Literature
My Coworker is a Fart Model
A fart story between a shift lead at Subway, and a mischevious girl with ulterior motives at work.
All characters are 18+, as always. This story contains (F) farting, lap-farting, face-farting, and heavy mentions of wet farts.
Greg wasn't sure how the subway he managed was still open. Tucked between a laundromat and a karate dojo, it caught maybe forty customers on a good day and half that on a Tuesday. Greg had been working the closing shift for eight months, long enough to memorize the pattern of dead time: 2 to 4 PM, when even the school kids didn't wander in.
Being a shift lead was an easy job in his opinion, with an easy-to-remember routine. Get to work on time, wear your nametag, tuck in your polo, help the lunch staff get out on time, and turn off all the equipment before leaving. Then the real managerial tasks, like counting inventory on Sundays, trying to reach sales goals, training new members, all light work for him. The store owner, who everyone called Tommy, knew this
