Rocker (Rockstar BBW Romance) by Laura Demare

1
     
    “April, I need you for a second,” Kenny’s nasal voice came from aisle 8. I sighed. I looked around for help. It was almost 3am. The store was a ghost town, I was alone with Kenny, and you can bet he knew it.
     
    “ Ap-ril,” he said in a sing-song tone, “I need you.” I headed toward the cold beer section. That’s where he always tried to corner me. I shuffled slowly and he grew agitated quickly, “Move your fat butt, April. I don’t have all night.”  He knew he could get away with it. He knew I needed this job. I slowed down a bit.
     
    “April!” Kenny called out as I rounded the corner down aisle 8. There he was all six feet, three inches of pot-bellied, lumbering, 47-year-old, perv. He was bent over the beer. His crack was showing. He straightened slowly and stiffly with his back arched. “Oh, there you are.” he said, looking directly at my breasts. They weren’t that much, but I guess they were enough for Kenny.
     
    “What’s this?” he asked, pointing to a six pack of beer with only 5 in it.
     
    “Uh, 5-pack?”
     
    Kenny’s dull eyes flared to life briefly, this was not going to be pretty.
     
    The oppression of badly needing to keep a job is the worst. I guess I was lucky to have a job. I’m not good at getting jobs. I don’t think companies like to hire people my size. It’s discrimination, but how could I ever prove it. Point is, I had to keep this job.
     
    I couldn’t afford to miss even one paycheck. I couldn’t pay my bills as it was. My car was eating all my money and I needed it to get to work. There’s no public transportation in Placerville, California at night. Worst part of it was, I had barely managed to get the old grey Accord into work on that night.
     
    My 99’ Honda had almost killed me coming to work. I had been in the middle of Route 50, cars whizzing past me, when my little car had had another coughing fit. Whatever was wrong with it was getting worse. Every once in a while, I would press on the gas and the engine would just sputter, stall, and then eventually come to life and take off again. Luckily no one rear ended me before the engine finally caught and I made it in to work.
     
    I was a desperate, lonely girl. I didn’t have an extra dollar to spend on that car. None of my friends or family had an extra dollar to help me out either. What had really set me behind was the last 800 dollars I’d spent to get the car to pass its emission test. I couldn’t even afford groceries for the month. How could I go to my mechanic again? How could I tell my abusive night manager to take this job and shove it?
     
    “I don’t know how many times I have to go over it,” Kenny was saying when I came out of my worry-filled daze. “If you keep selling single beers to these bums, I’m going to let you go.”
     
    I kept my own mouth shut even though I didn’t think Kenny had the authority to fire me. The grocery store is called Ben’s Food Place because it belongs to Ben. Ben does all the hiring and firing as far as I could tell. Kenny is Ben’s nephew, but I still don’t think he had the authority to let me go on the spot.
     
    “Now, fill up all those five packs and get back up to your station.”
     
    Ug, his breath was bad.
     
    How did I dig myself in so deep in my short life time? Was it bad karma from a past incarnation? Was I just stupid?
     
    I was fat as I’ve ever been, as broke as ever and there were no decent jobs within 50 miles of Placerville. Not for me at least. If I could get a few hundred dollars together, and the car running good, I would pack up and go down to San Diego and live with my sister. She’s barely scraping by, too; but at least I could have a selection of jobs to choose from and public transportation at night.
     
    I bent over the beer cooler and began to quickly tidy them up. Then out of nowhere, I felt Kenny rub up against me from behind. This was the worst assault yet. I swear I could feel his little erection spear me