Emin catches her when he is unpacking a box of canned corn. She is standing by the personal hygiene shelf looking at shampoo or perhaps hair balm. She has long, black hair with lighter highlights. She appears to be a few years over twenty. Looking at the silhouette of her face he finds her attractive, but when his eyes drop to her breasts the tight top reveals she doesn’t have much there. He decides she is uninteresting, and reaches for another pair of cans when she furtively slips a shampoo bottle into her bag.
He stops dead in his track, one second, two, then he regains his mobility and hides behind a shelf. He is unsure what to do, and just as he decides to drop the whole issue, Peter, another clerk at the store, comes walking towards him. Emin motions for him to be silent.
“What?” Peter says.
“I just caught this chick stealing.”
“Where?”
Emin points. He is about to step past the corner but Peter holds him back. “Don’t let her see you. We’ve got nothing on her, if she’s still in the store.”
“I was just thinking I’d confront her here and ask her to put the stuff back.”
“No fucking way,” Peter says once he’s peeked around the corner. “The chink bitch’s gonna pay.”
“Hey…”
“Shut it! She’s gonna hear you.”
“Don’t call her a chink.”
“Okay, whatever … Listen, you’re going up to the entrance … you’re gonna catch her if she tries to bail.”
“Catch her?” Emin says, worry in his voice now. “We’re not supposed to…”
“The hell we are, she’s stealing from us.”
“Well, not really…”
“Yeah? Of course she is … in the long run … Never mind. Listen you’ll sweep the pavement outside the doors.”
Emin frowns. “That’s supposed to be your…”
“Just do it … if she bails you can grab her ass when you catch her or something…”
“You’re an asshole.”
“Yeah, yeah … Now get lost.”
Emin hurries to the back of the store, picking up a broom, on his way to the main entrance. He speaks to Angelika, telling her something might be up with one of the customers. Then he starts sweeping the pavement outside the store.
At the same time Peter is watching the girl. She strolls through the store as if nothing is up. At one point she walks past him, giving him a warm, even sexy, smile. Shit, Peter thinks, realizing that if Emin hadn’t caught her red-handed he would never have guessed she was a thief.
The thought of catching her makes his body tingle and his breathing speed up. He takes a deep breath.
She doesn’t shop for long and soon she approaches Angelika by the cash-register. She pays for a bottle of spray deodorant, but as far as Peter can see no shampoo bottle. Emin has stopped sweeping. Angelika hands over the change and receipt to the girl who puts the deodorant into a plastic bag.
Peter hesitates for a moment. What if she hasn’t been stealing anything? Then his determination returns. This little bitch is not gonna steal from them!
“Excuse me Miss,” he says, grabbing her by the arm. Emin has entered the store now, prepared to catch her if she tries to bolt. The way he’s grabbing the broom Peter fears he might hit her with it should she try to escape.
“Yes?” the woman says, her voice cool and collected.
“Could you come with me?”
“Why?” A tint of worry appears in her tone.
“Because. I think you want to take this conversation in the office.”
She looks at him. Her dark eyes widening, and he can feel a predatory chill along his spine. She knows she’s caught.
“Okay,” she says, her eyes lowering.
He pulls her along, Emin trailing behind, the broom still in a firm grip. They enter the back store room. Peter pulls out a shopping basket and nods at the girl. “Empty your purse in the basket.”
She shakes her head. “No fucking way!”
Peter grabs her harder, pulling the bag away from her. “I saw you steal. You took shampoo and didn’t pay for it. Now, if your bag doesn’t contain shampoo, we’re okay, otherwise you’re in deep, deep shit.” He reaches into her bag and produces a bottle of shampoo and a bottle of hair balm.
“I’m sorry,” she says, her voice trembling. “Take it back. I didn’t…”
“Take it back?” Peter says, his voice full of scorn. “It’s our bottles.”
“I’m sorry,” she says again, “I am so sorry!”
“I’m calling the cops,” Peter says. “Emin, put down the broom and keep an eye on her.”
Emin places the broom against he wall and stands between the girl and the entrance to the store. She looks at him, her eyes wide with fear. “Please?” she says, “I didn’t mean to take them.”
Peter laughs. “What are you trying to say? They fell into your bag by mistake?”
She licks her lips. “Maybe?”
“Fucking bitch,” Peter says, turning her bag upside down into the basket. “Let’s see what else fell into your bag, shall we?”
Out pours a lipstick, a keyring, two hair pins, a box of lip balm, a purse, a pack of chewing gum, a pen and a small note book, a pack of cigarettes, two lighters, one green, one red, both Bic’s, a number of small coins, and a pocket rocket.
The white oblong object lands in the middle of the pile, everybody’s eyes glued to it. The girl sees her chance, and just as Peter is about to speak, she takes a leap towards the doors, running for dear life. Peter is too far away, but Emin manages to lash out, and grab one of her arms before she is out of reach.
She cries in fear as he pulls her back. He grabs both her arms and pushes her into the wall, back first. “What the fuck are you doing? Huh? You fucking stole from us and now you’re trying to run away? What the fuck!?”
She blinks and twitches every time he speaks, still trying to force a smile onto her lips. When Emin finally realizes that he has been shouting at her, and that he is pushing her into the wall, grabbing her hard, and that she is very close to him, virtually pressed against his body, he backs away from her, but no further than he can still block her escape.
“We’re calling the police,” Peter says, “there’s nothing you can do about it.”
She pushes a strand of hair out of her face and smiles at him, a fearful, shivering attempt at flirtation. “I can do nothing at all?”
He stops. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
She smiles wider, a really seductive smile. Then she glances at the pocket rocket. “You like my toy?”
He glances at the vibrator again. Emin fights really hard not to. Peter shrugs. “Perhaps. Not that it’s something I’ve never seen before.”
“Your girlfriend did with it?”
“Not really,” he says.
“I can do with it,” she says, her smile full blown seductive now. “Want to see me play with it? Yes? And the shampoo fell into my bag, right?”
Peter picks up her notebook. She freezes for a second before the smile returns, somewhat strained. He opens the book, flipping through the pages until he reaches the first page. “Kirsana?” he says. She nods reluctantly. “You’d do that to get off the hook?”
She licks her lips. “I’d do.”
He chuckles and throws the notebook back into the basket. “That’s a really lame offer. We’re threatening to call the cops on you. You broke the law. You know what that means?”
“Yes,” she says, her voice small, void of all seductiveness.
“I hope so,” Peter says, “cause I want you to know what you’re trying to buy here.”
“Dude,” Emin says, “come on…”
“Shut it,” Peter says, “we’re not calling the cops on this lady before she’s had a chance to make her case, do we?”
Emin sighs. “I didn’t mean…”
“Sure,” Peter says, pushing Emin aside as he approaches Kirsana. “You want to buy your way out of this mess?”
“Yes.”
“It’s gonna cost you…”
“I see…”
“A blow job for me and my friend.”
She gasps. Emin moans but Peter silences both of them. “That or the cops.”
“Oh God,” she says, “please?”
“No! You stole! You’re a filthy thief, and you’re getting what’s coming to you. Either this or the cops.” He picks up the phone handset.
“I’m not doing it!”
Peter smiles. “You’re getting kicked out, you know. They have zero tolerance for thieves. They’re gonna deport you back to China or wherever the hell you came from.”
“Thailand. They’ll put me in jail. Please help me! I can’t go back!”
Peter grins even wider. “I’ve heard they even execute people in Thailand…”
“Yes … Execute.”
“See,” he says, “we have a common interest here. Me and my pal wanna get off…” he silences Emin with a gesture, “and you … too wanna get off.” He laughs at the pun. “Let’s get off together.”
“But no swallow, right?”
“Oh no,” Peter says, “you’re doing it just like we want it or you’re going to jail.”
“Okay,” she says, “who first?”
Emin gasps when he realizes she is going to give him a blowjob. He looks at her thick lips and feels himself starting to get hard.
“One thing at a time,” Peter says and lifts the handset to the intercom. He calls Angelika and tells her they are going to meet the police out back. “They said they’d be here in ten perhaps fifteen minutes,” he says. They hang up and he turns to Kirsana with a broad grin.
“Now it’s time for licky-licky…”
He laughs again at his own joke and pulls Kirsana with him. They stop in a secluded corner of the store room. Kirsana, quite deflated, Emin hesitant, and Peter obviously horny.
“You go first man,” Peter says pushing Kirsana into Emin’s arms.
“I’m not sure…” Emin says.
“Want me to turn my back?”
“This is … kinda illegal…”
“So? Wanna call the cops on her? Have her deported?”
Kirsana shakes her head. “No worry,” she says, smiling and kneeling in front of him. “I’ll do good.”
“See,” Peter says. “She knows her priorities.”
“Dude,” Emin says, but he silences when Kirsana starts undoing his fly.
She looks up at him, with dark, shimmering eyes. She pulls his already half hard cock out of his underwear and takes him into her mouth.
“Hey, dude!” Emin says, when Peter leans closer to see better, “do you mind?”
“Sure,” Peter says and turns his back at them.
Emin combs his fingers through Kirsana’s hair, letting the silky strands caress his palms. “My God,” he says.
She sucks him harder, caressing his thighs and squeezing his balls. He flinches, fearful she will try to hurt him, and pulls away. “Perhaps this isn’t such a good idea?” Kirsana grabs his shaft jacking him fast and hard, the tip of his organ sucked into her mouth, her tongue fluttering over it.
“Oh shit!” he hisses, grabbing a pile of pallets behind him to keep on his feet as his knees threatens to buckle.
She continues jacking him with furious speed, her tongue caressing, mouth open, as if waiting for his load.
“Oh God!” he says, his hips bucking.
Peter turns around. He takes in the whole scene, a lewd grin on his lips. He takes special care to check out Kirsana’s butt. He licks his lips and grabs his crotch, adjusting himself, even though he squeezes his shaft a few times as well.
Emin is on the verge of orgasm when Kirsana takes him into her mouth and down her throat all the way until her lips are pressed against his pubic hairs.
He cries coarsely. Peter hushes him. Even though he is almost oblivious to anything but the electric jolts of pleasure burning through him he manages to keep his voice down, even when Kirsana starts moaning around his cock, making her throat vibrate in a way that has him twitching and coming in moments. She contracts around his shaft as he starts shooting jets of semen straight down her throat, and only after several seconds of blissful ecstasy does he realize she is trying to pull away from him.
He lets go of the back of her neck and she falls to the floor, retching and sobbing. He sinks down in the floor next to her with a prolonged groan. When he reaches out to pat her head she pulls away from him with a low whine.
“Man,” Peter says, “you made her gag on it. Way to go!” He is sitting on a pallet of sugar on the other side of the store room. He waves Kirsana over. His trousers already pulled down and his cock standing, like a foreign mushroom growing in his lap.
Kirsana stares at the organ, she then notices the doors to the wharf. Before either Emin or Peter can react she bolts for them. Peter curses and tries to pull his pants back up while running after her. She reaches the door way ahead of him, but when she tries to turn the lock nothing happens. Peter stops and chuckles.
“You need the code to get out,” he says, “I forgot that.”
Kirsana turns to him, her back against the black, cold metal door. “Please,” she says. ” … it was a mistake.”
“Yeah, yeah … I’m tired of your mistakes.”
“I’m sorry…”
“You’re a fucking stupid bitch!”
” … please, I will do for you too…”
“You’re sure gonna do me, babe,” Peter says, grabbing her, turning her around, and pushing her face first into the door. He reaches for her fly, and as he lets go of his trousers they fall to the floor, pooling around his feet.
“No!” she says and tries to squirm out of his grip.
“Shut the fuck up!”
She whines and bucks into him, almost sending him down on his ass.
“Fuck!” he says and grabs her by the neck, bending her head backwards. “Don’t you fucking try to be funny with me! You bailed on me, I raised the price, deal with it!”
“Don’t hurt me!”
“Shut the fuck up and I’ll be nice … okay?”
“Okay…”
“Good,” he says, taking her hands and placing them against the door. “You’re under arrest babe.” He chuckles. He slides his hands over her body until he reaches her crotch where he squeezes for a moment. Then he caresses under her top and cups her breasts. They are quite small but firm. He pushes the top over her head, leaving it hanging on her arms, then he strokes her naked back.
The touch of her smooth mocha tanned skin makes his palms tingle. He knows he has to have more and unbuttons his own shirt. It is a typical supermarket clerk shirt, four buttons in the neck, white and blue checkered, his name-tag pinned to the left side of the chest. He pulls it over his head and drops it on a pallet of toilet paper.
He reaches for her fly. She tries to squirm but he grabs her neck again, turning her head until she looks at him, and while their eyes meet, he manages to open her fly. Her underwear is made of cotton, and this time, when he squeezes her, he can feel her wiry pubic hairs.
“Fuck,” he hisses and shoves her trousers and panties down along her legs, then doing the same with his own briefs as well. He grabs her and pulls her to him, her skin sending thrills of pleasure through him as it touches his.
“Oh fuck,” he says, grinding the underside of his cock into the cleavage of her ass. “I’m gonna fuck your ass!”
“Please!” she says, shying away from him.
He pulls her back. “You want me to fuck your ass?”
“Please no!”
“Want me to fuck your pussy?”
“No! Please, I can suck you!”
“No pussy or ass? Choose one!”
“Mouth!”
“Fuck it!”
He grabs her crotch, trying to push a finger into her but she is too dry. He removes the hand, rolls his tongue in his mouth and bites it until he has enough saliva to spit a large gob into his palm and reach back between her legs. He smears it over her hairs and folds making her slick and smooth. The sensation in itself almost makes him loose his control.
“Get down,” he says, pushing her down on her knees. “Come here,” he says, pulling her by her hair until she is facing his crotch.
“Good,” she says, “I suck cock.”
She grabs him like she did Emin but before she can start jacking him off he stops her. “Lick it, take it fucking deep … I wanna see you drool bitch!”
She licks him and sucks him and soon enough the saliva starts flooding. He grabs her by the hair, pulling her to him until she’s taken him to the root. She looks up at him, moaning.
He chuckles. “Trying to make me shoot, huh?”
Tears starts rolling from her eyes and she bucks, groaning and pulling away from him. He holds her to him until she starts making throaty sounds, then he lets go. She stands on hands and feet on the filthy floor, retching, moaning and coughing. He looks at the perfect globes of her naked ass, and before she understands what is happening he kneels between her legs, grabbing her from behind. She can feel him, wet and slippery, against her butt and she tries to squirm away, but he simply forces her down on her belly, landing on top of her, forcing her thighs apart, his cock already poking at her pussy.
“Oh God! No!”
She tries to look at him but he grabs her hair, forcing her head down on the floor. He takes his cock in his free hand, poking its head into her folds, her hairs tickling him in an unbearable way.
He pushes. She whines and bucks, but he tightens the grip on her hair, the pain keeping her from moving again, and this time when he pushes he sinks into her halfway.
She is almost too dry but as he forces himself into her, juices starts flowing regardless of her will. She is far from the wettest girl he has ever had sex with, in fact the firm stroke is almost more stimulating than the wet caress of a soaked pussy.
He shoves into her again. They both cry this time. By now Emin has collected himself and peeks out from his secluded corner. “Keep it down guys,” he says.
Peter is leaning over Kirsana now, more than a head taller than her he is able to lock his eyes into hers. The foreboding shimmer in his pale blue, icy cold glance keeps her paralyzed while he fills her over and over.
“Payback’s a bitch, huh?”
She doesn’t reply.
“I’m gonna give you some fucky-fucky,” he says. “Want some fucky-fucky?”
She groans.
“Say it!”
“Yes!”
“You want fucky-fucky?”
“Yes!”
“Yeah, I’m gonna give you some fucky-fucky!”
“Oh!”
“Bitch!”
“Yes!”
“Whore!”
“Fuck me!”
Peter twitches. Her spontaneous encouragement for him to fuck her making his pleasure go haywire. He hisses.
Kirsana sees a possibility to end the pain, and she takes it. “Fuck me hard! Fucky-fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!”
Her sudden aggressiveness combined with the firm stroke of her dry pussy makes him think she wants him to fuck her, it almost feels as if she is squeezing him, and he loses control. He brawls as his pleasure mounts. He ruts into her and as the first jets of semen fills her and lubricates her, his pleasure reaches a new height as he is totally convinced the woman beneath him is coming just as he is.
The pleasure draws out, then, just as he thinks it is over, a new wave crests on him and he thrusts into her a few more times, before he collapses on top of her. He weighs on her for several minutes, his shriveling cock comfortably nested in her damp sheath, but as time goes he starts getting cold, and he finally pulls out of her. She makes a sniveling sound and rolls away from him.
Emin is fully dressed, and he is looking at them. Peter, a bit self-conscious now that he has been satisfied, quickly pulls his trousers back on, buttoning the fly and fastening the belt. He picks up his shirt and while buttoning it he looks down at Kirsana, still lying on the floor, rolled into a ball.
He can see that Emin wants to say something but he decides to take control of the situation before he does. “You’re free to go,” he says to Kirsana. “Heck, take the shampoo as well.”
“Angelika has her break coming up,” Emin says, nodding at Kirsana, “she has to leave.”
Peter squats by Kirsana’s head. “Listen,” he says, “you’re free to go now.”
She suddenly scrambles to her feet, pulling her clothes on in a hurry and before Peter can help her she tries to open the door again.
“Let me out,” she cries, banging her small fists into the black steel.
“Hold it,” Peter says and punches in the code on the keypad. The door buzzes and when Kirsana pushes the handle it swings open. She takes a step towards freedom when Peter grabs her arm.
“Hold it,” he says.
She swings around, eyes wide with fear, mouth open in a wordless cry for mercy.
“Your bag, and your shampoo,” Peter says, lets go of her arm and walks over to Emin who has placed her things back in the bag and is carrying it towards him.
Kirsana is jumping with impatience, and when Peter returns with the bag he can’t keep from pulling her strings once more. “Why in such a hurry?” he says, keeping her bag out of reach. “Perhaps we should go for another round? I’m starting to get horny again … you know you were such a good fuck…”
Kirsana gasps in despair.
“Dude!” Emin says.
Before Peter can continue his banter Kirsana snatches the purse out of his hands and runs. He chuckles as he closes the door. “I’d say her shampoo was more than paid for.”
“You’re an asshole!”