References and Preferences
#18 of Hockey Hunk Season 6
References and Preferences
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Hello, and welcome to the Hockey Hunk! It's Monday and we have survived the weekend, and now it's time to slink back to work, and see what's going on amidst the denizens of Kirk City! I hope you enjoy this chapter, and I look forward to hearing your feedback on it!
As a special announcement, the next chapter will already be posted on Thursday, so remember to stay tuned!
Have a fun read!
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"Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaawn!"
"Is that good acting boss behavior, Rory?"
I finished my pleasurable yawn and smacked my lips and let my eyes open leisurely while coming into eye contact with a particular cougar standing next to me behind the main counter.
"Soon to be acting boss," I replied with a smile.
"Humph," Marge folded her arms over her cougarette bosom while giving me the glare.
"Well it is only 11 am, I have barely woken up yet, sweetie," I replied in a murmur, "the summer seems to make me rather nocturnal for some reason..."
"A creature of the night you claim to be now?" Marge raised her brow theatrically.
"Oh, just stayed up a bit too late, I suppose," I said, giving my neck a casual scratch as I said as much.
Marge rumbled.
"Hope you weren't playing around with an X-Box like our friend Mason," she stated, "I'm surprised he hasn't succumbed to carpal tunnel syndrome yet."
Oh I was playing with something alright, but you had to replace the joystick with a...a hockey stick...
Oh, God. Even the memory was threatening the structural integrity of my neat black work pants, while I kept smiling kindly to Marge and hoping to keep her eyes interested in my muzzle rather than my crotch.
"Uh, no, no, just...hanging around, I guess, not going to sleep..."I explained.
"Oh I know about that," Marge hissed, "Goggy is having one of his creative phases again."
That sounded ominous.
"Indeed?" I questioned kindly.
"Yep," she rumbled. "He keeps doing sketches and mixing paint and trying different shades and tint, it keeps him up way too late and he barely has the strength to go to work."
"Awww, keeping you up too?" I asked.
Marge winked.
"Not as much as I'd like to," she said, "you know, all those hormones..."
Her smile turned lecherous, but some incoming customers thankfully drew her attention away from me, or Goggy, and she unleashed a wave of smiles and greetings to the incoming shorts-clad fox and a rat.
"Welcome to the Albrecht Brothers!"
I took the distraction in the stride, smiling a little for the passing customers to be while I rolled my shoulders and relaxed a little. Standing around like this was a strain on the system, and much less a pleasant one than what could happen on a long sweaty Wednesday afternoon...
...and the night...
...and Thursday morning in the shower...
Hmmm. Sleepovers were never this much fun before, I thought, as an almost painful twinge coursed through the length of Rory Junior's curve. I had perhaps overdone it, alright, not just potentially, but definitely, considering that the renewed erection indeed felt a bit...ahem...sore.
Well what am I supposed to do, if Victor comes onto me, obviously feeling randy, and swinging his big tail end and saying that he's got a surprise for me...and...
...let's say that I didn't think that much about jockstraps in general, but now it was easy to decide that if you had a good bulge and a great ass, strapping it onto a skimpy piece of elastic cloth and rubber bands seemed not a bad idea at all.
"...then of course, he could also be experimenting with new recipes, too...I'd much rather have him mix cream sauces than turpentine..."
...yeah...creamy sauce spurting out of a thick -
Fuck, my mind was really in the gutter today, and I couldn't entirely blame Victor's sexual allure to it. Hadn't he said that the appetite seemed to be growing with improved availability...hmm. I could definitely see where he was coming from.
Coming...
Oh for God's sake, Rory! I was 28, not 15...
"Sounds nice," I said, "I wouldn't mind some good home cooking every now and then, myself."
Marge swiped my ankle with her tailtip.
"Still being lazy?"
"Well staying at home after the accident and with my friend did put a dent on my cooking motivation," I rumbled, "I guess I'll have to slowly get back to it. Make something nice and maybe freeze some of it for the next day..."
Marge chuckled.
"How very domestic of you, muffin," she chuckled, "you'll make a fine housewife yet!"
I swooned a little.
"Maybe one day," I sighed wistfully.
An incoming middle-aged Golden Retriever forced me to place my powers of charming in the use of the customer service industry, however, which was something of a relief.
"Hello!"
"Humm."
What a charmer. The dog placed a book down onto the counter and from its cover, a badger in a frilly dress stared wistfully out of a manorial window and towards the yard where a dashing shirtless otter was straddled on a horse. The title designated the book as "The Governess' Secret" and the author was of course one Adalmina Woolsworth.
"Something for the wife?" I smiled while scanning the book and spying the ring on the dog's finger.
"She has her summer holiday and she's bored," the long-suffering-sounding dog replied.
"This will keep her busy alright!" I chuckled. "That'll be 19.99, and will there be anything else?"
"Chocolates with praline raspberry filling," the dog sighed, "and exfoliating footbath salt..."
Sounds like the missus had sent the guy out with a whole bucket list of specific holiday needs to fulfill, which included wistful romance and other kinds of pampering.
I could live with some pampering...murr...
"Try the deli down the Boulevard," Marge added from the sideline, "they've got a lovely selection of chocolates."
The badger handed me a 20-dollar bill, which I dutifully put into the till, printed out the receipt and slipped the book into a red Albrecht Brothers carrier bag.
"Thank you for shopping, do remember that we also serve at the Stepford Center," I smiled happyhappily.
"Thanks" the Golden Retriever said before disappearing out of the shop in a flurry.
Marge was giggling about as soon as the customer was out of reasonable hearing distance.
"Now I want chocolate," she was purring, hers ears flicking cheerfully.
"Sorry, not my lunch hour yet, can't pop by the convenience store and leave the till deserted," I spoke seriously. "An empty store is a disgrace, as the 5th commandment
"Spoilsport," she swiped my tail with hers. "Depriving me of my feminine needs."
"You can send Mason on an errand," I said, "he's just getting bored downstairs since he re-arranged the shelves and the surprise baskets already."
"Oh I don't trust him to go on it, he'd just spend time wandering around listening to music," Marge said. "Probably has plugs on even now."
Hmmm...butt plugs...
*cough*
"You could tell him to do it stat," I suggested with a smile.
"But I like to be a nice boss...lead by kindness..." she answered dishonestly.
"Hmmm..." I rumbled, "Well it is preferable to being a slave driver..."
"You'll have to find your own management style, too, mind you," she told me, "you better do it fast, too, so that everyone can get used to it."
"Can't I just be me?" I pouted. "I'm not a bad guy as I am, am I?"
"No," she blurted, "but you have to remember that you'll have to be projecting a sense of authority not only to the staff but for the clients as well."
"And I'm not doing that yet?" I questioned, naturally standing a bit more upright, puffing out my chest a bit, shoulders going back, showing him a lot of front, just like a big guy should!
"Hmmm..." she rubbed her chin while observing my display of manly dominance with keen interest, and a dangerous purr was rising from her throat, "perhaps you'd have to do something about your attire..."
My ears bounced back and forth.
"You suggest I should break dress regulations?"
"Well, I don't know, maybe you could wear something a bit more...authoritarian..."
Really, now? What was she thinking? A uniform with rip-away pants? A leather harness and a cap?
Rory, no. Just, no.
"You don't say..." I managed.
"Perhaps a bow tie..." Marge spoke.
My eyes bulged.
"I'm not sure that's quite...2010's anymore."
"Or a bowler hat..." Marge added immediately.
"It's not 1910 either, I think," I said.
"So how about a suit and a tie?"
"I sell books, not used cars," I replied.
"I'd still like to see that happen, though..." Marge's lips curled into a smile.
"Me selling used cars?"
"No, you n a suit and a tie."
"Excuse me?"
My ears perked, and so did Marge's, turning from my direction to the side where a tiger was standing and looking at the two of us curiously. I wondered whether we'd been talking particularly our maybe ignored the guy for a long time, but he didn't seem too bothered, I thought. He simply stood there, looking at us mildly through a pair of spectacles, dressed in a light shirt and some knee-length shorts, since the weather outside was still definitely nice enough to warrant such apparel.
"Hello, welcome to the Albrecht Brothers!" Marge chimed. "How can I help you today?"
I smiled politely as I aligned myself with the cash register again, with Marge stealing this client, I'd better be ready to see for the other customers milling about the shop who might be appearing soon enough with their further summer shopping needs.
"I'd like to see the manager, Marge Pitt," the tiger said, "and I see that's you. Good day."
So he had another reason to be looking at Marge's chest, besides the you'knows located there alright.
"Yes, that's me!" Marge smiled pleasantly to the young guy. "How can I help you?"
"I'm here in regards to an open position with the Albrecht Brothers, I was wondering if I might have a talk with you about it."
"Oh yes, we have been advertising for a new shop assistant, yes," Marge nodded, sounding remarkably professional now.
"I was at your outlet at Stepford Center and the local manager, Mister Sladen, said that I should to meet you in person," the tiger said politely.
"Well, certainly, if you'd be working with us, of course," Marge said, "you did understand that the vacancy is at this downtown store?"
"Indeed I do," the tiger nodded. "Which is preferable to working at the mall, because this is much shorter way from where I live now. I just moved in."
"To study, I bet," Marge smiled.
"Yep," the tiger said, while extending his paw, "I'm Paul, Paul Lyndon."
"Not Barry, though," Marge giggled while taking his paw for a dainty squeeze.
I observed him, smirking a little, and saw a flash of humor in his eyes.
"No, but I presume you sell Thackeray here."
Marge let out a big purr and a chuckle.
"Let me guess, English 101?" she spoke knowingly.
The tiger guy maintained his composure, which was a feat in front of Marge, I gave him that.
"Pre-med, actually, " the tiger replied without a hitch.
"Ouch," Marge shook her head dramatically, "and usually I'm so good at spotting you...but I guess...hmmm...I suppose you haven't really started yet, because you are missing something."
"Excuse me?" now he sounded suitably mind-boggled by the remark.
"You aren't hauling around thick books on microbiology and anatomy, like all pre-meds I know," Marge chuckled. "Unless you planned to purchase some while you are here now..."
"I've got my books in order, thank you," the tiger said, "is there time now for us to speak, or should I reserve an appointment for later on?"
What a well-spoken boy. Neat, too, and kind of cute, with some tuffs of fluffy mane. He wasn't the muscled perfection that was Haakon, perhaps, or the muscle gut worship-prone Victor, but...he radiated youth, and youth is beautiful, was it not?
Humph. Seemed that at least some part of me was in an overdrive today. I better phone Victor and heckle him about it tonight, after work...possibly just in my boxers...
"Rory, you hold the fort," Marge told me, "Paul, this is assistant manager Rory Gliese."
"Hey!" I offered my paw, which the tiger took, giving it a reasonable squeeze.
"Hello," he said. "Paul Lyndon."
"Nice to meet you, Paul, I'm Rory," I smiled.
"I'll ask Mason to come up, he can take number one," Marge said as she locked the till, "come on, Paul, we can go to the back room and talk about the employment prospects, and then I'll have a talk with Rory and we'll see what happens."
"That's very good," he nodded, "thank you, Mrs Pitt."
"Oh do call me Marge..." she was purring as she walked over to the tiger's side and settled onto a stride with him, "we are very casual here..."
I watched them go for a bit, and chuckled to myself, quietly. Seemed that Marge was making a new friend as quickly as usually. If the guy had the dedication for pre-med, maybe he'd have what it took to stand behind a counter and ask for cash or credit, too. I doubt I could've ever done such a feat...Doctor Gliese in the house...hmmm...
Damn, that just made me think about Doctor Faye, now...and the combination of a white coat and a stethoscope with a green beret...ack!
I had just about finished serving a mongoose some paperbacks in a neat red bag by the time Mason wandered up from the downstairs section with the usual aloof expression over his mild muzzle. I smiled to him in greeting as he came to position next to me.
"Busy here?" he asked.
"No, not at all," I smiled, "not even if Marge made it sound like it, I bet."
"Yeah," his ears flicked as he spoke, "kinda."
"Well, it's the afternoon, school is in, everyone's still working," I said, "not too much traffic."
"Maybe we should be wandering out giving personalized service then," he said, "lol."
"I won't tell if you don't," I chuckled.
So we just stood there planted like mushrooms instead, me smiling courteously to anyone walking in, which were not numerous at this point, and tried not to get too bored, or, worse, too distracted with daydreams of Doberman body parts and a certain kind of an itching in my groin.
"So, been busy?" Mason asked.
I gave him a slightly surprised look, seeing his gentle face once again, while he looked at me with moderate curiosity.
"Not really, no," I said, "just been seeing friends and stuff. Nothing much."
But grrrrreat.
"Cool," Mason said, "that's nice."
"it is," I said, "how about you?"
"Well, school started again, obviously," he sounded indifferent about that, "so that's on again, and been spending some time with friends too, of course, going out and stuff. Though last night I was playing games with Haakon again."
Uhh...Rory Junior was going to need a cold shower for all the ideas that statement could spark.
"Oh?" I risked it.
"Yeah, lol, we kinda lost the track of time at it."
Well he seemed to be a bit bleary-eyed...made me wonder if he was favoring his rear end, too...
Oh, gosh.
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Thank you for reading my story! I hope you had an interesting time, and I look forward to reading your feedback! Do remember that all votes, faves and watches will help others to find these stories to enjoy as well!
See you on Thursday for the next chapter!
Cheerio!