Night Shift

by Joanna Angel

  Cherise then stopped holding back and she went at a faster pace. I continued to suck his cock, she went faster and faster. He got louder and louder and cried in a helpless way.

  “Do I have permission to cum?”

  “Yes baby, yes, cum for me!” Cherise said, and she proceeded to pound away at his asshole, while I took him out of my mouth and jerked him off with my hand. He winced, his eyes shut as he shook vigorously; a large fountain of white jizz came out of his cock and landed on his stomach. It was impressive!

  “Thank you both. That was . . . incredible,” I said.

  “I like this spot. I’m certainly glad we stopped by,” Cherise said.

  “We will definitely be back,” Chuck said, still panting heavily.

  “Take your time cleaning up. I’ll be out at the register— you know—working.” I collected myself as much as I could and I exited the room.

  I wiped myself down with baby wipes and hand sanitizer, giving myself a very unsatisfying shower. I couldn’t believe everything I just saw and felt. My underwear was soaked with my cum; I chose not to put them back on. I would treat myself to a new pair of wholesale lace panties as a reward for my new sexual accolades. I couldn’t wait to tell Amanda what I’d done tonight.

  To go back and have Chuck grab the riding crop, Click Here.

  Continue with Taryn in this fantasy, Click Here.

  I returned to the register incredibly disheveled, smelling like sex and sanitizer. A few customers meandered around the store.

  “I’m sorry, I was on break!” I shouted, as a general announcement. One guy nodded. The others weren’t fazed. I had sex while still on the clock and got away with it, which I think was pretty impressive! I shouldn’t take that for granted. I definitely didn’t have that luxury when I worked at JC Penny.

  A guy approached the register holding a pornographic movie titled Make Me Creamy. He was wearing what looked like a hybrid of shorts and pants. They were definitely too long to be shorts and too short to be pants. He was big and stocky, with a Florida State University hat on, and a black sweatshirt. He slid the DVD over to me like it was some kind of contraband and wouldn’t look me in the eye. “I’ll take a room, please,” he said.

  “Did you need one with a DVD player in it?” I asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “All right! Here you go,” I said, with a big smile, handing him a key. “Have fun in there!” He cracked a smile. No one should feel guilty about going to jerk off.

  Moments later Cherise and Chuck came out of the big room, looking completely put together. I don’t know how they did it. Her makeup was re-applied with perfection, all of his buttons were buttoned and his shirt was tucked in. They looked like two people who just left a charity auction, and not a dark room with seventies decor where they fucked a complete stranger.

  “See you in two weeks, I hope!” I said to the ravishing couple.

  “Have a great evening,” Cherise said, and they left the store.

  I watched their asses as they left, remembering fondly their shape and feel. I almost got completely lost in my thoughts, but I shook my head; I had to work! To clear my brain, I took out my phone to check for new message board replies, but, whoa! To my surprise, there was an unexpected missed call from Amanda.

  I couldn’t believe it. No text, no voicemail. Just her name in bold red text telling me she’d called while I was having amazing sex. Was it a mistake? Did she mean to actually call me? My heart pounded, and I immediately attempted to call her back. It went straight to voicemail. It was probably for the best, I didn’t know what to say! I decided to text her instead.

  “I saw you called!” I wrote out.

  No, the exclamation point was too eager.

  “Hey, did you call me?”

  No, no. That was a pointless text that wouldn’t lead to anything sexy at all.

  Meanwhile, on the store monitor, I saw the shorts/ pants guy juggling an intricate jerk-off routine. He put on a particular scene on the DVD he purchased, then fast forwarded to the end of the scene where there was an up close shot of a whole bunch of semen spilled out of a girl’s vagina. He began to jerk off, then he stopped and rewound the DVD back to the same part. He would get in about four seconds of jerking off, then he would stop and rewind again and again and again. Why wouldn’t he just pause it? I wish there was some way I could help. It was so frustrating to watch his flaccid penis come in and out of his pants without any progression. Perhaps I could make some sort of loop for him of semen filled vaginas if I downloaded a few videos? That’s technologically possible, right? I should look into that. Again and again and again, he rewound, stroked, rewound again, stroked, and his cock was not getting any harder. So strange that in the room next door to him not even twenty minutes ago three people managed to fuck the shit out of each other and he couldn’t pull off fucking himself.

  And then my phone rang. It was Amanda. I grabbed my phone and my shaking fingers made it slip from my hands and fall to the ground and landed face-down with a sickening CRACK! I picked it up and already the breaks were spidering all around my screen. Damn it! It still displayed Amanda’s call though, and I managed to pick it up on what was certainly the last ring.

  “Hello?” I answered, as cool and calm as I possibly could. I had slid my finger against the shattered case to answer the call and now it was bloody. I tried not to think about it—Amanda was on the line!

  “Hey, you,” she said.

  “Hi!” I said. I froze. It is so impractical to agonize over someone calling you, and then have nothing to say when they actually do. Damn it, what is wrong with me!

  “What are you doing? Are you at work?”

  “Yeah! I am. It’s been a really interesting night here.”

  “So, I’m actually stuck at the Orlando airport the next twelve hours—my flight to Charlotte had to do an emergency landing here because they were low on fuel.”

  “Who the fuck is Charlotte!” The words blurted out of me. Even though I shouldn’t be getting jealous when I was the one who just engaged in unicorn activities.

  “Oh—a really hot. . .” she paused and I could feel tears beginning to form in my eyes. My bloody finger dripped on my palm as I clenched my hand into a fist. “. . . City in North Carolina! You psycho.” She couldn’t stop laughing.

  “I’m not psycho!” I said. “I just don’t like North Carolina. It’s a swing state and it always messes up elections, okay?” Up until about four days ago, I only thought of elections when anyone mentioned the word “swing,” but now it has a whole other meaning.

  “Are you working all night?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll come by and keep you company!” she said.

  “Oh! Okay,” I said. I wanted to jump up and down and scream FUCK YES but a very subdued okay made up for my schizoid Charlotte comment. They balanced each other out. I’d have to stop the bleeding before she got here though, or else my craziness would be inescapable.

  “My phone is gonna die but I’ll let you know when I’m on the road,” she said, and hung up. How was she even getting here? Orlando was like two hours from the store. I couldn’t believe this was happening. I pinched myself. I needed to take a more proper shower; I still smelled like a threesome.

  I quickly went to the bathroom for a quick “kind-of” shower. I took bottles of Dasani and spilled them on myself, rubbing off as much sweat as I could. It worked to some degree, but I don’t think it covered all of it. My breath was a whole other issue. I couldn’t find any mints or candy in the store, but I did find out that Sandy keeps a toothbrush in the bathroom. I mean, she was sort of like a family member at this point, right? I could totally use her toothbrush.

  I scrubbed as much of my body as I could, running out in between washes to check on the store. Every time the bell on the door rang, my heart felt like it dropped to the floor, much like my cell phone.

  Each time I came out of the bathroom, I checked in on shorts/pants guy. After a grueling twenty m
inutes, he successfully achieved a boner. His problem was that he was too concerned with watching the actual DVD, which didn’t give him what he needed. He was now watching the DVD menu, which had five boxes on it, and within each box was a mini version of each scene. So it was essentially a loop of moments of sex and moments of cum inside of vaginas. I was happy to see he found a solution. He was a grower and not a shower. He didn’t take his shorts/pants off. His cock just peeked through the zipper. Magic. I was happy for him.

  As I went into the bathroom for another clean, wondering why I still reeked of sex, I realized that my shirt was still heavily wafting smells of arousal all around me. Shit. I didn’t have a change of clothes at the store; I guess I’d have to put on something from the shelves.

  I looked through the selection of clothing in the store, and I decided to wear this purple corset that was on display. It wasn’t too revealing, it looked more like something people with adventurous lives would wear as a top. It zipped in the middle and it was laced in the back. I was able to slide it on comfortably, and it actually looked quite good with the leggings I had on, and my Converse were an interesting touch. My styling looked intentional, sort of like I was a cute, wacky next door neighbor character on a sitcom. When I worked retail, I was always required to wear clothing from the store to work because my bosses thought it would help sell the clothing. I don’t see why that shouldn’t apply here. That would be my cover story if Amanda didn’t like my corset; I will blame it on the corporate policy of this obviously non-corporate store.

  Once the shorts/pants guy got going he was done pretty quickly. I was beginning to enjoy the ever-growing visual Rolodex of people and their O faces inside my brain. Everyone had their own unique orgasm: some people were loud, some were quiet, some kept their eyes open, some kept them closed, some sat down, some stood up, some people ran out of the room as soon as they ejaculated, and some people sat around and decompressed for a moment. Some people wiped everything off immediately and some people tasted their own cum, some people used an excessive amount of lube and some used none. The cream-pie guy spit in his hand and masturbated swiftly; he stared at the TV screen and ejaculated a small load into his hands, wiped them off with tissue and exited the store immediately. I tried to say good-bye, but he speed-walked right past me, leaving his DVD behind. I suppose it was a onetime use. I was glad he was done, though; I didn’t really want anything distracting me from what I hoped was a very sensual night.

  About two hours later, Amanda walked through the door, in a black blazer, black jeans, black boots, and a soft, white T-shirt.

  She was smokin’ hot. I tried not to stare at her; I failed.

  Meanwhile, I looked like a somewhat grown version of Punky Brewster in my multicolored half-lingerie half laundry day leggings ensemble. But you know what? I was feeling it. We were an odd couple, a sexy, horny odd couple and that’s okay.

  “You look cute,” she said, as she stood in the doorway. I ran over to her, threw my arms around her neck, and kissed her. I hope she realized how new and improved my kiss was; I expected compliments at some point.

  “I can’t believe you’re here!” I said.

  “Yeah—I randomly appear sometimes!” she answered. She kissed my neck, and put her hands in my back pocket and grabbed onto my ass. We were right in the doorway causing an adorable fire hazard—a very drunk guy practically knocked us over trying to get inside. We laughed, and I pulled her behind the counter and grabbed her a seat.

  “So, you’re stuck here?” I asked.

  “Well, in Orlando, yeah. I guess so!”

  “I can’t say I’m not happy about that. Even though I know it kind of sucks for you,” I said.

  “Yeah, I know,” she replied with a very smug smile. She vaguely knew the power she had over me. I couldn’t yet figure out if she found it endearing or annoying.

  The drunk guy stumbled around the store; I could smell the potent cologne and wafts of vodka from across the room. He squinted and looked at a handful of movies. He then attempted to put them back, but he dropped them all on the floor.

  “Easy, there!” Amanda said, and she walked over to him and put movies he dropped back into their place.

  “Can I help you?” she asked him. This woman took control over my brain and now she was taking control over my store. I don’t know how she did it.

  “Where’s the bathroom?” he slurred.

  “Over there,” I pointed to it. He then walked toward the bathroom but halfway he just began urinating on the floor.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” Amanda yelled, and went over to him and smacked him upside the head, somehow stopping the pee coming out of him. She pushed a few buttons on her phone.

  “I got a cab coming for you, all right buddy?” He tried to reach out and grab her breasts and she pushed him back. “No!” She pointed at him and yelled, like speaking to a bad dog. She pulled him outside the store while I went and cleaned up his piss with Clorox wipes.

  She walked back inside and the two of us burst out laughing.

  “Well, I’m glad you got to meet some of Tampa’s finest!” I said.

  “It happens everywhere. Every city has their own set of hidden gems.”

  “You’re very good with drunks.”

  “Well it takes one to know one!” she replied.

  “I don’t see you as the type to pee in a store,” I said.

  “Hey, if you’re into that I’d be happy to.” She kissed me. And truly, I actually thought about it for a minute.

  “I AM KIDDING!” she said. “Don’t you know how to take a joke?” she asked while pulling the back of my hair in such an aggressively sexy way.

  I was relieved. Kind of. But I would be lying if I said I didn’t find it slightly erotic at all.

  “So—I swear, I didn’t do this for you—but I did actually put the word out to swinger couples to come hang out here and I’m planning an event specifically for them in two weeks.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really.”

  “Where is the flier for it? I don’t see one!” she said.

  “I don’t have a printed flier! They’re so old-fashioned. And not in the budget,” I said. “But it’s all over this one message board! And a couple read it and came in earlier tonight to check the place out and, and, I . . . had sex with them!”

  “You WHAT?!” she said, looking incredibly surprised. And I could tell she didn’t believe me.

  “I did! I was their unicorn!” I said.

  “Oh look at you—quick with your swinger terminology. Is that why you’re wearing bright purple?” she asked

  “No! I’m wearing bright purple because my other shirt got too sweaty after I had sex with them, so I put on this purple thing to look nice for you.” We paused and just blankly stared at each other. “Along with these panties!” I pulled my pants down and showed her the top of my black lace panties, with a little pink bow on top. I think she actually was starting to believe me. I felt guilt and pride at the same time.

  “I am really shocked, little Taryn.”

  “I wasn’t doing it for you, but I thought of you the whole time. Well, for a good portion of it anyway. And I feel like, your plane must have landed here for some cosmic reason so I could tell you in person. I wasn’t sure how to tell you over the phone. Mostly because you rarely answer my texts,” I said.

  “I answer the ones I feel like answering,” she smirked.

  “Yeah, I can see that.” I jumped in her chair and kissed her and kissed her, again and again. I felt so emotionally drained. I kind of wanted to scream. I wanted to bottle up this moment and drink it later when I would inevitably miss her again and she would inevitably not respond to me.

  “What’s this?” She picked up the copy of Make Me Creamy that the shorts/pants customer so abruptly left on the store counter.

  “Oh, it’s uh, a return. A guy came in and, well, he used it, and left it here. I guess he didn’t want it!” I said.

  “Well, let’s wat
ch it!” she said. “You’ve got a TV back there and nothing playing on it!”

  I actually forgot that the thing on the wall in the back of the store was, in fact, a TV. It had never been used and I treated it like a decoration. Why didn’t I ever put a movie on? So many boring hours could have been spent with my eyes focused on something else. Between the sporadic live sex in the store that I observed on a small monitor, I could have been watching pre-recorded sex on a large screen.

  Amanda bent down and wiped the dust off the DVD player behind the counter, and successfully figured out how to insert the disk (god, is there anything this woman can’t insert?). And there we were, me and Amanda, sitting at the cash register as it turned from dark to dusk outside watching a surgically enhanced blonde girl strip her fishnet bikini off in slow motion, in front of an Olympic-size swimming pool. She held my hand. We were on a date.

  Our porn cuddles were sometimes interrupted by customers wanting to make a purchase. I rang up a few of them here and there with an incredible amount of enthusiasm. I could see that Amanda liked when I was a diligent worker, even if it meant ringing up blow-up dolls, fake vaginas, and herbal Viagra. She barely blinked an eye at the fact that I literally had sex with two people at the same time not even three hours earlier, but she did get incredibly offended by the fact that I almost sold someone silicone lube instead of water-based lube with their Flesh-light.

  “You know that will basically ruin the product?” she barked at me. She was basically like an encyclopedia for things that gave people orgasms. She genuinely cared. It’s like she had a PhD in sex toys.

  “I had no idea,” I said.

  “It says ‘USE WITH WATER-BASED LUBE’ on the back of the box!” she exclaimed. “How do you not know?”

  I didn’t know what to say.

  “How does she fuck standing up in those heels?!” Amanda said, pointing at the screen that displayed a woman in what seemed to be nine-inch heels, on a staircase, having sex with a muscular man with a large cock. I thought of Cherise who also successfully had sex in large heels just a few hours earlier, but she was on a couch most of the time and not standing on a staircase.