, of course; make sure you don’t fall, eh?”
“How chivalrous of you,” I said in a flirty way.
He cackled in a filthy way, clapped his hand, and said, “Let’s give you a test.”
He got up and came round to my side of the desk. He was too close, and I leaned back, slightly intimidated, but quite intrigued at the same time. He told me to “get up that step ladder,” pointing at the frame. I stood and as I did, my dress rode up my thighs. It was astonishingly short in the first place, so the hem really was inches from my knickers when I stood. I wiggled it down, which gave Mr. Munkton a little thrill, no doubt.
He looked up at me, his piggy little eyes blinking, his big pink tongue licking at his lips. And without warning cupped by boobs.