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I flipped another page of the magazine lazily. It was far too hot to be stuck at work, and the shitty little box fan on the floor wasn’t doing nearly enough to help the situation.

“God I’m so fucking bored!” I shouted to the relatively empty shop, slumped over the counter.

“Careful now,” called Hailey from somewhere in the back room, “the Bible thumpers will hear you!”

I scoffed loudly at my co-worker; for one thing, the entire county of this back wood hick town was at the Peach Cobbler Festival over in Landsdown all weekend. Nothing got between these rednecks and their summer fair; it was almost a religious observation for them.

Then, of course, there were the actual, literal religious observations that kept the majority of them away. Or so they all pretended.

The phone rang out loudly and I reached to answer it with the languid urgency of a hungover ground sloth.

“Dirty Dan’s Dildo Depot, home of the world famous $5 footlong special; five bucks off every foot of dildo all summer long. How can I help you?”

“Y’all open t’marrow?” said the gruff voice of a local bean farmer I knew to be Gus Johnson. Gus was a regular. Gus’s wife did *not* know this; none of the wives did. Or they all looked the other way.

“Gus, you know that we are,” I chided, drawing circles in the air next to my head with a finger for Hailey’s amusement as she peeked around the corner.

*Click*

“And good afternoon to you too, dick hole,” I said, slapping the cordless handset back into its stand.

“Gus again, eh?” my companion called again from the back, having resumed her unpacking of the inventory order.

“Every weekend,” I replied with the dull enthusiasm of a man forced to watch paint dry.

“What’s his problem, anyway?” she asked. I heard a box hit the ground, and she cursed loudly.

“You alright?” I asked over my shoulder. She made a reassuringly affirmative sound. “Yeah, I don’t know. You know how these dudes are; every single one of them addicted to this stuff, and exactly zero of them willing to admit it.”

“Well,” she said, stepping out from the storeroom with a clipboard held toward me, “Jesus really is a hell of a drug I guess. Sign this for me?”

I took the offered cartage record, scratching my name across the bottom of the form and returning it to the diminutive little redneck emo who worked the store with me most days. She insisted that she was a ‘scene kid’, but the lack of available alternative outfitters nearby meant that black t-shirts and black box dye were as good as she could manage. It wasn’t much, but she stuck out like a sore thumb in these parts; anything that wasn’t a dress on a woman was decried as scandalous in town.

And no, nothing ever happened between us. I didn’t look enough like whoever Gerard Way was.

“You going to the peach thing at all?” I asked idly, still flipping through a shockingly out of date problem of BombShells Monthly.

She looked up at me over her phone, slumped in the rotting old chair that served as our break area behind the counter; her eyes rolled so hard that I feared she’d detach a retina.

“I’d rather get kicked in the box” she said sarcastically.

“I’m sure that could be arranged,” I mused, marveling at the centerfold pullout of the vintage problem in my hands.

“You wish,” she laughed, idly kicking a heavily booted foot in the air in boredom.

The door to the shop dinged loudly; we both craned our necks to see who it was, but the stacks of sex toys and shelved DVDs hid the newcomer from view. Hailey turned back to look at the globular security mirror affixed to the ceiling in the back corner of the long, narrow shop.

“Shit!” she hissed, slinking to the ground behind the counter like she’d seen a ghost.

“What the…Hailey, Jesus,” I stammered, scrambling to avoid having my toes crushed as she crawled on all fours back into the storage room she’d only just emerged from. “Hailey where are you…” She peeked back around the corner, pointing conspiratorially at the large mirror on the wall, angled to let us see most of the shop from behind the counter.

I squinted, hard, still not sure Hailey’s reaction was warranted, even if the customer wasn’t our usual type; instead of a burly farm hand in denim overalls, as I might have expected, a woman in a yellow sundress covered in little white daisies moved through the store at a glacial pace. I looked back to Hailey, still on the ground in the room behind me, to shrug my shoulders. She might have recognized the woman, but I couldn’t place the brunette’s face to save my life. There was nothing for it.

“Welcome to Dirty Dan’s!” I called out, trying to sound friendly. In the two summers I’d worked here, she was the closest thing to a woman I’d seen walk through the door. The figure in the mirror looked around, orienting herself to the sound of my voice.

“Hello?” she called back, turning the corner of a rack of fake leather harnesses and spotting me out. Her hands smoothed the front of her dress nervously as she approached.

“Hey, hi there,” I said with what I hoped was a warm smile, “anything I can help you with?”

“Well,” said she said nervously, trying hard to pretend she wasn’t fighting a mighty urge to look around her, “I, ummm, thought you could…” She gave into her curiosity and let herself see her surroundings properly; the posters of topless women, the racks of rental movies on flimsy wire shelves behind me, the giant motorized blowup cock turning slow circles in the air above us on its tether. I imagined it was all a bit much for a girl like her.

But what a girl she was. Rosy cheeks and a wide band of freckles were framed by wavy tresses of brown hair, and I threw myself into a weak moment of dreaming about her big brown eyes staring into mine. She was built in a way that the local farm boys affectionately referred to as ‘corn fed’; not overly curvy, but in no danger of blowing away in a breeze either. I’m not sure the sundress could have fit her any better if it had tried. I wanted desperately to see underneath it.

“First time?” I asked, hoping to snap her free of her speechlessness. She treated me to a wide, if nervous, smile.

“Yes. Yes! It is,” she said, still trying to work up the nerve not to run out the door. Her hands fidgeted at her waist. “I was just, umm, well…I was hoping you might be able to help me with a little something?” The lazy drawl of her accent was like a cool glass of sweet tea on a Sunday morning, or whatever other hideous cliché you’d like.

“Well I’ll certainly try,” I offered, trying to slide the dirty magazine I’d been reading off the counter unnoticed.

“Well I just thought maybe y’all had some, uhhh…” her nerve was failing her quickly, “Oh gosh, I feel so silly!”

“Is it the dick balloon?” I asked, pointing above us at the phallic zeppelin buzzing along its inexorable flight path. She looked up, laughing sweetly at the absurd blimp, covering her nose demurely with a hand when a brief snort escaped. It was the cutest little oink I’d ever heard.

“Oh goodness!” she chuckled, “now that’s funny!” I was elated that I’d banished her nervous reluctance, but still didn’t recognize her from any of the other 20-something girls in the area. “I just need something and thought this was the kind of place that might be able to help.”

“Well,” I offered, gesturing broadly at our surroundings, “we’ve got plenty here, and I can order whatever we don’t have. What do you need? A toy?” I imagined that a little electric nightstand friend might be what she was after, but her blush insisted otherwise. She shook her head insistently, embarrassed at the wondered.

“No, gosh! I couldn’t do that; what if mama found it? Oh Lord, she’d smack me black and blue!” Her eyes lit again on the rack of rental movies behind me, “I think something like that?” she said, pointing vaguely behind me.

“A movie?” I said, happy to have something to work with, “Yeah, sure. Red stickers are five bucks a week, yellows are two a day. Anything on the top is pretty new.” It began to dawn on me that trying to flirt with what was assuredly a first rate, upstanding daddy’s girl while standing in front of a rack of 285 rental porn movies was a bit of a stretch. Regardless, her nose scrunched up in ardent concentration as she inspected the display, and I dared to dream for a moment. After all, she had come in here, hadn’t she?

My phone lit up next to me on the counter while she peered on, and I swiped the notification from Hailey away without a glance.

“Oh I just don’t know,” she said, “this is really silly, but I need your help.”

“Sure, I mean, what kind of thing are you in the mood for?”

“That’s just it! I just need to learn!”

“Learn?” I repeated.

“Mhm,” she nodded abashedly, “I just haven’t got the first clue and I was hoping that y’all had like, uhhh…”

Good Christ. She was clueless.

“Oh. Oh! Okay, yeah. That’s…that fine! Perfect!” I knew I was stammering, but there was no helping it. “Well then maybe just something easy. Easy? Just plain, I guess?”

Her eyes lit up a little, liking the sound of something plain and easy. I grabbed a case that had the most vanilla looking title I could spot; I might work in a sex shop during my summers, but I really didn’t partake like that, and had no idea what most of these were really like.

“Try this?” I offered, holding Angels and Airlines 2 out toward her. She took it from my hands like she might have done with a live rattlesnake, turning the cover over in her hands to look at the half naked stewardesses and list of talent that the movie starred.

“This one’s…good?” she asked. I had no idea, but renting it to her meant that she’d be back in to return it, and that was good for me. She chewed her lip in consternation.

“Oh yeah, it’s, it’s…really great. Definitely what you’re after, nothing too crazy,” I fibbed.

“Okay. Okay, yeah. Perfect!” she exclaimed, sounding genuinely excited as she reached into the small purse that hung at her hip. She jammed the $5 bill into my hand and turned on her heel sharply to leave before I could remember to get her information.

I was leaned nearly all the way over the counter to watch her hips sway themselves right out the door when Hailey finally reemerged.

“Did you see my text?” she asked, whispering unnecessarily.

“Nah, who is she?” I replied, still craning to watch the corner of her skirt whip around the corner and out the door.

“That, my hopeless friend,” she said, “was Kayla Brown. Her family has 4500 head up on 8th line, you know?”

The revelation meant nothing to me, and I told her as much.

“I forget you didn’t go to high school here sometimes,” she clarified, “but her daddy is Kenny Brown. Reverend Kenny Brown.”

*******

Having rented the good reverend’s daughter such filth had my insides knotted in uncomfortable twists all night. I lay tossing and turning in bed for uncounted hours, miserably trying to reason out how I’d ever look her in the eye again. It shouldn’t have mattered who she was or what family she came from, but knowing did change things. Somehow.

The ride back to work the next morning felt longer than ever; it was a relatively long trek from the house I watched for my aunt and uncle in the summers anyway, but the moral conflict made my own business uncomfortable.

“Oh shut the fuck up,” Hailey chastised me when she arrived for her shift an hour later, “what the hell is there to feel guilty about anyway? She’s the one who came in here anyway, and she’s got about a billion times more to lose than you do for it.”

She was right, damn her. She usually was.

“Besides,” she carried on, “who gives a fuck anyway? Her mama catching her with that would be the most interesting thing that could possibly happen in this town anyway. But I wouldn’t worry about it; we’re way out in the middle of nowhere anyway – who’s even gonna see her out here?”

It was true; we were pretty out of the way out here in this derelict lot off the county line, and even the regulars kept driving if they happened to see another car in the parking lot. Nobody around here would risk getting caught dead in a place like Dirty Dan’s.

“Is there anything that needs to be done today?” Hailey asked, breaking my contemplative silence.

“Just mopping out the gloryhole” I said; the little stalls in the back corner of the shop had never been used in living memory, so mopping the gloryhole was our little private joke to say that there was fuck-all going on. Hailey blew up into her bangs, tugged her phone out of her pocket, and slumped into the old recliner. I leaned on the counter. This was the way things were most of the time.

We had a few customers through the day; the ding of the front door bell caused my heart to drop every time, and Hailey started to snicker at me each time my head snapped around at the door’s chime.

“Hey there Hailey,” leered a bumpkin at the counter with a cheap blowup doll in hand.

“Hello Daryll,” she replied with barely veiled derision, dragging his name out comically.

“Comin’ to the dance tonight? Last night of the fair,” he asked hopefully.

“Why don’t you take your girlfriend there, big fella,” she retorted, aiming her look at the inflatable he placed on the counter.

“Awh come on now, don’t be like that!” He looked to me for support while I rang him through, but I was busy trying to hide my smirk at the poor guy’s misplaced affections. “And this is for my cousin’s stag party next week anyway!”

“Sure it is, champ, sure it is,” she said with a finality that warned Daryll off another pass. He was nothing if not persistent.

“Better luck next time Dary,” I offered sympathetically, handing him his bag, “at least your mama didn’t raise a quitter.”

“Yeah,” he said dejectedly, “I guess. I’ll be seein’ y’all later.”

“Poor fucker,” I said as he pushed out the front door and climbed into his truck. “Surely you could go dance with the guy one time. He’s far from the worst you could do around here.”

“First, shut your whore mouth. Second, I’m pretty sure his family tree is a circle. You know his brother has six toes on his left foot?”

“Well yeah, but it’s okay because he’s only got the four on the other one.”

We fell to fits of laughter, making a slew of silly jokes back and forth for the better part of the next hour.

Until the door opened again. Both our eyes darted to the front of the shop, then to the mirror when the newcomer couldn’t be spotted over the shelves. It was her. She was back.

“Don’t you…” I started to hiss, but Hailey had already slunk off into the inventory room again, leaving me alone with Kayla.

“Hey there,” I offered, hoping I sounded halfway confident. I know that I didn’t.

Kayla marched up to the counter; the mildly annoyed look on her face was almost enough to distract me from the way her hips swung in the dress of the day; a red number with little white spots and a cute bow pinned to the neckline. She slapped a paper bag down, presumably containing the movie I’d rented to her.

“This!” she began, shoving the bundled parcel toward me, “this was not what I expected!” I stammered to reply, unsure of what could possibly make the situation better for her.

“I’m sorry?” I tried.

“The things those people were doing! The…the…positions!” Her eyes darted furtively around, as if to check for hidden threats among the shelves. “And the butts!”

“The butts?”

“They were putting…things in there!” she insisted.

“Well, I mean, yeah; they do that sometimes, you know?”

“People don’t do THAT!” she retorted indignantly, gesturing sharply at the bundle between us. “You can’t!” Her hands slapped down on the counter top to emphasize her point. I wasn’t about to insist that you could, but I did think about it. “You said it was normal!”

“I thought it was! Really! I mean, a little butt stuff isn’t that out of the ordinary, but if that wasn’t what you…”

“Me?! I wouldn’t care if it was *just* me! I’d have just turned it off if it was JUST me!” She continued to punctuate her angry tirade with hammered slaps on the countertop.

“Who else did you watch it with?!” I asked, horrified.

“Well! It…” she trailed off, anger ebbing toward embarrassment, “it doesn’t matter!”

“Okay, well, I am sorry. Really! I honestly did think that one was going to be pretty tame. I promise!”

She squinted at me quizzically, lips twisted in a pensive way to suggest that she wasn’t sure if she was finished with me.

“Hmm. Well,” she began, coming to a resolution, “you can have this one back.” She shoved it toward me and I robotically went through the motions of checking it back in, scanning the barcode and opening the case to make sure the disk was in there.

“Oh shit…” I muttered.

“What?” she demanded.

“You didn’t notice?” I asked, holding the case open for her to inspect. The title emblazoned on the disk read “ALL ANAL HOMEWRECKERS 3”, pasted across the splayed buttcheeks of a woman who held them aside viscously. I don’t need to tell you where the hole in the disk happened to sit.

“Oh,” she said quietly, “I didn’t really look that close. I was wondering where the stewardess on the cover went.” I let a guilty smirk cross my lips, and she let herself giggle slightly.

“Listen,” I laughed, chucking the case into the returns bin under the counter, “do you want something else? Seriously, I feel so bad; I’m supposed to check them all when they get returned.” She waved off the offer vigorously.

“Oh no! No no! I couldn’t; it’s fine, really! I just…I don’t think…”

“You sure? Honestly, I don’t watch much of this stuff myself but maybe there’s something…”

The front door dinged loudly; Kayla’s eyes widened in horror, looking to me desperately, begging for some intervention. Thinking fast, I stepped around the counter and clutched at her arm, dragging her to the back of the store. I glanced back toward the counter as I maneuvered us toward the unused stalls in the back, carefully keeping shelves and displays between us and the front door. Silently praising Hailey as a goddess, I heard her greet old Gus just as I shoved Kayla into the converted closet, pulling door shut behind me as I squeezed inside with her.

The muffled sounds of Gus’ voice barely penetrated the cramped space; Dan, who had optimistically turned the spare storage space into a bifurcated pair of smaller rooms years ago, had installed soft paneling along the walls of both spaces. I realized that I had crammed us into the “giver’s” room; the smaller of the two spaces, it was only really intended to be big enough for one person to comfortably stand in to get their cock through the hole in the shared wall. The other side would have been far more comfortable, as it was configured with a small bench and a soft padded cushion to kneel on.

“Can they hear us?” Kayla whispered quietly into my chest. I realized that she’d wrapper her arms around my trunk, squeezing herself into me tightly. The room was small, but not that small.

“Shhh,” I urged, “I don’t think so.”

“Are you sure?” she hissed.

“Stop talking and it won’t matter,” I urged. I heard her huff indignantly in the dark, but she clung to me relentlessly still. Gus’ booming voice continued to batter at the door.

“How long is he going to be here?” she asked impatiently after a minute.

“He’s a talker,” I said, “he could be here a while.”

“Yeah but it’s hot in here! Is there a light?”

“No, but you’re standing on my foot.”

“Sorry,” she said, trying to shift off, “is that better?” It was.

Another minute passed, and I silently begged Hailey to hustle the old man out. Kayla exhaled dramatically, and I realized that she had rested her head against my chest.

“It was my friend,” she whispered into the dark.

“What?”

“The movie. It was for my friend. Liz.”

“Oh…okay?”

“I just didn’t want you to think it was for me,” she said. I could have sworn she hugged herself to me more tightly. “She’s never done it before. She wanted to know what it was like.”

“Oh god,” I said, “and that’s what you showed her?” This time she really did squeeze me, hard.

“It’s not what I thought we were getting, remember?” I was forced to concede the point.

We’d been in the cramped cubby for a few minutes by that point, and while the heat was nearing an uncomfortable level, the real problem was the smell; having never been used, the gloryhole stall itself had no real odor apart from old sex store smells, but Kayla was a different story. Whatever shampoo she used was filling the closet with a heady and intoxicatingly sweet scent; between the way her body was pressed into mine and the clean, fruity smell coming from her, I was faced with the uncomfortable truth of my wanting for her.

“Quit moving,” she muttered at me.

“Sorry, I just need to…here…just…”

“Stop it! You’re gonna…”

“Just let me…” I tried to turn my hips away from her enough to hide the embarrassing truth of my mounting need.

“What are you even doing?” she demanded as my elbow banged at the wall loudly; we both froze in place, terrified that Gus might have heard the noise. We let long, agonizing seconds pass, not even daring to breathe. Satisfied that the baritone rumble of the old goat’s voice hadn’t paused at all, she finally exhaled loudly.

“You’re holding my butt,” she said.

“What?”

“Your hand? It’s on my butt.” I stammered a rushed apology, jerking the offending hand away quickly. She exhaled in breathy, quiet laughter and I hoped to God that she hadn’t noticed anything particularly firm pressing into her in the dark.

The silence grew heavy, and drew itself out. In reality, we couldn’t have been in there for more than a couple minutes, but the tension added miserable hours.

“I know what to do with it, you know,” she whispered matter-of-factly.

“What?” I said, staring straight ahead at the sliver of light around the door jam, “Oh. Okay?”

“It’s just, you know, yesterday. I’m not a…a…virgin or anything”

“Look, it’s fine. It doesn’t matter, really. It doesn’t matter at all.”

“It matters to me,” she whispered back insistently, “it really was for my friend. She’s sweet on a boy that works for her daddy and wanted to know what to do when it was time.”

“Well hopefully you set her straight on where it goes,” I said, allowing myself a wry smile, “or else she’s gonna have a sore bottom.” Kayla snickered in the dark and I felt her hand pat against me.

“Do you?” she asked.

“Sorry?”

“Do you know where it goes?”

The heat in the small room had precious little to do with the beading sweat on my brow.

“Of course I do!”

“Yeah?” she asked, suddenly in front of me and much closer than the space warranted again. “You sure about that?”

The hand she’d placed on my chest must have registered the thundering heartbeat that I was failing miserably to reign in, but the one below my belt line told the rest of the story regardless.

“Oh my,” she whispered breathily, “what’s this now?”

“You can’t,” I said, suddenly feeling very claustrophobic. Deft fingers and the quiet zip of my fly insisted that she most certainly could. “Kayla, please.”

Soft lips pressing themselves against mine were her only reply while her nimble hands tugged at the waistband of my briefs. The kiss softened my resolve in a moment; her hand left my chest and groped around for one of mine, clasping it softly and bringing it up toward her own neckline before she insistently pancaked our hands into her own chest. Knowing there was nothing to be gained in resisting, I gave her a firm squeeze and felt her smile through the kiss we shared.

“Mmm that’s a good boy,” she murmured, finally succeeding in freeing me from my underwear. She snaked her fingers into a fist and began drawing a few strokes back and forth; the angle wasn’t great given the confines we found ourselves in, but she cooed appreciatively nonetheless. “My, my! What on earth have we got here?” she asked in mock surprise, as though an erection was not among the things she might have expected to discover in my pants.

“Oh my god,” I whispered, still pawing at her tits greedily. For a relatively modest dress, the thin, layered fabric that made up the top was surprisingly easy to shift apart, and I dared to slip my hand underneath to cop a feel. It was a largely symbolic invasion; there was nothing new underneath but the soft cups of a plain bra, but her sharp intake of breath signaled something like approval. Distantly, I heard the beep of the register; Hailey must have been ringing Gus through, finally.

“Carefully now,” she teased, “you don’t want to ruin my pretty little dress, do you?” I could almost hear the grin in the way she spoke. I reached around her, looking for something else to fill my hands with, and my fingertips brushed against a dangling length of fabric in the middle of her back. Despite the immense distraction of her hand jerking awkwardly on my cock, I summoned the wherewithal to give the thin strip a tug.

Kayla gasped in righteous indignation as the knotted bow holding the back of her dress together came undone, but she did nothing to stop me from pulling the unravelling garment down entirely with the hand that had been so curiously exploring her tits; I swear she hunched her shoulders forward to allow the thing to fall away from her more easily. Her protesting huffs were sold out as lies as she let go of my cock to let the dress fall away from her entirely to pool onto the floor at her feet.

“You!” she growled. The barest traces of light that snuck through the ill-fitted door played off her bare skin; it was still too dark to admire her in the way that I needed to, but knowing was enough – the fact that she’d let me bare her so easily, without more than a superficial protest, had me unreasonably desperate for her. I reached out to pull her close, but she was already there.

I explored her near-naked body hungrily, running my hands over and across anything I could reach and feel while she resumed jerking me upwards against her body. We smeared our lips and tongues together in a heated clash that lacked any technique, devouring whatever we could with needy greed.

“I want you,” I begged, nearly forgetting to whisper.

“Just cum on me,” she insisted, “just cum on me here.”

I might have been able to, but it wasn’t what I wanted.

“Let me fuck you,” I pleaded again, and she blew a breathy laugh into my face.

“Not so fast, big boy,” she replied, “you gotta earn that now.”

“Alright little girl, we’ll be seeing y’all later!” Gus’ voice boomed out as he announced his departure from the store noisily. I winced to hear speak to Hailey like that.

“Please,” I begged, only eager to supplicate myself once more as the shop’s door chime sang out; Hailey would know what was up if we didn’t step out promptly now.

“You really think I oughta?” Kayla teased, stroking me two handed. It wasn’t a world-class experience by any means, but enthusiasm was half the game and she was more than keen on me – another minute or two and it wouldn’t matter.

Abruptly, she let go of me altogether and stepped back. I stood in open-mouthed disbelief as she popped a squat to retrieve her dress, shrugging back into it without so much as a word; she practically radiated self-congratulatory pride. If there’d been enough light to see, I was sure I could’ve spotted an absolutely devilish smirk.

“Tie me?” she asked, turning away from me and sweeping her auburn hair over her shoulder. I complied without opinion, forgetting all about my cock as it bobbed in the air in front of me, spurned beyond belief as it was. I tugged a neat bow into place for her and she turned back to peck me on the lips.

“You’ll have to wait, sweetheart,” she chided, jiggling her fingers to tap at the underside of my leaky dick, “I’ve gotta get to the fair; there’s a big blue ribbon waiting for my peach pie and I can’t disappoint now, can I?”

With that, she treated me to a more generous kiss, placed an affectionate hand on my cheek, and showed herself out. I was still tucking myself back into my drawers as she made her way purposefully past Hailey with a friendly wave.

“See y’all later!” she said cheerfully with a twiddle of her fingers.

“Yeah,” said Hailey, obviously off-kilter at not having slipped back out of sight in time, “you too, I guess.” With that, Kayla was gone again, and I was left standing in the doorway of the gloryhole, hands on my hips, lips pursed tightly.

“I am NOT mopping that thing out,” she shouted over at me.

“Shut up,” I said back in genuine frustration, “there’s no need.”

*******

I sent Hailey home early. She’d let the problem go without further opinion, and I apologized sincerely for snapping at her, but everyone for miles around was at the last night of the county fair and a quiet evening counting inventory by myself was all I needed to clear my head. Being the genuinely faultless friend that she was, she patted me on the shoulder, invited me to buck up, and headed off for the night. It wasn’t much, but it was enough; she understood.

Dan never came in himself; we only ever heard from him a few times a month when he’d call in to ask if everything was alright, but the summer was winding down and he’d want a quarterly count of everything in the store before long, so I set myself up to get a head begin on some of the dusty relics in the back room, popping some headphones on and getting right down to it.

Novelty dildos, fuzzy handcuffs, and stacks of unsold magazines tallied themselves up on my record as the hours wore on. We closed shop at 10:00 most nights, but I’d never sleep after today, so I kept on counting well past 11:00 just to avoid going home to be alone with my thoughts.

It wasn’t even the sexual frustration that got me. It wasn’t the fact that she’d made me weak in the knees and then strolled out like nothing had happened. It wasn’t the way she walked, talked, or smiled. It was the fact that all of it would never matter; I was who I was and a girl like her just didn’t end up with dudes like me. I rebuked myself for being a miserable little shit and redoubled my efforts to tally a stack of cheesy costumes. The night wore on, and so did my counting.

At about a half past 11:00, the door chimed.

“We’re closed,” I shouted, hoping to scare off whoever it was. I should have locked the door.

There was no reply.

“Hey, did you hear me?” I hollered again, listening for the sound of the door to tell me they’d left. “You can’t be in here!” I cussed in frustration as I lost count of the pile of bottomless nurse’s uniforms in front of me and tossed my clipboard apart. Rubbing my eyes, I stood up to leave the back room and confront the apparently deaf intruder.

I heard a soft click from the far corner at the back of the shop, and stepped around the counter to peer around. Nothing was obviously missing, but the little pile of crimson fabric with little white spots all over it in the middle of the floor commanded my immediate attention. I walked over and picked it up, searching left and right for the only person who could have left it here. Several feet away, a plain cream-colored bra lay in tangled disarray in an aisle. Past that, a plain pair of cotton panties lay mere feet away from the door next to the one I’d pulled Kayla into hours ago.

There was no way. I refused to believe it, yet my palms began to sweat and my teeth ground against each other of their own volition. My feet stepped forward on their own accord. My shirt pealed itself off my back, and landed on the floor next to the bra as if another’s hand had done the work. Likewise, the door to the small, dark cubby I’d previously occupied swung itself open. I blinked hard, eager myself to be present for this; the late summer humidity did nothing to convince me that I wasn’t freezing cold as I stood there, entirely naked. I couldn’t even remember kicking my pants off. I don’t remember getting hard either, but I continued trying to force my eyes to sharpen their focus as I beheld my own cock stretching out toward the narrow hole in the wall in front of me.

I heard a rustle on the other side, but had no idea what to do. I mean, I knew what to do, but lacked the impetuous to bring myself to do it.

With a near horrifyingly disembodied grace, I watched in utter paralysis as the light from the shop shone through the door I hadn’t quiet closed; shining, glossy red lips brought themselves up to the hole at my waist so slowly that no amount of knowing otherwise could convince me that Kayla’s was the mouth I saw. The tip of a tongue parted the painted lips ever so slightly, and traced an excruciatingly seductive path along the top lip wetly before her mouth twisted to chew at the bottom in a picture-perfect nibble. The entirety of the fleshly tongue pushed it’s way through again, rolling out of her mouth to unfold itself cinematically, even as a single pearly bead of spit dangled off the tip in a single beam of unbroken fluorescent light.

I rallied myself with a steadying breath and took hold of my aching cock, determined to see this through even if it destroyed me. I stepped forward, looking down one last time; she held herself in near statuesque motionlessness, but the near-imperceptible movements of her pink tongue as she drew slow, hot breaths seemed almost alien – I told myself again who it was on the other side, but refused to believe myself as I laid my cock on her patiently waiting tongue with a religious care. Her warm exhalation melted me entirely.

I pressed my hips forward and let myself glide along the velvety pillow of her outstretched tongue, sure that she’d let me keep going forever before she finally closed her lips in an airtight seal around my shaft. Before I could debate whether to thrust at all, she drew back and began to bob slowly back into me; I felt nothing so much as the wet, warm euphoria that came with the certainty of knowing who’s mouth I was filling. My eyes closed, and I pressed my forehead to the cool paneled wall, wrestling with the disbelief of what was happening. The only sounds I heard were those wet, slobbery smacks of lips on dick.

In time, I grew needier for her; without so much as a conscious effort, I had pressed myself flat against the wall, desperate to offer myself up for her. She was more than a match, and more than eager to take what she wanted from me; abrasive slurping sounds poured through the small hole in the wall and I grew frantic at my inability to give her more. In terrifying parody of the events earlier in the day, cold air enveloped my slobbery length as the opposing door slammed itself open; refusing to believe she’d pull the same stunt on me, I withdrew myself from the hole, hardly finding the time to admire the red smears of drooly lipstick covering me as I darted out into the shop.

She hadn’t left, nor was she making an effort to do so.

No; instead, Kayla had bent herself at the waist over the front counter, proffering her ass delectably in my direction, elbows rested against the cheap material of the countertop. She looked back to watch me approach, hair flung over her shoulder to treat me to a look of yearning so urgent that it bordered on concern. I hurried to her, concerned that she’d draw blood if she bit her bottom lip any harder.

Stepping through the last few feet between us, I reached out to take her hips in my hands and she pushed herself upward onto the balls of her feet. causing the muscles of her strong calves to stand out starkly. As soon as my fingertips brushed against her, she uttered a whiny little whimper and jammed her ass back toward me impetuously, pouting impishly for effect. It was a clear enough demand for me.

I took her; it wasn’t gentle, or soft. I was not polite about it. There was no anger in the way that I fucked her, but the hysterical need I had for her produced an ungoverned savagery that felt much the same. I slid into her easily, helped along by the same excited dew that had already painted itself in streaking drips between her thighs; she pushed back onto me with another haughty squeak, impatiently throwing herself back into me without any measurable grace whatsoever. I held onto her hips firmly and drove long, piling thrusts into her, losing myself to the hypnotic waves of rippling tremors that danced across the flesh of her pale ass, and the bouncing tresses of her wavy hair.

“Pull my hair,” she demanded as if she’d read my mind, “pull my fucking hair.”

I did as I was bade, taking a fistful of the stuff in my right hand and hauling backward; her neck craned toward the ceiling as she groaned in undomesticated satisfaction. A thin sheen of sweat built itself up across my torso from the effort of repeatedly slamming myself into her, and her wordless groans took on a feral need as she arched her back beyond reason, cumming violently onto my cock. The lipstick smears gave her a deranged look that might have frightened me if I wasn’t trying so hard to pump her full of my own cum.

Some tickle of hesitation reminded me that a girl like her was almost certainly not taking anything that would make such a thing safe. “I’m gonna cum,” I cried out, entirely unsure how much more time I’d be able to stave it off.

“Ahh!” she growled, tossing herself back into me twice more in frustration before sliding forward to deny me the warm berth of her heavenly pussy. “Cum on my ass then!” she demanded, shocking me to my core as she reached her hands back and spread her delicious cheeks wide; her picturesque hole winked at me in shocking display, and it took only a few seconds of manual work to stroke up careening ropes of hot cum. She murmured in giddy approval as the gooey stuff splattered itself audibly against her butt, and the infectious rush of excitement took root in me entirely while I watched the pearlescent streams of it run in gloopy tracks across her pristine asshole. She wiggled delightedly as I milked the last strands against her, giggling like a woman possessed.

“Mmm!” she hummed, as though sampling a warm cookie straight from the oven instead of smushing a load of hot cum between her ass. She leaned forward to rest her weight on the counter while I caught my breath behind her, hands on my hips. “You did know where it goes.”

I exhaled in raspy laughter. She pushed herself up off the counter with a groan, stretching her arms high above her head, and I drank in the sight of her; she really was simply beautiful, and not only because of the things we’d just done together.

She caught me spying. “See something you like, darlin’?” A wide grin split my face and I nodded like a giddy fool. She giggled tenderly, “Well why don’t you make yourself useful before your cute little face gets stuck like that and find my dress for me, hmm?”

We dressed quickly. I couldn’t be sure, but a part of me wondered she might have pulled her underwear back over her ass without so much as a superficial effort to clean my deposit off of herself. I’d ask about it later, maybe.

“I really oughta get going,” she said while I tugged my jeans back on, “but I umm…I’d like to see you again?”

“Are you asking me?”

“Maybe?” she returned. The heat of the moment had faded, and some of the reserved farmer’s daughter began to come back through.

“Yeah. I mean…Yeah! I’d love to! When?”

She searched about the counter for a moment, scooping up a pen and clasping at my hand to scribble the digits of her phone number on the back.

“You can call me,” she said, “but you gotta be sweet, okay?” I nodded emphatically. She gathered up her purse and made to leave.

“Hey wait,” I called as she reached for the door, “did your pie win? At the peach thing?”

With a wink and a smirk, she pushed through the door, calling back as it closed slowly behind her.

“Of course it did, my pie is the best.”

NSFW: yes

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