Getting stuck working a double shift blows.

Getting stuck when the second half of your double is the graveyard shift at a 24-hour pharmacy sucks and blows. Not only was I working ten to six, but my only coworker had called to say she’d be a few hours late.

The only other person in the store was the lone pharmacist who looked like he’d fallen asleep reading a magazine.

I busied myself putting out the summer merchandise. Lawn chairs, citronella candles, bug spray, and flip flops, all the while wondering why the hell pharmacies carried these things. But a buck was a buck and the stuff sold, so there you have it.

The bell on the door dinged and I turned, hoping it was Rita arriving for her shift, not late after all. But it wasn’t. It was a tall guy with black hair and eyes as blue as some of the candles I’d just stocked.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” I replied, trapped by that blue gaze. Then I caught myself and said my opening schtick followed by the obligatory, “Can I help you?”

“Ice cream?”

I almost laughed. Not a condom emergency or an antihistamine emergency, or the more popular contact lens solution emergency. This was an ice-cream emergency.

“Over here,” I said, leading him to the food section where we did, in fact, have a small ice-cream freezer. “We don’t sell the big containers but we sell single serve and pints,” I rambled. Mostly because I was bored.

I stood there with him and then caught my faux pas. Never hover over the customers. But when I turned to leave, he engaged me again with, “So what do you think? Peanut Butter? Double Chocolate? Bubble Gum?”

I wrinkled my nose without thinking about it, and he laughed softly. The sound coursed up my arms, raising the fine hairs there in its wake. The sensation settled at the nape of my neck with a little prickle. He was hot. Definitely hot. But I was working, and someone this hot was most likely with someone.

“Yeah, bubble gum is gross,” he sighed. “Never understood bubble gum ice cream.”

“Are you high?” I blurted.

That earned me an outright laugh that somehow lit me up on the inside. I’d made him laugh. Not only was I lit up, but I noticed my pussy was wet and my nipples were hard little spikes beneath my ugly work smock.

“Nope. Just got dumped. So I wanted ice cream.”

“I thought that was just girls,” I said. When he cocked his head and smiled, I added, “Which is totally sexist, I’m sure. And by the way, who the fuck would dump you?”

Shit. I was rambling. That’s what exhaustion got me.

“A girl,” he said. “Clearly not the right girl. Which is why I’ve officially given up on relationships. Now I’m going the sex-no-attachment route.”

Something about that statement made my face grow hot. “Good plan. I’ve been there for a while.”

A smile spread across his face, and he touched my hand. The place where he touched me felt like it had been struck by lightning, and I shifted my stance because my wet pussy had grown wetter. “Really? Do tell? Does it work? Is it worth it?”

“I… yes. I mean…” Don’t say it, don’t say it… But I said it. “I can show you if you want.”

“You can show me? Aren’t you working?” But as he said it his hand curled around my wrist, his big fingers trapping my pulse so that it thumped like a drum.

“Yes, and as you can see, we are swamped.”

That earned me another laugh, and I had to squirm again.

He glanced around, and I whispered, “Cameras are broken. Pharmacist appears to be having a siesta, the other girl won’t be here for another hour, and I have permission to do” — I hurried to the front door and flipped the sign so it read “Back in 10 Minutes” — “That.”

He raised an eyebrow, and my mouth went dry. “I’d need more than ten minutes with you.”

“You’ll have it.”

Before I could think about it, I grabbed his warm hand and tugged him along toward the stockroom. The door shut, and there was room to move. I couldn’t lock it, but when I pointed to a stack of boxes, he took the hint and shoved them in front of the door.

“Hurry,” I said.

“I thought you had time.”

“I do. I just want to do this.”

He grinned, and I eagerly shed my horrible gray work smock. Beneath, I had on a black tank top and no bra. He saw that and eagerly grabbed the straps and pulled me close. He kissed me once — fast, deep and brutal — and then shoved the tank up, exposing my small breasts. He squeezed them and then pinched my nipples hard enough to make me gasp. When his mouth settled on my left nipple, licking and sucking, I let my head fall back and a sigh escaped me.

Yes, it had been a long, shitty day. Yes, double shifts were a thing of nightmares. But this, this could take the yuck out of any day, no matter how long and awful.

He pushed a hand down into my jeans, breached my panties and, finding me wet, pushed his fingers in my cunt, fucking me hard with his fingers as I held his arms to keep my balance.

“I like this so far,” he said, laughing against my other breast. He used his teeth to draw my nipple out until it stung, but then soothed it with broad licks with his hot tongue.

I’d pushed my own hand into his jeans and found his dick gloriously hard and long. I played my fingertips over the top, finding a slick of pre-come there.

“Take those jeans off,” he said, breaking our contact. I shimmied out of them and watched him shedding his like a tall snake shedding denim skin. His cock sprang up, spectacularly rigid and thick to boot.

He sank to his knees, grabbed my hips and pulled me to him. His arm knocked my stance wider and then he pushed his mouth to my pussy, tracing my outer lips with his tongue, torturing me so I squirmed. When I groaned, turned on and frustrated, he put me out of his misery and sucked my clit into his damp, warm mouth. His tongue tickled at my button, and his fingers drove back inside me.

I stabilized myself on a stack of boxes and arched forward. He sucked again, drawing secret symbols on that hard nub with his tongue until I bit my lip to silence my cries and came.

“Wet,” he said, fingers slipping inside me again. “So fucking wet. And to think,” he said, standing. “All I wanted was some ice cream and a pity party.”

“No pity allowed,” I said. “Only fucking.”

I took him in hand and slid my fist up and down his length. I bent at the waist and sucked him deep. I only managed to slide my mouth along his cock a few times before he gathered handfuls of my long hair in his fists and tugged gently so I stood.

“Turn around,” he growled.

“His fingers plunged into me from behind and then moved forward to slicken my clit.”

I turned, splaying my upper body on the stack of boxes. I expected him to enter me, but instead he dropped to his knees again, biting gently along each ass cheek so that I thrashed restlessly but loved every second. His fingers plunged into me from behind and then moved forward to slicken my clit with my own juices. All the while his teeth scraped and nipped my bottom and the backs of my thighs. He fucked me with his fingers, withdrew to lube my clit with them, and then he rimmed my asshole with his tongue until I lost it. I came again, just as hard, fingers scrabbling against the cardboard boxes and legs shaking like they were going to buckle and dump me on the floor.

Then he stood, taking my hips in his hand, squeezing so that I stayed still. He drove into me on a slow controlled thrust, and I gasped, hair hanging in my face. I was awake now. This was so much better than a millionth cup of coffee.

He fucked me fluidly, no rush, no hesitation. One big hand splayed along my lower back possessively. I shut my eyes, imagining that big hand spanning my body, imagined it leaving a handprint on me so I could remember this.

He withdrew his cock, and I whimpered, but he pushed his fingers back inside me, teasing my G-spot, before plunging his cock back in my cunt. A wet finger wormed into my ass. Slowly at first, but when I groaned and took it easily, he added a second.

With his fingers in my ass and his cock pounding my pussy, I let myself go. I let him take me and have me, and I released all the frustration and exhaustion of the day.

He grunted, sliding those fingers in and out of my back hole, the friction palpable as his cock moved in and out of my cunt.

“This is quite the pick-me-up,” he said, his voice deep.

“Agreed.”

“And seeing this. My dick going in and out of your pussy, my fingers working their way into your ass, I’m a goner. I want you to come with me. Can you come with me?”

His voice was gruff with barely-there self-control.

“Fuck yes,” I said.

That was all he needed. His tempo sped up as he fucked me hard enough that only my toes touched the floor. I gripped the boxes, driving back against him, working one hand beneath my chest to pinch my nipple hard enough that I saw stars. When he growled, “Fuck…”

I knew he was coming. I pinched again, and I came right along with him. That bright spot of pain pushing me over the edge into my own release.

I heard the bell for the front door. “Shit!”

We were laughing, putting ourselves back together, as the bell rang again. Before I could hurry out on shaky legs he grabbed me and kissed me.

“Thanks for the ice cream,” he said.

I blushed. “There are better flavors than bubble gum. Definitely.”

He kissed me one last time before following me out. His tongue tasted like me.

Check out the Full Gallery