Making the Sale

First published in Puritan Magazine, #44

Bob knelt at the redhead’s feet, slipping a thin black
stiletto onto a graceful foot. He held the foot tightly in his sweaty
hands, wishing he could just pull her down onto the floor, to slide
her leather skirt up her hips so he could bury his thick cock in her
steaming cunt. He could tell the slut wanted it, considering the way
she was dressed and the looks she’d been giving him since she walked
into the store. But fucking the customers was generally a bad idea.
Bob settled for what he could easily get, and bent his head between
her long legs. He breathed in deeply, inhaling her intoxicating musk.
Then, with a final squeeze, he reluctantly released her foot, sitting
back on his heels. As he moved back, she leaned forward, so that her
auburn mane brushed against his face, and her rounded breasts almost
spilled out of the tight white lace tank. Bob could have easily
grabbed her hair and dragged her down to sprawl on the floor beside
him. She licked her lips and smiled at him, as if she wanted him to
ream out her undoubtedly well-used cunt. But he wasn’t about to get
fired over a girl, no matter how gorgeous she was.

She stood and walked around the floor of the salesroom, and
Bob watched the long muscles flex in her calves and thighs, his eyes
tracing a path from the tiny heels all the way up stocking-clad legs
to the tiny black mini wrapped around her hips. Bob hadn’t dared to
sneak a peek while he knelt at her feet, but he certainly wondered
whether the patterned black lace ended in garters just above the edge
of the leather skirt. Bob was sure she was the sort who wouldn’t wear
panties, and he knew she would look damn good on her back on the
floor, with those impossibly long legs spread wide and her naked cunt
wet and dripping for him. He stared at her hungrily as she walked the
floor, heels clipping sharply against the marble. The redhead was
wearing an outfit straight out of a magazine: black skirt, white lace
tank over a black bra, black silk scarf framing a heart-shaped face
and holding back that mass of hair. Bob wished he could just tear
that lace away and squeeze those ripe melons in his large hands. If
his wife had any idea what he thought of all day with his face buried
between women’s legs, she’d be nagging him into another job.

“I hate them.” The girl spoke abruptly, imperiously, looking
down her pointed nose at him crouched on the floor.

“I-I’m sorry, miss.” Bob stuttered. “Can I show you
something else?” He wasn’t sure what he could show her; she’d tried
every black shoe on display. For a moment, Bob wished that everyone
else hadn’t just gone to lunch, leaving him in sole charge of the
store. He would have loved to pass her on to someone else, since it
looked like he was never going to make a commission on this one. Then
he could just relax and watch her move, fantasizing about how he’d
like to lick his way beneath that leather skirt and into the patch of
cherry-red hair that waited underneath.

“I hate all of them. Don’t you have anything else in back?”
Her tone had shifted slightly, almost pleading. Bob couldn’t resist
that seductive voice. He knew he shouldn’t leave the front
unattended, but it would only take a minute…

“Well, I could certainly check for you.” Bob straightened.
“If you’ll just wait here a moment…” He turned and headed towards
the back, pushing aside a thin hanging drape that led to the
storeroom. Bob made his way down the long marble-tiled floor to the
far rear of the store. Here were the items that they couldn’t sell,
the shoes that had turned out to be too sophisticated, too sexy, too
scary for Indiana. His shoes tapped down the hall, and he was
reaching for a box on a high shelf when he felt a hand suddenly
wrapped around his crotch.

“Miss!” You’re not supposed to be back here…”

She continued to rub his crotch, pressing her firm breasts and
lean body into his back, trapping him against the precarious piles of
boxes. “I want you. It’s been hours since I’ve gotten laid, and if I
don’t get to fuck someone soon I’m going to explode. I need that huge
hard cock of yours! My pussy is dripping for you, salesman.”

Bob shook his head, certain that this could not be happening
to him, hardly daring to believe it was. He made one last
plea…”Please, I’m a married man.”

“You think I care?” With that, she pulled him away from the
boxes and turned him so that he was facing her. In one smooth motion,
she slid to her knees and undid his pants. “Ummm…nice! Even bigger
than I thought!” she said. Before he could frame a response, she had
slipped his pants and boxers below his hips and had his solid cock in
her hungry mouth. She did crazy things to him, mouthing him hard one
moment, caressing his length with her tongue the next. She nibbled on
the tip, her head grinding against his stomach and her hair a auburn
waterfall against his hips. She cupped his balls in two warm hands,
tickling the bottoms with sharp red nails, then she slipped them into
her mouth, one at a time, then impossibly both at once, her hands
pumping up and down on his rigid cock. Then she dug those long nails
into his ass, pulling him even deeper into her ravenous mouth. She
moaned encouragement, and almost before he could breathe Bob felt the
first explosion churning up from deep inside him and he was spurting
cum into the tight throat that was suddenly surrounding his cock.

“Mmmm…good. You taste pretty good, salesman.”

She leaned back then, still on her knees, and lifted her hands
to the zipper that ran down the front of her white lace top. In one
smooth motion, the redhead unzipped the top and let it fall off her.
She was wearing a thin lacy black bra underneath it, and she began to
caress her full breasts through the lace, rubbing thick nipples
against the rough fabric. She leaned her head down and pushed up a
soft breast so that she could just barely reach the nipple with her
lips. But she couldn’t really suck on it, and much as he appreciated
the show, Bob couldn’t take it anymore. He fell to his knees as well
and before she could speak his devouring mouth was on her breast, his
teeth biting the rock-hard nipple through the fabric. Then her hands
reached up between her breasts and unclipped the bra. Bob lifted his
mouth long enough to let the bra fall, and then his lips were pressed
to her naked sweaty flesh.

“Undress.” She whispered the word throatily, and Bob stripped
off his clothes faster than he ever had before. Then he was on her,
his fingers digging into her pale skin, his weight carrying them both
to the cold marble floor. He ran his thumbs up her inner thighs,
pushing up the leather skirt. Bob dug his fingers into her tight bare
ass, suddenly realizing that she wore nothing under the skirt but thin
garter straps. The girl raked her red nails down the muscles of his
naked back, whispering “Oh, Bob! I had no idea!” His mouth covered
hers so she could no longer speak, his tongue ravaging her hot willing
mouth. Bob’s once again rock-hard cock was pressed between her soft
thighs, demanding entry. He couldn’t wait any longer, and with an
animal groan he drove his huge cock into her dripping cunt. He buried
himself deep inside her on the first thrust, then quickly pulled back,
and rammed himself into her once again.

His mouth was still locked on hers, one hand trapping her
wrists above her head, the other ravaging her swollen breasts. Bob
slammed in and out, bouncing her body against the cold marble. She
moaned underneath him, begging, pleading for more. He lifted his
mouth off hers and her moans immediately grew louder, turning into
shrieks of pleasure. He silenced her with a swift hand, and her teeth
dug into his palm. Bob thrust harder into her sweet body, feeling her
beginning to quiver underneath him as her orgasm approached. They
went faster, and faster, and the girl beneath him rocked to a
shuddering explosion, her muffled screams escaping around his hand.
With that, Bob felt his own orgasm upon him in a white-hot fury, his
cum exploding from him in great spurts that filled her still-throbbing

They lay exhausted on the stockroom floor, Bob’s cum dripping
from her pussy to puddle beneath them. When Bob opened his eyes, he
groaned at the sight that greeted him. In their impassioned
flailings, they had knocked over several stacks of shoe boxes. Their
sweaty bodies lay entangled under a pile of leather boots. The scent
of sex and leather filled the tight passageway, making it difficult to
breathe. The girl grinned, and grabbed a pair of thigh-high black
boots. “How much for these?” she asked him. Bob replied
automatically, “$269.95.” The girl smiled up at him, her mass of red
hair spread beneath them, her bruised breasts pressed against his
chest. “Fuck me harder, and I’ll take ’em.”

M.A. Mohanraj

April 25, 1994