A Slut

Last night around ten, I realised I needed a job. I looked down at my attire. It was Laicise; but it was in that going-out sort of way, not in that professional sort of way. Don’t do it, I warned myself. You’re three sheets to the wind and you’re dressed like a slut. Don’t even think about it…

A pair of automatic doors slid open in front of me, and I found myself stumbling up to the customer service desk of the biggest superstore in town.

‘We’re closed,’ the woman behind the counter said without looking up as she counted the takings in her register.

‘I just wanted to know if you’re hiring.’
She laid down a wad of notes and sighed. ‘I think the produce department is looking for someone… Actually, this might be a good time to catch the manager. It’s that way.’

I started walking ‘that way’. The aisles got emptier and emptier. After going a full minute without seeing anybody, I reached the corner of the store that houses the produce depart¬ment. There was a tall guy in a button-down shirt standing in front of the aubergines. He was absorbed in checking items off a list, and didn’t see me at first.

‘Are you the produce manager?’ I asked.
He looked up. ‘Yes. Can I help you with something?’
‘Customer service said you were hiring. Is that right?’
He sucked in a deep breath and glanced at his watch. ‘Come with me.’

We went into his office. It was spinning. The water cooler kept tilting in such a way that I wanted to rush over and catch it before it fell. This is the lousiest idea ever, I thought for the umpteenth time since entering the store.

Tell me about yourself,’ he began. ‘Why do you want to work for our produce department?’
‘I, uh, love vegetables.’
He blinked. ‘You love vegetables… Is that | it?’
‘Well, and fruit, too.’ I stood up. ‘Look, I’m | really sorry to have bothered you—’
‘Sit down. Stay. Talk to me for a second | here.’
I sat.

He puffed out his cheeks and leaned forward, drumming his pencil on the desk. ‘You love vegetables. That’s why you’re here. And fruit.’

I know it sounds stupid— He stopped drumming the pencil and looked at me sharply. ‘I don’t think it’s stupid, love vegetables and fruit, too.’
‘Oh, of course. But you don’t, you know, if someone asks, you don’t—’
Talk about it?’ His face eased into a smile. It hadn’t occurred to me earlier through my drunken haze, but now that I was making an sffort to interact with him and not come off as ;razy, I realized he was pretty hot. The whole thing was pretty hot: sitting in his office alone with him, feeling like I had just confessed something dirty…

‘Come with me, I’m going to show you the fridge.’
Must have been a decent enough first im¬pression, anyway.
I followed him to an aluminium cavern full of produce in every colour of the rainbow. He opened the door and stepped aside to let me go in first.
‘So this is where you store everything be¬fore it goes on the shelf?’

That’s right. Here are some radishes. Our first shipment of the season. There are no rad¬ishes on the shelf right now. I’m going to take one for later. You won’t tell, will you?’

Without waiting for a response, he plucked one out of the crate and slipped it into his pocket. ‘Oh, and the cucumbers. I’ll need one of those, too.’
‘You’re going to steal a whole salad’s worth?’
‘Does that bother you?’ The cold had sobered me up to some de¬gree. My joints ached and I felt tired. I didn’t really care what the right answer was. ‘Just wasn’t expecting it,’ I said.

‘I wasn’t expecting you to walk in asking for a job right before I was ready to go home. But I have a definite opinion on it.’

My face reddened and I edged toward the door. ‘Look, we don’t have to do this now. I can come back some other time… To be hon¬est with you, I’m not exactly in top-notch in¬terviewing condition right now.’ ‘You’ve been drinking?’ ‘Yeah.’

His gaze flickered downward, to the spot where the hem of my skirt brushed my thighs. There are goosebumps all over your legs,’ he commented. ‘Are you cold in here? Is this cold to you?’ I shrugged.

‘Because you’d have to work in here every day if I hired you. And I want you to be comfortable.’
‘I wouldn’t be wearing a miniskirt every day.’
He laughed. ‘How do you know that’s not the standard uniform?’
‘Are you kidding? Have you seen the ugly things they put those poor girls in?’ I paused. ‘Sorry.’
He gave me the benefit of his winning smile again. ‘I knew it. You don’t really want to work here.’
It was a lost cause by this time. ‘Yeah, you caught me. Now can we go back out where it’s warm?’ ‘Sure.’

Again he held the door open for me, and this time 1 felt something hard press into my right arse cheek momentarily. I turned around, but the produce manager was just standing there.
‘What?’ he asked, when I raised a quizzi¬cal eyebrow at him.
He had his hand in his pocket. I nodded to¬ward it. ‘Is that a cucumber in your pocket?’
‘You know it is. Not that it matters. There’s no one around by this time to care anyway.’ He brought it out into the open and held it out to me. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to take it or not. ‘So you really just came in here be¬cause you love vegetables.’
‘I came in here because I’m broke.’
Then you don’t love vegetables?’
He looked wounded, so I said quickly, There’s nothing wrong with working in pro¬duce. It’s just not for me. Not in this setting. Not with the uniforms and stuff.’
‘You like to wear miniskirts?’
‘And bathing suits.’
There’s always dancing,’ he suggested. ‘Your whole act could be on a fruit and veg¬etables theme.’
I laughed. ‘Oh, yeah, like suck off a banana on stage or something?’

He pushed the cucumber forward. My hand closed around it reflexively. ‘Only one way to tell if it’s your true calling.’ He grinned.

I tend to be slow on the sexual uptake, but by this time there was no mistaking what I had felt on my way out of the fridge. The knowledge should have freaked me out. In¬stead, a drop of moisture caught between my pussy lips. Here I had wandered into a situa¬tion where someone I found attractive found me attractive back to the point where he was risking his job over it. Textbook romance.

What the hell, I thought, and danced.

The cucumber was warm from his pocket, but because it had been removed from the fridge just a few moments before, there was condensation on it. It felt like a warm, damp dick in my hands. I closed my eyes and brought it up to stroke the outside of my ear, letting it tickle from the top on down to the lobe. I felt every millimetre of movement as a pang in my pussy. My labia were practi¬cally afloat now. I could picture them, red and swollen. I brought the cucumber to my lips and gave it a long lick from end to end, just like I would a big, thick cock.

‘Mmm, yeah,’ I heard the produce man¬ager whisper.

Without opening my eyes, I ran my tongue around the outside of the cucumber in circles, bouncing it toward my nose with my hand every couple times to mimic the way a cock throbs. At the same time, I reached down and grabbed a bunch of my skirt in my left hand, letting him see the inner thighs almost up to my snatch.

‘Oh…

I let my skirt go, smoothed it back out, re¬adjusted my grip. My right hand moved the cucumber until the tip of it was brushing my lips, then pressing hard against my mouth as my mouth pressed back, kissing the tip of it, teasing it… I pulled my skirt up again and rubbed my hand over my thigh, teasing my¬self, too, coming up close to my pantyline and then receding, the fingers burning thin trails into my inner thigh.

‘Put it in your mouth. Suck on it.’

I opened my eyes just a slit. He was leaning against the apple display, watching my mouth. His trousers were unzipped and he had his cock in his hand, stroking the shaft slowly. I pushed just the tip of the toy between my lips and sucked, nudging it with my tongue as if in hopes he could feel it. His muscles tightened as if he could. I drew back. When I put it in my mouth again, it was deeper, the thickness of it prying my lips wide, pressing down on my tongue. His hips rose in a thrust and the strokes of his hand became quicker. A drop of white liquid oozed from the tip. ‘You love sucking that thing, don’t you?’

I nodded, head bobbing faster now in time with his hand movement. I wished I could taste his come.
‘Say it. Say you love sucking that thing off.’
’1 love it,’ I said obediently, drawing back
to flick my tongue in a circle around the tip. ‘I love sucking this thing off. Mmm, yeah, I love it in my mouth…’
‘I bet you want to touch your pussy, don’t you?’
‘Oh, God, yes. I want to touch my pussy so bad.’
Without pausing in his masturbation, he reached into his pocket, brought out the rad¬ish, and put it in my hand. ‘Here. Let me see you rub this on your clit.’

I sat on the display across from him and started to hike up my skirt with both hands.
‘Did I say you could stop sucking that thing off?’
‘No, sir.’ I shoved the cucumber between my lips again and kept shoving until it hit the back of my throat. It filled my mouth so full. I wanted to fuck it. But for now only clitoral pleasure was allowed. I pulled my skirt up with just my left hand and spread my legs wide so it would stay in a bunch around my waist. He had a full view of my pussy now, pink and swollen and creamy, begging for his cock. ‘Rub your clit,’ he commanded. I ran the radish in a circle around my clit,

‘ letting it soak in my warm juices.
‘Yeah, that’s right. Suck that thing and rub your clit.’ Pre-come was dripping down
, his dick. His thumb caught a little of it, and the rest he rubbed on his shaft. I kept sucking and rubbing, touching my clit directly now, tweaking it vigorously over and over, visualising a tongue.
‘Oh yeah, you like that, don’t you?’ He stared at the liquid that was dripping out of my slit and down my thighs as we wanked off together. ‘You like playing with your clit.’ ‘ He nodded toward his stiff cock. ‘You want to suck my cock instead? You want to get down on your knees and have me fuck you in your mouth while you play with your clit?’

Wordlessly, I threw the cucumber on the floor, kneeled in front of him, and took his hard-on in my mouth, finally tasting his cock and his come. I spread my legs as far as they would go so I would still have sufficient height to reach his crotch with my face, and rubbed my cream-covered clit at a feverish pace.

‘I love watching you suck my cock,’ he murmured, picking my head up by the hair and then pushing it back down again. ‘Are you gonna come? Are you gonna come for me?’

I nodded.
‘Say you’re gonna come for me.’
‘I’m gonna come,’ I screamed against his dick. ‘Oh, fuck, yeah…’
‘No! Not yet.’ He pushed me backward on to the floor. I landed hard on my arse, skirt still up around my waist. His cock jutted out from his fly, slick with my saliva. ‘Don’t come yet.’ He crouched next to me and picked up the cucumber. ‘We’re not done. You want this inside you, don’t you?’
I nodded, still rubbing my clit slowly, mo¬mentarily shocked away from the verge of orgasm.
‘Yeah, you do. Lean back.’
I leaned back on my elbows so I could watch. He wanked himself with his left hand now. With his right he slipped the cucumber into my pussy; slipped it in and then withdrew, and then slipped it in again, deeper. I moaned softly and rode it, felt it filling me, straining powerfully against my inner walls while my clit still tingled with the motions of the other toy. He started going faster and harder, his breath quickening. He reached up and squeezed the back of my neck in time with his thrusts. I could tell he was near orgasm himself, and he wanted my pussy as badly as I wanted his cock. I stared hungrily as the cucumber moved up and down, and he stared at me staring. I wanted him to come in me, and he knew it, and knowing it was driving him crazy. Finally, he pulled away and stood up. I cried out at the sudden vacancy in my pussy. ‘Get up,’ he commanded.

I did. He slammed me into the apple dis¬play face-first. Some of them went cascad¬ing down on to the floor. I was still holding the radish, and knowing I was wanted so badly caused my hand to move it over my clit with renewed vigour. He pushed the cucumber into me from behind, keeping a hand on my back, pushing me down, locking me in place so I couldn’t have moved if I’d wanted to other than to squirm with pleasure. ‘You like being fucked like this?’

‘Oh, God, yes,’ I screamed into the apples.

Tm going to fuck you in the arse.’ He pressed just the head of his cock between my cheeks, and an involuntary throb of excite¬ment opened my arsehole barely enough for him to enter. ‘Is that what you want? You like being fucked in the arse?’

‘I love it… I love being fucked in the arse…’

He went in a little deeper on the next push. The motion in my pussy quickened, almost bringing me to climax. Then he went in all the way, filling me up all the way, my arsehole and my pussy both while I played with my clit, and kept pumping, kept slamming me over and over.

‘Oh, yeah, fuck me,’ I screamed. ‘Fuck me hard… That’s right… I love your cock in my arse… Fuck my arse… That’s right… Oh I’m gonna come…’

‘Do it,’ he breathed into my ear. ‘Come for me now.’
My pussy convulsed and I collapsed screaming while his hand restrained me. He pushed down so hard I could barely breathe. As soon as I was finished, he pulled out of my arse. ‘Roll over. I’m gonna come on your tits.’

I rolled over and pulled up my shirt. ‘Oh, yeah, come on my tits. I want you to come on my tits.’

It only took him a couple of seconds of wanking before white liquid spewed out head of his cock and sprayed my bare skin; running down from the base of my neck through the valley between my tits and all over my hard lit¬tle nipples, bathing my whole torso in come.

He collapsed on top of me. We lay in the apples for a second as if in our own orchard, without a care in the world.

‘Well,’ he said finally. ‘Looks like dancer might be the only way to go for you.’

‘Are you kidding? You mean I didn’t get the job?’

He laughed. ‘Well… You do seem to love vegetables an awful lot. But there’s more money in dancing, believe me.’

‘So you’re saying I’m too good for your produce department?’

Tell you what.’ He stood up, reached into the pocket that hadn’t been holding the vegetables, and pulled out a pencil and notepad. This is the number for my own personal produce department. Call any time. I’m fre¬quently in need of — shall we say, temporary employees.’

It was obviously his home number. I winked and took it from him. Thank you, sir. Look for¬ward to working with you again.’