Rest after work
The bus came to a halt at the stop. Getting off, I found myself in front of a huge shopping mall. I was scheduled to work a shift at one of the clothing stores here until evening. It was my first time here, and it took me a few minutes to find the right sign. Finally locating it, I headed straight for the checkout counter.
"I'm here for work," I said to the girl who was ringing up a receipt.
"Knock on that door," she said, glancing towards the back of the hall.
I was let in by the manager—a young girl named Nastya, about five years older than me. I'm only eighteen. While she was entering my details into the logbook, I couldn't help but cast an
appraising glance at her. Her figure was slender and toned, with neat, round breasts and a firm, athletic butt. Her dark hair with blue streaks gave off a fresh spring scent. And her voice... her quiet, velvety voice was impossibly sweet.I ended up closing the shift with manager Nastya. There were no more customers. After tidying up, I leaned against the checkout counter.
"Hey, are you in a hurry to go anywhere after work?" Nastya asked wearily.
"No, why?" I replied, apprehensively wondering if I was being assigned urgent work.
"Don't you want to stay a little longer? Unwind after a hard day?" Her fingers gently slid over my wrist.
Understanding her hint, I just silently nodded.
After locking the store doors, we went into the back room. Just as I marked the end of my shift on the sheet, I turned around and saw her pulling her t-shirt off over her head. I froze in hesitation, while she, with her back to me, was already unbuttoning her jeans. Remembering her offer, I stepped forward and hugged her from behind, my palms naturally settling on the firm curves of her hips. She turned around, and her fingers wove into my hair, pulling my face to her lips.
We met in a hot, deep kiss. Our tongues danced, and our breaths mingled into one. She hurriedly pulled my t-shirt off, and I, barely tearing my lips from hers, whispered:
"Can we do this here? What about the cameras?"
"They don't work, broke down last week," her answer came as a seductive whisper while her lips slid along my neck.
Those words were the signal. I shed all my clothes, then, easily lifting her, sat her on the edge of a long table. My fingers slipped under the thin fabric of her panties, removing them. She grabbed my hair again and pulled me to her, between her legs. I was captured by her slender thighs, and she squeezed them, not letting me escape. I plunged into her wet flesh, surrendering to the rhythm dictated by her body. Twice I tried to pull back to catch my breath, but she, lost in pleasure, only dug her fingers deeper into my hair, pressing me closer. Her body writhed on the table, low moans growing louder until finally her hips trembled in a sweet spasm, and a hot, fragrant stream gushed onto my face.
"Wow... Incredible... All the tiredness is just gone," she exhaled, still lying on the table, her chest rising and falling with her rapid breathing. "Thank you."
"Gotta please the boss," I smirked, wiping my face with her t-shirt, not paying it any mind.
While she was recovering, I managed to put on a condom and stand between her spread legs. My erect member pressed against her wet, still pulsating mound.
"Hey! What are you doing?! Not without that!" she sharply propped herself up on her elbows, alarm flashing in her eyes.
"What do you mean? You're the one who suggested unwinding," I didn't understand.
"We already unwound. Sorry, but I wasn't planning on fucking."
"So, I ate you out, and that's it?" disappointment sounded in my voice.
"Well, yeah. Don't tell me you didn't like it," her velvety voice became tender, and her fingers gently stroked my cheek.
Bitterness washed over me. I had taken the intimacy only as foreplay, as a pass to the main event. And now I was being used, like some boy, given a blowjob and sent on my way. I looked at her reproachfully, but, lowering my gaze, I saw my member stubbornly pressing against her tender pussy. Desire overpowered reason.
I firmly grabbed her hips and thrust myself into her sharply. From her lips escaped not so much a scream as a deep, muffled moan, mixing pain and unexpected pleasure. I pressed my lips to her mouth, stifling any possible protests, and began rhythmic, insistent movements. At first, her body tensed in resistance, but after a few moments, she gave in. Her fingers dug into my back, leaving hot streaks on my skin, and her hips began to meet my thrusts on their own. I pressed my lips to her neck, and my palms greedily squeezed her firm breasts.
The faster I moved, the quieter her moans became—she was running out of air, and the scratches on my back grew deeper. Feeling the climax approaching, I lowered my hands to her rounded buttocks, helping myself, making the table creak under our bodies. And then, in the long-awaited moment, I pressed into her with all my might, sinking to the very base, and with a muffled groan, I came, after which I collapsed onto her, breathing heavily.
"Asshole, I said I didn't want to!" her voice held reproach, but not anger.
"Don't care. I'm not some errand boy you can use and kick out."
"If it wasn't enough for you, you should have said so! I would have sucked you off, but you didn't have to rape me!" she tried to push me off.
"And who raped you? You didn't seem to mind, you even stopped resisting," I smirked, pressing closer.
"Alright, fine, come on, get up," she said now without irritation, with a light, forgiving smile.
I froze in silent shame. She, not understanding, ran her fingers inside herself, brought them to her nose, and froze in horror.
"Are you completely insane!? What is this!?"
"Sorry... Looks like it broke..."
"'Looks like'?! You came inside me!" her whisper was deafening, like a shout.
I stood, not knowing what to say. She looked at me, sighed heavily, and asked:
"Well then, if I get pregnant, will you become the father?"
"Yeah, I wouldn't mind a wife like you," I tried to lighten the mood, feeling like an idiot.
"What am I, a dog, for you to claim me like that?" hurt flashed in her eyes.
"No, of course not. Sorry," I lowered my gaze.
"Alright... Go on, you stud," she unexpectedly whispered, turning and getting into position on the edge of the table, leaning on it.
Everything inside me flared up again, and the feeling of guilt drowned in a wave of desire. I reached for a new condom, but she stopped me:
"What's the point now? It's all inside already. And if there were any diseases, I'd have caught them already."
Reeling back, I heavily collapsed onto the chair behind me. She, exhausted, sank to the floor.
"Asshole... Why... so rough?" she exhaled, struggling to catch her breath.
"You were squeezing so sweetly, I just couldn't stop," quietly, with an intoxicating feeling of satisfaction.
"Asshole," she exhaled softly, throwing her head back.
We silently looked at each other, and only after a couple of minutes, when our breathing had somewhat evened out, I asked:
"Shall we head out?"
"Yeah, let's. I've had enough for today," she said wearily, not opening her eyes.
I got up and started gathering the clothes scattered on the floor. Desire was still pulsing in my member, and, deciding on one last adventure, I turned to her:
"Listen... I'm still hard."
"What? No, take care of it yourself, I can't anymore," she shook her head, her voice sounding exhausted.
"Maybe just take it in your mouth? Just once, and I'll leave you alone," my request held a plea.
When the familiar tension in my lower abdomen became unbearable, I gently freed myself from her lips and, with a low groan, released hot streams of semen onto her. The cum splattered her chin, neck, and stained the dark strands of hair on her chest. I stood, breathing heavily, watching as she, still on her knees, tried to catch her breath, her body painted with the traces of our passion.
"Get dressed and leave. I'll clean up myself later," her voice sounded muffled. Without looking at me, she got up and, staggering, lay down on the sofa in the corner of the room.
I glanced around the room, looking for something to wipe myself with, but in my clouded mind, I found nothing better than her jeans lying on the floor. Quickly wiping myself with the inside of the fabric, I pulled on my clothes and headed for the exit. On the threshold, I turned around.
The room looked like a battlefield after a fight: a wet t-shirt and pants with dried stains on the floor, the table and part of the floor gleaming with smeared semen. And in the center of this chaos, on the sofa, lay she—tired, disheveled, with dried white streaks on her skin, staring at her phone screen.
"Bye, my bitch," I quietly threw out, knowing she could hear, and gently closed the door behind me.