The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead as I moved, my heart pounding so loudly I was sure everyone could hear it. I tried to look casual, picking up a bottle of shampoo here and a packet of biscuits there, slipping them into my bag when no one was looking. I told myself it was just this once—just to get by.
I headed towards the door, my bag heavier now, my steps quicker. I was almost there, almost free. But then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw him—a big, black guard standing by the exit, his presence filling the space like a wall.
“Excuse me, miss,” he said, his voice deep and firm. I froze, my breath catching in my throat. His radio crackled to life, and I could hear the chatter from the other end. For a moment, I thought about running. But his eyes held mine, and I knew it was no use.
He reached for his radio, his gaze never leaving me. “I’ve got this,” he said into the radio, a hint of a smile on his lips. “I can handle this.”
He gestured for me to follow him, and my feet moved as if alone. My mind raced, a jumble of fear and regret. We walked through the store, past curious shoppers, to a door marked “Employees Only.” He opened it and ushered me inside.
The back office was small and cluttered, with a desk piled high with papers and a row of security monitors blinking in the corner. The guard closed the door behind us, the click of the lock sounding ominous in the quiet room.
“Empty your bag,” he said, his voice softer now but still commanding. My hands shook as I fumbled with the zipper, pulling out the stolen items one by one—shampoo, biscuits, and a few other things I couldn’t even remember grabbing.
He watched me, his expression unreadable. I felt a wave of shame crash over me, hot and suffocating. What had I been thinking? Why had I done this?
“Why?” he asked, his tone not unkind, just curious. I looked up at him, tears stinging my eyes.
“I… I didn’t have a choice,” I whispered, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. “I needed this stuff and didn’t have any money.”
He sighed, running a hand over his head. “Jessie, right?” he said, glancing at the ID I had to show earlier. I nodded, surprised he remembered.
“Look, Jessie,” he said, leaning against the desk. “I get it. Times are tough. But this isn’t the way to handle it. Do you understand?”
I nodded again, my throat tight. I felt small and foolish, like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar.
“Alright,” he said, straightening up. “Time to search you,” he added under his breath while he licked his lips. His words surprised me, cutting through my shame and embarrassment like a knife. My face flushed with heat, a mix of anger and mortification bubbling up within me. But as he started patting me down, his movements organized and professional, I calmed down, my breath returning to a steady rhythm.
He searched my pockets and the waistband of my pants, not finding anything else. Then, his hands moved down my thighs, pressing against my legs, then my knees, then… my hips. Then while he stood behind me, he squeezed both my tits, “got to make sure you know.”
“Lift up your shirt,” he instructed, and I followed his command without hesitation, pulling up the hem of my sweater to reveal my plain white underwear. I could feel his gaze on me, heavy and probing. I wondered if he could see the telltale signs of my arousal, my nipples pebbled into hard points under the thin cotton.
His hands moved to my waist, and I felt a shiver of anticipation run down my spine. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of my underwear, and I held my breath as he slowly began to pull them down.
I stepped out of them, my heart pounding in my chest. I could feel the heat of his gaze on me, and I felt a surge of vulnerability and arousal. I had never been so exposed in front of a stranger before, and yet, there was something thrilling about it.
He stepped closer to me, his body looming over mine. I could feel the heat of his breath on my neck, and I closed my eyes, my senses overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment.
“Should I let you go with no police involved, tell me, or should I make you pay for what you’ve done?” he whispered in my ear, his voice low and dangerous.
“By the look of your petite frame, my black cock would destroy you, I think you need to pay for your crimes little slut,” he said as he undid his belt.
He bent me over the desk, I looked back over my shoulder, catching a glimpse of his thick, hard length. I started to panick as I saw the size of his dick. OMG, it was fucking huge, thick and pulsating and very big.
He nudged my legs apart, and I spread them willingly, eager for what was to come. He rubbed the head of his cock against my white tight pussy, and I moaned, the sensation sending waves of pleasure through my body.
“Are you ready to pay for your crimes, little slut?” he asked, his voice rough with desire. I nodded, my throat too tight to speak.
“I-I don’t think that will fit inside me, I…” I was cut off as he stuff it inside my cunt.
I gasped as he filled me, my pussy stretching to accommodate his girth. He began to move, his thrusts slow and measured at first, then building in intensity. I cried out, my hands gripping the edge of the desk as he took me roughly from behind.
“Ah yes, you feel a lot tighter than my wife, you little whore,” he growled, his voice a low rumble against my ear. His hands moved to my hips, gripping them tight as he thrust deeper inside me.
With each stroke, he touched a place inside me I didn’t know existed, igniting a fire that spread through my body. I could feel every inch of him, the textured skin of his shaft, the veins pulsing with his desire, the heavy weight of him as he pressed me into the desk.
I closed my eyes, surrendering to the sensations that overwhelmed me. I had never felt this way before, so owned, so possessed. It was terrifying, but also exhilarating.
“This is what you get, little slut,” he said, as he slammed his cock in and out me as his finger entered my asshole.
As he took me roughly from behind, every inch of him filling and stretching me, his thick cock hitting that pleasurable spot deep within me, I could hardly breathe. The pleasure washed over me in waves so intense that I could only gasp and moan.
“Have you ever taken a big black cock before, ahh your pussy feels good, you are so fucking tight, I’m going to fill you with my cum,” he groaned, his fingers digging into my hips as he fucked me with a primal intensity that left me dizzy and disoriented.
“Fucking answer me, have you ever taken a big black cock before,” he said very demanding.
“No,” I managed to gasp, my voice barely audible. “You’re my first.”
He stilled for a moment, his cock buried deep inside me. “Really?” he asked, a hint of disbelief in his voice. I nodded, feeling a rush of vulnerability and shame.
He pulled out of me, “time to make a gaping hole,” he laughed, as he pressed the head of his cock against my super tight asshole.
As he pressed against my tight hole, I tensed up, fear and anticipation coursing through me. I had never taken a cock there before, and the thought of it was both terrifying and thrilling.
“Relax, Jessie,” he said, his voice softer now. “I won’t hurt you.”
He rubbed the head of his cock against my asshole, coating it with my wetness. I took a deep breath, trying to relax my muscles as he pushed inside me.
At first, it was uncomfortable, a burning sensation that made me want to cry out. But then, as he slowly moved deeper inside me, the pain began to fade, replaced by a feeling of fullness and pressure that was unlike anything I had ever experienced.
He began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate at first, then building in intensity. I could feel every inch of him, the textured skin of his shaft, the veins pulsing with his desire, the heavy weight of him as he pressed me into the desk.
The pleasure was intense, building with each stroke until I felt like I was on the brink of an explosion. I could feel my orgasm building, a wave of pleasure that threatened to consume me.
“You ready to suck this big cock, if you swallow I will let you keep the things you stole,” he said pulling his cock out my ass. He brought me to my knees.
I looked up at him, my eyes wide with shock and desire. I had never done anything like this before, but there was something about him that made me want to submit.
I opened my mouth, my tongue darting out to taste him. He tasted salty and musky, a heady mix of sweat and desire. I closed my lips around him, my mouth stretching to accommodate his girth.
He groaned as I began to suck him, his hands gripping my hair as he guided my movements. I closed my eyes, focusing on the sensation of him filling my mouth, the feel of his cock sliding against my tongue.
I could feel his pleasure building, his thrusts becoming more urgent as he approached his climax. I moaned around him, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through his body.
“Fuck, you’re good at this,” he growled, his fingers tightening in my hair. “You’re going to make me cum, little slut.”
I felt a surge of pride at his words, a thrill at the thought of bringing him to orgasm. I sucked harder, my tongue swirling around him as I took him deeper into my mouth.
With a final, powerful thrust, he came, his hot, salty cum filling my mouth. I swallowed, my throat working as I took him down. He groaned, his hands relaxing in my hair as he caught his breath.
“Good girl,” he said, stroking my cheek as he pulled out of my mouth. “You’ve earned your freedom.”
He helped me to my feet, his hands steady and sure. I looked up at him, feeling a mix of emotions—shame, excitement, gratitude.
“Remember, Jessie,” he said, his voice serious now. “This doesn’t change what you did. But I’m willing to give you a second chance. Don’t waste it.”
I nodded, my throat too tight to speak. I gathered my things, my heart still pounding in my chest.
As I left the store, I felt a sense of relief wash over me. I had made it out, my secret still safe. But I couldn’t shake the feeling of what had just happened, the memory of his cock inside me, the taste of his cum on my tongue.
My phone buzzed it was a text from my boyfriend saying, ‘where are you we was supposed to meet, what have you been doing.’
I text back and put, “Just running some errands, be there soon,” I replied, my pulse still racing from the encounter. I couldn’t tell him what had really happened, the thought too shameful to put into words.
He text back, “can’t wait to have sex later,” I sent a message back, “not today I feel abit sore if thats ok.”
He started to act paranoid as he text me back, “Sore from what? Did something happen? Did you do something you’re not telling me?”
I text him back, “What the fuck you getting at, I’m just tired from the day, that’s all. Let’s just drop it and move on, okay? I don’t need this shit from fucking you.” I replied, trying to keep my tone light and dismissive. I couldn’t bear the thought of him finding out what had really happened.
He text, “Really, doesn’t explain how your pussy his sore.”
I didn’t respond to his last message, feeling a wave of guilt wash over me. I knew I couldn’t keep this secret from him forever, but for now, I just wanted to push it aside and pretend it never happened.
He sent another text, “slag.”
I ignored his last message and put my phone away, with tears in my eyes.
I eventaully got home, I headed straight for the shower, I Continue story first person as Jessie:
The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead as I moved, my heart pounding so loudly I was sure everyone could hear it. I tried to look casual, picking up a bottle of shampoo here and a packet of biscuits there, slipping them into my bag when no one was looking. I told myself it was just this once—just to get by.
I headed towards the door, my bag heavier now, my steps quicker. I was almost there, almost free. But then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw him—a big, black guard standing by the exit, his presence filling the space like a wall.
“Excuse me, miss,” he said, his voice deep and firm. I froze, my breath catching in my throat. His radio crackled to life, and I could hear the chatter from the other end. For a moment, I thought about running. But his eyes held mine, and I knew it was no use.
He reached for his radio, his gaze never leaving me. “I’ve got this,” he said into the radio, a hint of a smile on his lips. “I can handle this.”
He gestured for me to follow him, and my feet moved as if alone. My mind raced, a jumble of fear and regret. We walked through the store, past curious shoppers, to a door marked “Employees Only.” He opened it and ushered me inside.
The back office was small and cluttered, with a desk piled high with papers and a row of security monitors blinking in the corner. The guard closed the door behind us, the click of the lock sounding ominous in the quiet room.
“Empty your bag,” he said, his voice softer now but still commanding. My hands shook as I fumbled with the zipper, pulling out the stolen items one by one—shampoo, biscuits, and a few other things I couldn’t even remember grabbing.
He watched me, his expression unreadable. I felt a wave of shame crash over me, hot and suffocating. What had I been thinking? Why had I done this?
“Why?” he asked, his tone not unkind, just curious. I looked up at him, tears stinging my eyes.
“I… I didn’t have a choice,” I whispered, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. “I needed this stuff and didn’t have any money.”
He sighed, running a hand over his head. “Jessie, right?” he said, glancing at the ID I had to show earlier. I nodded, surprised he remembered.
“Look, Jessie,” he said, leaning against the desk. “I get it. Times are tough. But this isn’t the way to handle it. Do you understand?”
I nodded again, my throat tight. I felt small and foolish, like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar.
“Alright,” he said, straightening up. “Time to search you,” he added under his breath while he licked his lips. His words surprised me, cutting through my shame and embarrassment like a knife. My face flushed with heat, a mix of anger and mortification bubbling up within me. But as he started patting me down, his movements organized and professional, I calmed down, my breath returning to a steady rhythm.
He searched my pockets and the waistband of my pants, not finding anything else. Then, his hands moved down my thighs, pressing against my legs, then my knees, then… my hips. Then while he stood behind me, he squeezed both my tits, “got to make sure you know.”
“Lift up your shirt,” he instructed, and I followed his command without hesitation, pulling up the hem of my sweater to reveal my plain white underwear. I could feel his gaze on me, heavy and probing. I wondered if he could see the telltale signs of my arousal, my nipples pebbled into hard points under the thin cotton.
His hands moved to my waist, and I felt a shiver of anticipation run down my spine. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of my underwear, and I held my breath as he slowly began to pull them down.
I stepped out of them, my heart pounding in my chest. I could feel the heat of his gaze on me, and I felt a surge of vulnerability and arousal. I had never been so exposed in front of a stranger before, and yet, there was something thrilling about it.
He stepped closer to me, his body looming over mine. I could feel the heat of his breath on my neck, and I closed my eyes, my senses overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment.
“Should I let you go with no police involved, tell me, or should I make you pay for what you’ve done?” he whispered in my ear, his voice low and dangerous.
“By the look of your petite frame, my black cock would destroy you, I think you need to pay for your crimes little slut,” he said as he undid his belt.
He bent me over the desk, I looked back over my shoulder, catching a glimpse of his thick, hard length. I started to panick as I saw the size of his dick. OMG, it was fucking huge, thick and pulsating and very big.
He nudged my legs apart, and I spread them willingly, eager for what was to come. He rubbed the head of his cock against my white tight pussy, and I moaned, the sensation sending waves of pleasure through my body.
“Are you ready to pay for your crimes, little slut?” he asked, his voice rough with desire. I nodded, my throat too tight to speak.
“I-I don’t think that will fit inside me, I…” I was cut off as he stuff it inside my cunt.
I gasped as he filled me, my pussy stretching to accommodate his girth. He began to move, his thrusts slow and measured at first, then building in intensity. I cried out, my hands gripping the edge of the desk as he took me roughly from behind.
“Ah yes, you feel a lot tighter than my wife, you little whore,” he growled, his voice a low rumble against my ear. His hands moved to my hips, gripping them tight as he thrust deeper inside me.
With each stroke, he touched a place inside me I didn’t know existed, igniting a fire that spread through my body. I could feel every inch of him, the textured skin of his shaft, the veins pulsing with his desire, the heavy weight of him as he pressed me into the desk.
I closed my eyes, surrendering to the sensations that overwhelmed me. I had never felt this way before, so owned, so possessed. It was terrifying, but also exhilarating.
“This is what you get, little slut,” he said, as he slammed his cock in and out me as his finger entered my asshole.
As he took me roughly from behind, every inch of him filling and stretching me, his thick cock hitting that pleasurable spot deep within me, I could hardly breathe. The pleasure washed over me in waves so intense that I could only gasp and moan.
“Have you ever taken a big black cock before, ahh your pussy feels good, you are so fucking tight, I’m going to fill you with my cum,” he groaned, his fingers digging into my hips as he fucked me with a primal intensity that left me dizzy and disoriented.
“Fucking answer me, have you ever taken a big black cock before,” he said very demanding.
“No,” I managed to gasp, my voice barely audible. “You’re my first.”
He stilled for a moment, his cock buried deep inside me. “Really?” he asked, a hint of disbelief in his voice. I nodded, feeling a rush of vulnerability and shame.
He pulled out of me, “time to make a gaping hole,” he laughed, as he pressed the head of his cock against my super tight asshole.
As he pressed against my tight hole, I tensed up, fear and anticipation coursing through me. I had never taken a cock there before, and the thought of it was both terrifying and thrilling.
“Relax, Jessie,” he said, his voice softer now. “I won’t hurt you.”
He rubbed the head of his cock against my asshole, coating it with my wetness. I took a deep breath, trying to relax my muscles as he pushed inside me.
At first, it was uncomfortable, a burning sensation that made me want to cry out. But then, as he slowly moved deeper inside me, the pain began to fade, replaced by a feeling of fullness and pressure that was unlike anything I had ever experienced.
He began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate at first, then building in intensity. I could feel every inch of him, the textured skin of his shaft, the veins pulsing with his desire, the heavy weight of him as he pressed me into the desk.
The pleasure was intense, building with each stroke until I felt like I was on the brink of an explosion. I could feel my orgasm building, a wave of pleasure that threatened to consume me.
“You ready to suck this big cock, if you swallow I will let you keep the things you stole,” he said pulling his cock out my ass. He brought me to my knees.
I looked up at him, my eyes wide with shock and desire. I had never done anything like this before, but there was something about him that made me want to submit.
I opened my mouth, my tongue darting out to taste him. He tasted salty and musky, a heady mix of sweat and desire. I closed my lips around him, my mouth stretching to accommodate his girth.
He groaned as I began to suck him, his hands gripping my hair as he guided my movements. I closed my eyes, focusing on the sensation of him filling my mouth, the feel of his cock sliding against my tongue.
I could feel his pleasure building, his thrusts becoming more urgent as he approached his climax. I moaned around him, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through his body.
“Fuck, you’re good at this,” he growled, his fingers tightening in my hair. “You’re going to make me cum, little slut.”
I felt a surge of pride at his words, a thrill at the thought of bringing him to orgasm. I sucked harder, my tongue swirling around him as I took him deeper into my mouth.
With a final, powerful thrust, he came, his hot, salty cum filling my mouth. I swallowed, my throat working as I took him down. He groaned, his hands relaxing in my hair as he caught his breath.
“Good girl,” he said, stroking my cheek as he pulled out of my mouth. “You’ve earned your freedom.”
He helped me to my feet, his hands steady and sure. I looked up at him, feeling a mix of emotions—shame, excitement, gratitude.
“Remember, Jessie,” he said, his voice serious now. “This doesn’t change what you did. But I’m willing to give you a second chance. Don’t waste it.”
I nodded, my throat too tight to speak. I gathered my things, my heart still pounding in my chest.
As I left the store, I felt a sense of relief wash over me. I had made it out, my secret still safe. But I couldn’t shake the feeling of what had just happened, the memory of his cock inside me, the taste of his cum on my tongue.
My phone buzzed it was a text from my boyfriend saying, ‘where are you we was supposed to meet, what have you been doing.’
I text back and put, “Just running some errands, be there soon,” I replied, my pulse still racing from the encounter. I couldn’t tell him what had really happened, the thought too shameful to put into words.
He text back, “can’t wait to have sex later,” I sent a message back, “not today I feel abit sore if thats ok.”
He started to act paranoid as he text me back, “Sore from what? Did something happen? Did you do something you’re not telling me?”
I text him back, “What the fuck you getting at, I’m just tired from the day, that’s all. Let’s just drop it and move on, okay? I don’t need this shit from fucking you.” I replied, trying to keep my tone light and dismissive. I couldn’t bear the thought of him finding out what had really happened.
He text, “Really, doesn’t explain how your pussy his sore.”
I didn’t respond to his last message, feeling a wave of guilt wash over me. I knew I couldn’t keep this secret from him forever, but for now, I just wanted to push it aside and pretend it never happened.
He sent another text, “slag.”
I ignored his last message and put my phone away, with tears in my eyes.
I eventaully got home, I headed straight for the shower, I Continue story first person as Jessie:
The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead as I moved, my heart pounding so loudly I was sure everyone could hear it. I tried to look casual, picking up a bottle of shampoo here and a packet of biscuits there, slipping them into my bag when no one was looking. I told myself it was just this once—just to get by.
I headed towards the door, my bag heavier now, my steps quicker. I was almost there, almost free. But then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw him—a big, black guard standing by the exit, his presence filling the space like a wall.
“Excuse me, miss,” he said, his voice deep and firm. I froze, my breath catching in my throat. His radio crackled to life, and I could hear the chatter from the other end. For a moment, I thought about running. But his eyes held mine, and I knew it was no use.
He reached for his radio, his gaze never leaving me. “I’ve got this,” he said into the radio, a hint of a smile on his lips. “I can handle this.”
He gestured for me to follow him, and my feet moved as if alone. My mind raced, a jumble of fear and regret. We walked through the store, past curious shoppers, to a door marked “Employees Only.” He opened it and ushered me inside.
The back office was small and cluttered, with a desk piled high with papers and a row of security monitors blinking in the corner. The guard closed the door behind us, the click of the lock sounding ominous in the quiet room.
“Empty your bag,” he said, his voice softer now but still commanding. My hands shook as I fumbled with the zipper, pulling out the stolen items one by one—shampoo, biscuits, and a few other things I couldn’t even remember grabbing.
He watched me, his expression unreadable. I felt a wave of shame crash over me, hot and suffocating. What had I been thinking? Why had I done this?
“Why?” he asked, his tone not unkind, just curious. I looked up at him, tears stinging my eyes.
“I… I didn’t have a choice,” I whispered, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. “I needed this stuff and didn’t have any money.”
He sighed, running a hand over his head. “Jessie, right?” he said, glancing at the ID I had to show earlier. I nodded, surprised he remembered.
“Look, Jessie,” he said, leaning against the desk. “I get it. Times are tough. But this isn’t the way to handle it. Do you understand?”
I nodded again, my throat tight. I felt small and foolish, like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar.
“Alright,” he said, straightening up. “Time to search you,” he added under his breath while he licked his lips. His words surprised me, cutting through my shame and embarrassment like a knife. My face flushed with heat, a mix of anger and mortification bubbling up within me. But as he started patting me down, his movements organized and professional, I calmed down, my breath returning to a steady rhythm.
He searched my pockets and the waistband of my pants, not finding anything else. Then, his hands moved down my thighs, pressing against my legs, then my knees, then… my hips. Then while he stood behind me, he squeezed both my tits, “got to make sure you know.”
“Lift up your shirt,” he instructed, and I followed his command without hesitation, pulling up the hem of my sweater to reveal my plain white underwear. I could feel his gaze on me, heavy and probing. I wondered if he could see the telltale signs of my arousal, my nipples pebbled into hard points under the thin cotton.
His hands moved to my waist, and I felt a shiver of anticipation run down my spine. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of my underwear, and I held my breath as he slowly began to pull them down.
I stepped out of them, my heart pounding in my chest. I could feel the heat of his gaze on me, and I felt a surge of vulnerability and arousal. I had never been so exposed in front of a stranger before, and yet, there was something thrilling about it.
He stepped closer to me, his body looming over mine. I could feel the heat of his breath on my neck, and I closed my eyes, my senses overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment.
“Should I let you go with no police involved, tell me, or should I make you pay for what you’ve done?” he whispered in my ear, his voice low and dangerous.
“By the look of your petite frame, my black cock would destroy you, I think you need to pay for your crimes little slut,” he said as he undid his belt.
He bent me over the desk, I looked back over my shoulder, catching a glimpse of his thick, hard length. I started to panick as I saw the size of his dick. OMG, it was fucking huge, thick and pulsating and very big.
He nudged my legs apart, and I spread them willingly, eager for what was to come. He rubbed the head of his cock against my white tight pussy, and I moaned, the sensation sending waves of pleasure through my body.
“Are you ready to pay for your crimes, little slut?” he asked, his voice rough with desire. I nodded, my throat too tight to speak.
“I-I don’t think that will fit inside me, I…” I was cut off as he stuff it inside my cunt.
I gasped as he filled me, my pussy stretching to accommodate his girth. He began to move, his thrusts slow and measured at first, then building in intensity. I cried out, my hands gripping the edge of the desk as he took me roughly from behind.
“Ah yes, you feel a lot tighter than my wife, you little whore,” he growled, his voice a low rumble against my ear. His hands moved to my hips, gripping them tight as he thrust deeper inside me.
With each stroke, he touched a place inside me I didn’t know existed, igniting a fire that spread through my body. I could feel every inch of him, the textured skin of his shaft, the veins pulsing with his desire, the heavy weight of him as he pressed me into the desk.
I closed my eyes, surrendering to the sensations that overwhelmed me. I had never felt this way before, so owned, so possessed. It was terrifying, but also exhilarating.
“This is what you get, little slut,” he said, as he slammed his cock in and out me as his finger entered my asshole.
As he took me roughly from behind, every inch of him filling and stretching me, his thick cock hitting that pleasurable spot deep within me, I could hardly breathe. The pleasure washed over me in waves so intense that I could only gasp and moan.
“Have you ever taken a big black cock before, ahh your pussy feels good, you are so fucking tight, I’m going to fill you with my cum,” he groaned, his fingers digging into my hips as he fucked me with a primal intensity that left me dizzy and disoriented.
“Fucking answer me, have you ever taken a big black cock before,” he said very demanding.
“No,” I managed to gasp, my voice barely audible. “You’re my first.”
He stilled for a moment, his cock buried deep inside me. “Really?” he asked, a hint of disbelief in his voice. I nodded, feeling a rush of vulnerability and shame.
He pulled out of me, “time to make a gaping hole,” he laughed, as he pressed the head of his cock against my super tight asshole.
As he pressed against my tight hole, I tensed up, fear and anticipation coursing through me. I had never taken a cock there before, and the thought of it was both terrifying and thrilling.
“Relax, Jessie,” he said, his voice softer now. “I won’t hurt you.”
He rubbed the head of his cock against my asshole, coating it with my wetness. I took a deep breath, trying to relax my muscles as he pushed inside me.
At first, it was uncomfortable, a burning sensation that made me want to cry out. But then, as he slowly moved deeper inside me, the pain began to fade, replaced by a feeling of fullness and pressure that was unlike anything I had ever experienced.
He began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate at first, then building in intensity. I could feel every inch of him, the textured skin of his shaft, the veins pulsing with his desire, the heavy weight of him as he pressed me into the desk.
The pleasure was intense, building with each stroke until I felt like I was on the brink of an explosion. I could feel my orgasm building, a wave of pleasure that threatened to consume me.
“You ready to suck this big cock, if you swallow I will let you keep the things you stole,” he said pulling his cock out my ass. He brought me to my knees.
I looked up at him, my eyes wide with shock and desire. I had never done anything like this before, but there was something about him that made me want to submit.
I opened my mouth, my tongue darting out to taste him. He tasted salty and musky, a heady mix of sweat and desire. I closed my lips around him, my mouth stretching to accommodate his girth.
He groaned as I began to suck him, his hands gripping my hair as he guided my movements. I closed my eyes, focusing on the sensation of him filling my mouth, the feel of his cock sliding against my tongue.
I could feel his pleasure building, his thrusts becoming more urgent as he approached his climax. I moaned around him, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through his body.
“Fuck, you’re good at this,” he growled, his fingers tightening in my hair. “You’re going to make me cum, little slut.”
I felt a surge of pride at his words, a thrill at the thought of bringing him to orgasm. I sucked harder, my tongue swirling around him as I took him deeper into my mouth.
With a final, powerful thrust, he came, his hot, salty cum filling my mouth. I swallowed, my throat working as I took him down. He groaned, his hands relaxing in my hair as he caught his breath.
“Good girl,” he said, stroking my cheek as he pulled out of my mouth. “You’ve earned your freedom.”
He helped me to my feet, his hands steady and sure. I looked up at him, feeling a mix of emotions—shame, excitement, gratitude.
“Remember, Jessie,” he said, his voice serious now. “This doesn’t change what you did. But I’m willing to give you a second chance. Don’t waste it.”
I nodded, my throat too tight to speak. I gathered my things, my heart still pounding in my chest.
As I left the store, I felt a sense of relief wash over me. I had made it out, my secret still safe. But I couldn’t shake the feeling of what had just happened, the memory of his cock inside me, the taste of his cum on my tongue.
My phone buzzed it was a text from my boyfriend saying, ‘where are you we was supposed to meet, what have you been doing.’
I text back and put, “Just running some errands, be there soon,” I replied, my pulse still racing from the encounter. I couldn’t tell him what had really happened, the thought too shameful to put into words.
He text back, “can’t wait to have sex later,” I sent a message back, “not today I feel abit sore if thats ok.”
He started to act paranoid as he text me back, “Sore from what? Did something happen? Did you do something you’re not telling me?”
I text him back, “What the fuck you getting at, I’m just tired from the day, that’s all. Let’s just drop it and move on, okay? I don’t need this shit from fucking you.” I replied, trying to keep my tone light and dismissive. I couldn’t bear the thought of him finding out what had really happened.
He text, “Really, doesn’t explain how your pussy his sore.”
I didn’t respond to his last message, feeling a wave of guilt wash over me. I knew I couldn’t keep this secret from him forever, but for now, I just wanted to push it aside and pretend it never happened.
He sent another text, “slag.”
I ignored his last message and put my phone away, with tears in my eyes.
I eventaully got home, I headed straight for the shower, I stood under the warm stream of water, feeling it wash away the remnants of the guard’s touch on my skin. I closed my eyes, letting the water cascade down my body, soothing the aches and pains that lingered from our encounter.
I tried to wash my pussy it stung, I reached down, wincing as I touched the tender flesh between my legs. I could feel the lingering ache of his cock, the burn of his fingers. I sighed, leaning against the tile wall as I let the water wash over me.
This was my story of my shoplifting encounter, I hope you enjoyed this true story.
By Jessie Reynolds.