pennywise
Bluelighter
- Joined
- Apr 6, 2005
- Messages
- 5,206
Her name was Christina. She was the cashier manager at the university bookstore where he worked. She was a bitch, but she radiated sex. He glanced over from his register to where she stood, her eyes downcast, head tilted slightly to the right as she rung up a return. The slut. Her eyes were cool and bored. They were the same color as her coffee-and-cream skin. She wore a bright pink sweater today, and he could see the bulge of her nipples beneath it's thin fabric. She couldn't be wearing a bra. He felt his cock start to get hard inside his pants.
He had seen her leaving the store with different guys, all black guys with new baseball caps and sneakers, the kind who wore large vulgar diamond studs in their ears and lived with their mothers. He made up his mind that he was going to fuck her.
She never spoke to him other than as a boss, and she gave him cold stares as often as any other employee. He didn't care. It made him want to fuck her that much more.
He knew that she was closing the store that night, so he arranged to stay late. He needed to be alone with her. He had to make his move now, or he might go crazy.
He was counting his drawer when she came over. Her face was cold. She didn't look him in the eye, so he stared at her breasts, and he imagined what it would feel like to stick his cock between them. He started to get hard again.
"You're counting wrong," she said.
"Huh?" he asked, surprised.
"You're counting your drawer wrong. You're supposed to count the big bills first, not the pennies. You think I give a fuck how many pennies you have?"
Now was his chance. He had planned this hastily, but knew inside it was problably the best way to go about it.
"You know, you can be a real bitch sometimes" he mumbled.
"What did you just say?" she said, as if she had not heard him. She was angry now. Good.
"I said 'you can be a real bitch sometimes!' " he said more loudly, "maybe you should try getting fucked a little more often."
"Who the fuck do you think you are talking to, you little prick?!" she said angrily.
"All I'm saying is that when a woman is a bitchy as you are it usually means that she needs a little bit of hard cock once in a while."
He looked at her then. He lowered his head and then peered up at her from his downcast face, smiling broadly, suggestively.
Recognition bloomed on her face.
"You couldn't handle this, whiteboy." she said. Surprisingly she had gone from furious to merely standoffish. It might work after all.
"You don't have the balls to handle this" she said, shifting her weight and placing a hand on her hip.
"Oh really?" he said, "why don't you come over and check?"
She looked shocked, and she stood there momentarily looking him up and down. Then she walked over. She looked like she expected him to back away, but he didn't. He just stood there, looking at her. She was less than six inches from him. He could smell the faint scent of some bath oil coming off her mocha colored skin. Her face was indifferent, appraising, almost business-like.
She would fuck. He knew it right then.
Suddenly she reached down and put her hand inside his pants. She grabbed his cock. It was still semi-erect.
When she looked up, her face had not changed.
"I thought white boys where supposed to have small dicks" she said, matter-of-factly.
"You've been wanting to do that all day, haven't you?" he said, smiling again.
She looked at him again briefly, her hand still on his cock. Then she let him go and turned around, walking away from him as she reached up and undid the clasp that held her hair up away from her face. He watched as her hair rolled down her back in thick, sexy curls that shone rich and black in the diffuse harsh light of the overhead halogen bulbs. She walked to the back of the sales floor to a door marked with a sign that read: "restroom - employees only". She looked back over her shoulder at him showing off her rapturous hair and the maddening curves her jeans made over her pert, tight ass.
"You coming?" she asked, her expression still nuetral.
He started across the room, and he had to remind himself not to run. He entered the restroom with her and closed the door. The room contained only a a mirror, a sink, and a wooden stall with a toilet. The light was the same halogen glare as out on the sales floor. They stood there for a moment, neither speaking. He pulled his apron over his head and tossed it aside. She had no apron, and merely looked at him, still appraising, like a jungle cat homing in for a kill. Then, abruptly, she grabbed him by the back of the neck and was kissing him. She kissed him like he might have expected, had he been expecting anything: roughly, forcefully. He felt her push her tongue into his mouth. His hard cock pressed against her.
He put a hand inside her sweater, feeling the exciting softness of her breast. He worked his hand down her stomach and found the clasp of her jeans. Unfastening it, he worked the jeans over her hips while he kissed her, exposing her bright red thong. He left her jeans dangling halfway down to her knees so he could admire the sight of her beautiful round ass in the mirror while her tongue flicked in and out of his mouth. She stopped kissing him and looked over her shoulder at their reflection in the mirror.
"You like that ass, don't you, whiteboy?" she cooed, half mocking. "Is that what you want?"
With that she kicked off her jeans the rest of the way and while he fondled her breasts beneath the pink sweater she still wore. She turned, and for the first time grinned at him as she bent halfway over the sink, grabbing its edges with both hands. He removed her panties with one smooth motion of his hand
"You gonna fuck me?" she said huskily. "Fuck me. Fuck me." she was beginning to get excited now. He could see her nipples through the sheer fabric of her sweater again. His cock was rock hard in his pants.
He took off his shirt and dropped it, then he unbuckled his belt and let his pants fall to the floor. Slowly, he pulled his cock out and began to stroke it. He looked at her, but she was staring at his hard cock and swaying her ass subtley and seductively. She licked her lips and began to play with herself as she watched him stroke his cock.
He stepped over to her and pushed her forward a little as he rubbed his cock lightly against her clit, then he put his cock between her beautiful brown legs and thick firm ass cheeks and pushed himself into her. Her could feel the warm wet silk of her pussy as it cradled his throbbing member. He continued to slide it further in. Her generous lips had become a loose "O" shape and her eyes were shut tight in overwhelmed pleasure. Small gasping noises began to arise from her as he moved slowly in and out.
His eyes traced from her full, pouty mouth over her face to her luxurious cascade of black hair, and followed the curving lines of her lower back down to her firm naked cheeks which were rippling slightly with the motion of their sex.
She looked back over her shoulder at his cock working steadily inside of her, her face full of kinky anger, full of the pleasure of being fucked from behind with a big cock. Then she looked at him, and her eyes dared him to work harder, to give her everything she expected and more.
Suddenly he was furious. He would show the bitch. He suddenly pushed himself all the way into her. Hard. He reached out and grabbed a handful of that thick black hair - whore's hair - and yanked her head back, arching her back sharply while he pulled her hips toward him with the other hand and thrust savagely once again. She let out a small cry, but instead of stopping their motion she pressed back into him, sinking his cock as far into her as it could go. Still she pushed harder, breathing heavy and hard. "YES!" she screamed, "FUCK ME HARD, MAKE ME SCREAM!"
He could feel the heat building. His body was numb except for his cock, and there he could feel every inch of her like silken fire licking up and down its legnth. They were working towards a fever pitch, his cock like an iron rod and her screaming in a pleading tone to fuck her harder as she built towards orgasm.
She was bent over the sink, clutching it with both hands, her tits bouncing inside her pink sweater which was pulled tightly across her midsection by his hands, which had grasped the sweater across the back. He was holding her by the sweater in one hand and by her long black hair in the other, which swang wildly when she tossed her head with each savage pump.
He almost couldn't believe it was real as she writhed and screamed and moaned on his cock, as she came again and again in a rapid fire series of white hot flases. As she came for the last time, she looked back over her shoulder at him, and her steely brown eyes, made misty from the heat of their act, seemed to burn within him, and he came in a juggernaut wave of pure ecstacy.
She pushed him deep inside her as he came, and moved side to side, sending shudders of pleasure racing through his body. She pushed into him hard, as if she must have his come to survive.
Afterward he sat on the counter of the sales floor and was smoking a cigarette, when she walked out of the bathroom, wearing her clothes again.
"Get out." she said, "you're fired."
He could tell she was serious. He hit her, hard, across the side of the face with his palm, and she fell on her back across the counter. She reached up to hit him back but he fell on top of her, pinning her hands with one of his.
He ripped her sweater open with the other, popping the buttons off. Her breast erupted from the remains of the sweater, and he continued to hold her hands while he cupped one breast and bit her nipple hard enough to hurt. He hit her across the face again, and then let her hands go. She sat up and tore his pants off and plunged his cock into her mouth.
30 minutes later they rose from the countertop, him with scratches covering his back, and her with bruises surrounding her neck. They kissed, and left without saying another word.
Neither one made it into work the next morning.
He had seen her leaving the store with different guys, all black guys with new baseball caps and sneakers, the kind who wore large vulgar diamond studs in their ears and lived with their mothers. He made up his mind that he was going to fuck her.
She never spoke to him other than as a boss, and she gave him cold stares as often as any other employee. He didn't care. It made him want to fuck her that much more.
He knew that she was closing the store that night, so he arranged to stay late. He needed to be alone with her. He had to make his move now, or he might go crazy.
He was counting his drawer when she came over. Her face was cold. She didn't look him in the eye, so he stared at her breasts, and he imagined what it would feel like to stick his cock between them. He started to get hard again.
"You're counting wrong," she said.
"Huh?" he asked, surprised.
"You're counting your drawer wrong. You're supposed to count the big bills first, not the pennies. You think I give a fuck how many pennies you have?"
Now was his chance. He had planned this hastily, but knew inside it was problably the best way to go about it.
"You know, you can be a real bitch sometimes" he mumbled.
"What did you just say?" she said, as if she had not heard him. She was angry now. Good.
"I said 'you can be a real bitch sometimes!' " he said more loudly, "maybe you should try getting fucked a little more often."
"Who the fuck do you think you are talking to, you little prick?!" she said angrily.
"All I'm saying is that when a woman is a bitchy as you are it usually means that she needs a little bit of hard cock once in a while."
He looked at her then. He lowered his head and then peered up at her from his downcast face, smiling broadly, suggestively.
Recognition bloomed on her face.
"You couldn't handle this, whiteboy." she said. Surprisingly she had gone from furious to merely standoffish. It might work after all.
"You don't have the balls to handle this" she said, shifting her weight and placing a hand on her hip.
"Oh really?" he said, "why don't you come over and check?"
She looked shocked, and she stood there momentarily looking him up and down. Then she walked over. She looked like she expected him to back away, but he didn't. He just stood there, looking at her. She was less than six inches from him. He could smell the faint scent of some bath oil coming off her mocha colored skin. Her face was indifferent, appraising, almost business-like.
She would fuck. He knew it right then.
Suddenly she reached down and put her hand inside his pants. She grabbed his cock. It was still semi-erect.
When she looked up, her face had not changed.
"I thought white boys where supposed to have small dicks" she said, matter-of-factly.
"You've been wanting to do that all day, haven't you?" he said, smiling again.
She looked at him again briefly, her hand still on his cock. Then she let him go and turned around, walking away from him as she reached up and undid the clasp that held her hair up away from her face. He watched as her hair rolled down her back in thick, sexy curls that shone rich and black in the diffuse harsh light of the overhead halogen bulbs. She walked to the back of the sales floor to a door marked with a sign that read: "restroom - employees only". She looked back over her shoulder at him showing off her rapturous hair and the maddening curves her jeans made over her pert, tight ass.
"You coming?" she asked, her expression still nuetral.
He started across the room, and he had to remind himself not to run. He entered the restroom with her and closed the door. The room contained only a a mirror, a sink, and a wooden stall with a toilet. The light was the same halogen glare as out on the sales floor. They stood there for a moment, neither speaking. He pulled his apron over his head and tossed it aside. She had no apron, and merely looked at him, still appraising, like a jungle cat homing in for a kill. Then, abruptly, she grabbed him by the back of the neck and was kissing him. She kissed him like he might have expected, had he been expecting anything: roughly, forcefully. He felt her push her tongue into his mouth. His hard cock pressed against her.
He put a hand inside her sweater, feeling the exciting softness of her breast. He worked his hand down her stomach and found the clasp of her jeans. Unfastening it, he worked the jeans over her hips while he kissed her, exposing her bright red thong. He left her jeans dangling halfway down to her knees so he could admire the sight of her beautiful round ass in the mirror while her tongue flicked in and out of his mouth. She stopped kissing him and looked over her shoulder at their reflection in the mirror.
"You like that ass, don't you, whiteboy?" she cooed, half mocking. "Is that what you want?"
With that she kicked off her jeans the rest of the way and while he fondled her breasts beneath the pink sweater she still wore. She turned, and for the first time grinned at him as she bent halfway over the sink, grabbing its edges with both hands. He removed her panties with one smooth motion of his hand
"You gonna fuck me?" she said huskily. "Fuck me. Fuck me." she was beginning to get excited now. He could see her nipples through the sheer fabric of her sweater again. His cock was rock hard in his pants.
He took off his shirt and dropped it, then he unbuckled his belt and let his pants fall to the floor. Slowly, he pulled his cock out and began to stroke it. He looked at her, but she was staring at his hard cock and swaying her ass subtley and seductively. She licked her lips and began to play with herself as she watched him stroke his cock.
He stepped over to her and pushed her forward a little as he rubbed his cock lightly against her clit, then he put his cock between her beautiful brown legs and thick firm ass cheeks and pushed himself into her. Her could feel the warm wet silk of her pussy as it cradled his throbbing member. He continued to slide it further in. Her generous lips had become a loose "O" shape and her eyes were shut tight in overwhelmed pleasure. Small gasping noises began to arise from her as he moved slowly in and out.
His eyes traced from her full, pouty mouth over her face to her luxurious cascade of black hair, and followed the curving lines of her lower back down to her firm naked cheeks which were rippling slightly with the motion of their sex.
She looked back over her shoulder at his cock working steadily inside of her, her face full of kinky anger, full of the pleasure of being fucked from behind with a big cock. Then she looked at him, and her eyes dared him to work harder, to give her everything she expected and more.
Suddenly he was furious. He would show the bitch. He suddenly pushed himself all the way into her. Hard. He reached out and grabbed a handful of that thick black hair - whore's hair - and yanked her head back, arching her back sharply while he pulled her hips toward him with the other hand and thrust savagely once again. She let out a small cry, but instead of stopping their motion she pressed back into him, sinking his cock as far into her as it could go. Still she pushed harder, breathing heavy and hard. "YES!" she screamed, "FUCK ME HARD, MAKE ME SCREAM!"
He could feel the heat building. His body was numb except for his cock, and there he could feel every inch of her like silken fire licking up and down its legnth. They were working towards a fever pitch, his cock like an iron rod and her screaming in a pleading tone to fuck her harder as she built towards orgasm.
She was bent over the sink, clutching it with both hands, her tits bouncing inside her pink sweater which was pulled tightly across her midsection by his hands, which had grasped the sweater across the back. He was holding her by the sweater in one hand and by her long black hair in the other, which swang wildly when she tossed her head with each savage pump.
He almost couldn't believe it was real as she writhed and screamed and moaned on his cock, as she came again and again in a rapid fire series of white hot flases. As she came for the last time, she looked back over her shoulder at him, and her steely brown eyes, made misty from the heat of their act, seemed to burn within him, and he came in a juggernaut wave of pure ecstacy.
She pushed him deep inside her as he came, and moved side to side, sending shudders of pleasure racing through his body. She pushed into him hard, as if she must have his come to survive.
Afterward he sat on the counter of the sales floor and was smoking a cigarette, when she walked out of the bathroom, wearing her clothes again.
"Get out." she said, "you're fired."
He could tell she was serious. He hit her, hard, across the side of the face with his palm, and she fell on her back across the counter. She reached up to hit him back but he fell on top of her, pinning her hands with one of his.
He ripped her sweater open with the other, popping the buttons off. Her breast erupted from the remains of the sweater, and he continued to hold her hands while he cupped one breast and bit her nipple hard enough to hurt. He hit her across the face again, and then let her hands go. She sat up and tore his pants off and plunged his cock into her mouth.
30 minutes later they rose from the countertop, him with scratches covering his back, and her with bruises surrounding her neck. They kissed, and left without saying another word.
Neither one made it into work the next morning.
