The fluorescent lights of the department store hum above me, casting a sterile glow over the racks of designer clothes and glittering displays of jewelry. My boots thud against the polished floor as I patrol the aisles, my broad shoulders filling out the crisp black uniform that clings to my muscled frame. At 6’4” and 240 pounds of solid muscle, I’m not just a security guard—I’m a fucking wall. My biceps strain against the sleeves, and the weight of my cock, thick and heavy even at rest, shifts in my pants with every step. I’ve caught plenty of shoplifters in my time, but there’s something about today that feels different. The air’s charged, like a storm’s brewing.
I spot her near the lingerie section, a petite blonde, barely 18 by the look of her. She’s all delicate angles and smooth, creamy skin, her frame so slight it’s like a gust of wind could knock her over. Her golden hair falls in loose waves past her shoulders, catching the light as she moves. She’s wearing a tight white crop top that hugs her perky tits—small but perfectly round, with just a hint of cleavage peeking out—and a pleated pink miniskirt that barely covers her ass. Her thighs are slender, her calves taut in white sneakers. She’s a walking fantasy, but there’s a nervous energy to her, the kind that screams trouble. Her fingers linger too long on a lacy black thong, her eyes darting to the side. Gotcha.
I hang back, watching as she slips the thong into her tiny purse, her movements quick but not quick enough. My pulse kicks up, not just from the thrill of the catch but from the way her skirt rides up as she bends slightly, flashing the curve of her ass. I adjust myself, my cock already stirring at the thought of what’s coming. She’s mine now.
“Excuse me, miss,” I say, my voice low and commanding as I step into her path. She freezes, her big blue eyes wide as they meet mine. Her lips, glossy and pink, part slightly, and I can see the pulse hammering in her throat. “You’re gonna need to come with me.”
She stammers, clutching her purse. “W-what? I didn’t do anything!” Her voice is high, a little shaky, but there’s a spark of defiance in it. Fuck, that’s hot. I step closer, towering over her, my shadow swallowing her tiny frame.
“Don’t play dumb,” I growl, leaning in just enough to catch the faint scent of her perfume—something sweet, like vanilla and strawberries. “I saw you. Back office. Now.” I gesture toward the hallway, my hand brushing her arm. Her skin’s soft, warm, and I feel her tremble under my touch. My cock twitches, already half-hard.
She hesitates, then nods, her shoulders slumping as she follows me. The walk to the back office is silent, her sneakers squeaking faintly against the floor. I can feel her eyes on me, probably taking in the way my uniform stretches across my back, the bulge of my arms. Good. Let her look. Let her wonder.
The office is small, a cramped room with a metal desk, a chair, and a flickering overhead light. I lock the door behind us, the click loud in the quiet. She stands in the middle of the room, clutching her purse like a lifeline, her tits rising and falling with each quick breath. I lean against the desk, crossing my arms, letting her stew for a moment.
“Empty the purse,” I say, my tone leaving no room for argument. She bites her lip, her cheeks flushing pink, and I can’t help but imagine those lips wrapped around my cock. Slowly, she tips the purse onto the desk, and there it is—the lacy black thong, stark against the scattered lip gloss and crumpled receipts. I pick it up, running the delicate fabric between my fingers. “This yours?”
She doesn’t answer, just looks down, her lashes casting shadows on her cheeks. I step closer, close enough to feel the heat radiating off her. “You know what happens to thieves, don’t you?” I say, my voice dropping to a rumble. “Cops get called. Record gets fucked. Or…” I pause, letting the word hang in the air, heavy with promise. Her eyes flick up to mine, wide and curious, a flicker of something—fear, maybe, but also desire. My cock’s fully hard now, straining against my zipper.
“Or what?” she whispers, her voice barely audible. Fuck, she’s playing right into it.
I smirk, leaning down until my face is inches from hers. “Or we work out a deal. You give me something… and I let you walk.” My eyes rake over her, lingering on her tits, her tiny waist, Hosted on the crotch of her skirt where I can just imagine the outline of her pussy. “Your choice, sweetheart.”
Her breath hitches, and I can see the conflict in her eyes—panic warring with something hotter, something that makes her thighs press together. I don’t push, not yet. I want her to come to me, to choose this. But I’m not a patient man, and my cock’s throbbing, begging for release. I straighten, unbuckling my belt with deliberate slowness, the metal clinking in the silence. Her eyes drop to my crotch, and I see her swallow hard.
“What’s it gonna be?” I ask, my hand resting on my zipper. The ball’s in her court, but I know how this ends. They always choose the deal. And I’m gonna make sure she never forgets it.
Her eyes are locked on my hand, hovering over the zipper of my uniform pants, where the outline of my cock presses hard against the fabric. The air in the cramped office feels thick, charged with the scent of her sweet perfume and the faint musk of my own arousal. Her petite frame trembles slightly, those perky tits rising and falling faster now, her glossy lips parted as she processes my offer. I can see the wheels turning in her head—fear, shame, but also that undeniable spark of curiosity, the kind that makes her pupils dilate and her thighs shift. My cock pulses, aching to be freed, but I hold back, letting the tension build. I want her to want this, to beg for it.
She licks her lips, a quick, nervous flick of her tongue that sends a jolt straight to my groin. “I… I don’t want the cops,” she murmurs, her voice soft but laced with something daring. Her blue eyes flick up to mine, and there’s a challenge in them now, like she’s testing me. “What do you want me to do?”
I let out a low chuckle, the sound rough in my throat. “Oh, sweetheart, you know exactly what I want.” I step closer, my boots heavy on the floor, until I’m looming over her. She’s so fucking small, barely reaching my chest, her delicate frame dwarfed by my bulk. I reach out, my fingers grazing her jaw, tilting her face up. Her skin’s like silk, warm and smooth, and she doesn’t pull away. “Take off that little top. Let me see what you’re hiding under there.”
Her breath catches, but she doesn’t hesitate long. Her fingers, trembling slightly, grasp the hem of her tight white crop top. She pulls it up slowly, inch by inch, revealing a flat, toned stomach, the faint outline of her ribs, and then—fuck—her tits, barely contained by a lacy pink bra. The fabric is sheer, her nipples visible as hard little peaks beneath it. They’re small, maybe a B-cup, but perfectly round, sitting high on her chest, the kind of tits that beg to be touched. She tosses the top aside, and it lands on the desk, a crumpled heap next to the stolen thong.
“Good girl,” I growl, my voice thick with want. My cock’s so hard it hurts, straining against my pants, but I’m not done savoring her. “Now the bra. Show me those pretty tits.”
Her cheeks flush deeper, but there’s a flicker of defiance in her eyes as she reaches behind her back, unhooking the bra with a soft click. The straps slide down her slender arms, and she lets it fall, revealing her bare breasts. They’re even better than I imagined—pale and creamy, with dusky pink nipples that tighten under my gaze. I can’t help myself; I reach out, cupping one in my palm, my thumb brushing over the nipple. She gasps, a sharp little sound that makes my cock throb. Her tit fits perfectly in my hand, soft yet firm, and I roll the nipple between my fingers, watching her bite her lip to stifle a moan.
“Fuck, you’re perfect,” I mutter, my other hand gripping her waist, feeling the curve of her hips under that tiny skirt. I pull her closer, her bare tits pressing against my chest, the heat of her body seeping through my uniform. “Get on your knees.”
She hesitates, just for a second, but then she sinks down, her knees hitting the cold tile floor. Her face is level with my crotch now, and I can see the way her eyes widen at the bulge in my pants. I unzip slowly, the sound loud in the quiet room, and shove my pants and boxers down just enough to free my cock. It springs out, thick and heavy, the head already glistening with precum. Nine inches of solid girth, veins pulsing along the shaft, and her lips part in a mix of shock and awe.
“Ever seen one this big?” I ask, smirking as I grip the base, giving it a slow stroke. She shakes her head, her blonde hair swaying, and I can tell she’s nervous but intrigued. “Go on, touch it.”
Her small hand reaches out, tentative at first, her fingers wrapping around my shaft. They barely close around the girth, and the sight of her delicate hand on my cock nearly makes me lose it. She strokes lightly, her touch unsure but warm, and I groan, the sound low and guttural. “Fuck, that’s it. Now put those pretty lips on it.”
She leans forward, her breath hot against the head, and then her tongue darts out, licking the precum from the tip. The sensation’s electric, sending a shiver down my spine. Her lips close around the head, soft and wet, and she sucks gently, her tongue swirling. I tangle my fingers in her hair, guiding her, urging her to take more. She does, inch by inch, her mouth stretching to accommodate my size. The warmth of her throat, the slight gag as she pushes deeper, has me gritting my teeth to keep control.
“Fuck, you’re good at this,” I rasp, my hips rocking slightly, fucking her mouth in slow, shallow thrusts. Her hands grip my thighs, nails digging into the muscle, and I can hear the soft, wet sounds of her sucking, the occasional muffled moan vibrating against my cock. I look down, and the sight of her—petite, blonde, on her knees with my cock in her mouth—is almost too much.
But I’m not done with her yet. I pull back, my cock slipping from her lips with a wet pop, a string of saliva connecting her mouth to the tip. She looks up at me, lips swollen, eyes glassy with lust. “Stand up,” I order, my voice rough. “Skirt off. I want to see that pussy.”
She rises, her legs shaky, and hooks her thumbs into the waistband of her pink miniskirt. She slides it down, revealing a matching pink thong, the fabric so thin it’s practically see-through. The crotch is damp, clinging to the outline of her pussy, and I can smell her arousal now, sweet and musky. My mouth waters, but I hold back, watching as she steps out of the skirt, kicking it aside. Her thighs are smooth, her hips narrow, and that thong barely covers the prize I’m after.
“Thong too,” I say, my hand stroking my cock slowly, keeping myself on edge. She hesitates, then slips the thong down, letting it pool at her ankles. Her pussy’s bare, not a hint of hair, the lips plump and pink, glistening with her wetness. Her clit peeks out, a small, swollen nub begging for attention. I step closer, my fingers brushing her inner thigh, and she gasps, her legs parting instinctively. I slide one finger along her slit, feeling the slick heat, and she moans, her head tipping back.
“Fuck, you’re soaked,” I mutter, circling her clit with my thumb. Her hips buck, and I can feel her trembling, her body desperate for more. I drop to my knees, my face level with her pussy, and inhale deeply, savoring her scent. I spread her lips with my fingers, exposing her fully, and lean in, my tongue dragging slowly over her clit. She cries out, her hands grabbing my shoulders for balance, and I lick again, tasting her sweetness, the tang of her arousal coating my tongue.
I eat her out like a starving man, sucking her clit, tonguing her entrance, feeling her juices drip down my chin. Her moans are louder now, desperate, and her thighs quiver as I push a finger inside her, then two, stretching her tight little pussy. “Oh, fuck,” she gasps, her voice high and breathy, and I can tell she’s close, her walls clenching around my fingers.
But I’m not letting her come yet. I stand, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, and lift her effortlessly, setting her on the edge of the desk. Her legs spread wide, her pussy glistening under the harsh light, and I position myself between her thighs, my cock brushing against her entrance. “You ready for this?” I ask, gripping my shaft, rubbing the head along her slit, teasing her.
She nods, her eyes locked on mine, and I push in, slow at first, feeling her stretch around my girth. She’s tight, so fucking tight, and I groan as I sink deeper, inch by inch, until I’m buried to the hilt. Her pussy grips me like a vise, wet and hot, and she whimpers, her nails digging into my arms. “Fuck, you’re big,” she moans, her voice trembling with pain and pleasure.
I start to move, slow thrusts at first, letting her adjust, but the feel of her, the sight of her tits bouncing, her pussy swallowing my cock—it’s too much. I pick up the pace, fucking her harder, the desk creaking under us. Her moans turn to cries, her legs wrapping around my waist, pulling me deeper. “Oh, fuck, yes,” she gasps, her head thrown back, and I can feel her getting close again, her walls fluttering around me.
“Gonna come for me, sweetheart?” I growl, slamming into her, my balls slapping against her ass. She nods, frantic, and I reach down, rubbing her clit in tight circles. That’s all it takes—she screams, her pussy clenching so hard it nearly pushes me out, her juices soaking my cock. I keep fucking her through it, chasing my own release, and it hits me like a freight train. I pull out at the last second, stroking myself as I come, thick ropes of cum splattering across her tits, her stomach, dripping down to her pussy.
We’re both panting, the office reeking of sex, and I look at her—disheveled, cum-streaked, utterly fucked. “What’s your name?” I ask, my voice hoarse, as I tuck myself back into my pants.
She smiles, a little shy, a little wicked. “Chloe.”
I nod, grabbing a tissue from the desk to clean her up. “Get dressed, Chloe. You’re free to go. But don’t let me catch you here again… unless you want a repeat.”
She laughs, soft and breathy, and I know this won’t be the last time I see her.