Grocery Store Grave Shift – Part III

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December 18th 2:18 a.m.“How much longer?” Simon asked.Hector looked at his watch. “T-minus six minutes.”Tracking our thirty-minute lunch break was an extreme sport.Mary joined us, her recent nap still clinging to her posture. “Six minutes? I still haven’t eaten.”“Hey, that reminds me,” Oscar piped up, “our mamá says you’re all invited to dinner this weekend.”“Mmm, I love Rosa’s chili verde,” Mary gushed with fatigued enthusiasm.“The lime roasted turkey she cooked on Thanksgiving was amazing,” I chimed in, hungry just thinking about it.I’d had the pleasure of meeting the twins’ mom a few weeks prior when they convinced me to join them for the holiday. I was an easy sell; I liked them and I didn’t have anywhere else to be. The group invited me for their bi-weekly dinners every other Saturday since, the twin’s tiny home filled to the brim with family and friends, always a chaotic, cozy affair with a plate of hot food on your lap and a cold drink your hand.“I’ll tell her that,” Oscar said. “It’ll make her smile.””Yeah and then she’ll cook enough for an army and make us bring it to you,” his brother added. Our laughter was interrupted by Harrison’s unmistakable footsteps, as if one could hear the predetermined disapproval in his direct stride.“Well. Here you all are. Are we taking impromptu breaks now?”The jovial atmosphere wilted around him.“It’s lunchtime, Harrison,” Simon replied in his calm baritone.“Oh.” Some of Harrison’s tension dissipated. “Well. Good.”The following silence was like a derailed train we all wanted off of, but Harrison was blocking the exit.Simon pressed, “Something else?”“… No. That’ll be all.” His abrasive dismissal was obnoxiously on cue. My coworker’s exchange of disgust left them oblivious when our boss proceeded to glance at me over his shoulder, delivering a look that expected I follow.Simon wasn’t oblivious: When I noticed his attention, I stared back, our friends dispersing around us.He knew.When he cocked one eyebrow, I choked up worse than an asphyxiated slut, physically unable to speak–not that it mattered. Words evaded me completely. Simon took his eyes off of me, stood a moment, then left. I watched him go, my appetite to live going with him. I didn’t move for a very long moment. When I eventually did, I felt like I was underwater, trudging toward Harrison’s office… Not bothering to knock, I slipped ısparta escort inside. My body was shoved against the door to close it.”You’re a bitch, you know that?” Harrison demanded.”Believe it or not, I do.”He growled at my answer, forcing his hands up my shirt to paw at my breasts. “So you blew me off on Thanksgiving to go with them?”Shit.”It wasn’t like that.””Liar.””Jealousy doesn’t become you, Harrison.”Enclosing a fist around my unkempt up-do, Harrison guided my knees to the floor and my mouth to his dick. Its familiar size and texture slid over my tongue, average enough I could fit it all in my esophagus without breaking a sweat; an act Harrison was greedy to witness.”See how jealous Simon will be with my cock down your throat,” he gloated.I kept my eyes on him like a good slut, but didn’t bother to keep the irritation out of them. He didn’t notice, fucking away at my face like an overeager schoolboy. He believed me indifferent to Simon, a notion surely derived from wearing rose-colored glasses. Correcting him, however, would not have served my best interest. I’d been gaining traction in my manipulation of Harrison: Simon wasn’t privy to my involvement in Mary’s extra day off the previous week, or the twins’ vacation approval two weeks before that.Harrison liked me and I was using it to benefit my new friends. My only friends.While Harrison released his frustrations on me, I slid a hand down my pants and between my legs, rubbing my damp panties. As much as I hated my boss, I liked the way he used me.“God damn, you love that, don’t you?” he accused. I hummed around him, causing him to pause at the end of a deep stroke.“Fuuuck yes,” Harrison groaned. I hated that I enjoyed it so much; the pressure of his tip against my uvula, the sound of his approval.“Shit, you’re so dirty, you’re gonna make me come.”He always said some variation of this when on the verge–a feat that was anything but, usually culminating in four minutes or less.Wrapping my fingers around his base, I began to stroke as I sucked. My motion was rhythmic; wrist twisting, tongue rolling. His breath grew short, his thrusts slowing, reluctant to my intensity on his sensitivity.“Geezus,” he choked.During the silence that followed his sharp inhale, Simon crossed my mind.When Harrison moaned, the pressure of his hakkari escort orgasm releasing directly down my throat, I came as well, though not with him. December 18th 7:27 a.m. -I waited in the women’s restroom, hoping to postpone my exit long enough that Mary and the twins would be gone. And Simon, too… Nearly thirty minutes after shift-end, I snuck my way to the back of the store with the intention to head straight home. Carefully shutting the side door and turning for the parking lot, I was startled when I found Simon waiting on my other side. He was without an ounce of his usual diplomacy, arms crossed, brow unemotional.“Avoiding me?”Hand over my thrumming heart, I took him in. If unamused had a face… “No.”“Oh, that’s a relief.” His dry sarcasm bluntly challenged my obvious lie. I swallowed. He softened. “Come on.”“But-”“I want you to come with me, Ada,” he interrupted. “Do you want to?” This was the angriest I’d ever seen him, though he seemed more disappointed than anything.My answer was a nod. Simon led me through the frosted lot, put me in his car, and drove me to his house. Neither of us spoke the entire ride. I was silent as I’d ever been, following his tense stature to the front door where he ushered me to enter. The heavy curtains were drawn, his territory perpetual night.The moment the door was shut, Simon pinned me to the wall, claiming my mouth with his. My shock was evident: I didn’t know we’d be speaking my language for this conversation. I wasn’t sure why he brought me here at all, curious why he didn’t shout at me about fucking our enormous asshole of a boss behind his back before leaving me at the store. You know, like a normal person.Far from pushing me away, Simon took me, kissing me hard enough to bruise my lips. I gushed. We fucked, yet infrequently; the result of mutual concessions upon realizing our opposing views on how frequently to have sex while getting to know each other. If I had my way, he’d be mine every night, and we’d never talk at all.The prickle of his beard on my face teased, his hot breath in my mouth. My guard was high, still wondering his intention, but my desire was quickly rising higher. It wouldn’t have been the first time I ditched dignity for gratification… Simon maneuvered his way between my labyrinth of layered winter clothes, bingöl escort slid his coarse palm over my abdomen and down my pants, his contact with my clit bringing me to life.”Yes!” I screamed.Despite my reaction, Simon proceeded slowly, rolling my already wet pearl between his fingers. I clawed at his coat, vocalized my approval as he took care to rub and gently tug my inner labia.”Simon,” I gasped when he teasingly flicked my clit. “Please, more!” Taking his forearm, I forced his hand further to appease the ache in my center, his pace much too slow for my liking.”Fuck,” he grunted, pushing inside. His touch was vinegar on an alkaline burn, the relief as intense as the need.”Yesss, please don’t stop.” I used my best persuasive voice as I ground myself onto his hand. The way he responded emulated our relationship thus far; long and leisure and full of sexual tension. I didn’t hide my impatience.Simon leveled his eyes with mine.”Ada?””Yes?””Why do you need it rough all the time?”My breath stopped for a moment. His fingers inside me continued casually as he patiently awaited my reply.”… What do you mean?””Every time we fool around, you’re restless,” Simon pointed out. When it was obvious I was stumped, he leaned into me and husked; “You always ask for my cock deep and hard. You’re always on your knees for me, always needing me to just ruin you.”I moaned, his attention on my g-spot pairing nicely with his words.“Why do you like to be treated like a slut, Ada?” His words were an aphrodisiac, I didn’t even hear the question. “Is it the same reason you’re hooking up with Harrison?”I heard that question.My lungs seized up once more as Simon absorbed all my guilt and fear. He continued to finger me.”If going slow is so important to you, why’d you let me suck your cock the first time we were alone?” I changed the subject entirely, to a question that would satisfy my own curiosity.The memory flickered in his gaze. “Find me someone who can resist the sight of you on your knees, I dare you.” Sarcasm lite. “Of course I wanted you, Ada.”“If you wanted me, you’d take me,” I challenged, referring to his constant restraint with me.“I want to get to know you.”“What if I’d rather you just fuck me?” I argued.“And what if I want to make love to you?” he snapped back.I didn’t have a quip for that one.”What would you do? If I wanted to be intimate with you? Really intimate? You communicate through sex, that’s abundantly clear,” Simon stated, my flaws under his microscope pronounced so practically. “Yet every time we fuck, you’re still holding back. I have no problem treating you like a slut, love. I do have a problem when that’s the only way you’ll allow me to treat you.”

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