Working in a card store isn’t the most exciting job. Especially since lots of people have stopped buying greeting cards, which means I’m constantly restocking stuffed animals, candy, religious statues and the like.

Justin walked in at the end of a long, boring day. He was tall with sandy-colored hair, big blue eyes and a wide smile. He gave me a sheepish grin, ran his hand through his already tousled hair and said, “I need a card for my mother’s birthday. Which was last week. Which I forgot.”

I had nothing to lose. My pussy had suddenly taken up a heartbeat all of its own as I stood there regarding this handsome stranger in a crisp white shirt and faded jeans. Everything from that smile of his to the way he crossed his arms turned me on.

“You need a card and candy,” I said. “And maybe even one of these.” I grabbed the closest stuffed animal. “An adorable stuffed moose.”

He laughed, and the sound tickled the already wet space between my legs.

“You’re quite the saleswoman, aren’t you?”

I shrugged. “Gotta earn that bacon,” I said. “But honestly, it’s your mom. Your mom.”

That big hand — it looked large enough to palm a basketball — ran over his hair again, and I nearly swooned.

He nodded when I put the moose on the counter and then we considered his candy choices. We went with milk chocolate-coated caramels because they’re always a favorite. Then a card. After spotting the perfect one, I rang him up. When I took his credit card, he wrapped his fingers around my wrist to examine my hand, and my pulse pounded so hard I felt woozy.

“You’re married,” he said sadly, staring at my wedding band.

I pulled my hand back but caught his wrist on the way, tugging him toward me.

“But I’m allowed to have … friendships,” I offered hopefully.

“Really?” he asked with a clear hint of interest.

I heard my manager emerging from the back and realized we were closing soon.

I stood on tiptoe, bent myself awkwardly across the counter and kissed him. On the tail end of the kiss, I bit his lower lip. He made a groaning noise that made me want to fuck him right then and there.

“Think about it,” I said. Then I pushed the bag across the counter, and as my boss approached I said, “Thank you, sir! Have a nice night!”

Justin caught on quickly and thanked me in return.

I whispered, “I work the same shift tomorrow, but it’s just me. She’s off.”

I watched color flood his cheeks as he nodded then studied his denim-clad ass as he left. I wondered if he’d come back. I had a good feeling about him.

The next day was chilly. The forecasters had been calling for snow. When I left the house that morning, my husband asked me why I looked so happy.

I grabbed him by his work tie and told him I had a secret.

At some point, I’d tell him about it. While he fucked me or while I watched him jerk off. But for now, knowing I had a secret would fuel his fantasies and our fucking.

I wore tall black boots, thigh-high stockings and a long black dress. All day long beneath my modest outfit my cunt was wet. I’d forgone panties because I had hope.

My forethought paid off about an hour before the store closed. The first fits and swirls of snow were coming down, and it gave the whole moment a magical feel: the darkness outside punctuated by the parking lot lights, the bell on the door dinging as Justin entered, the way he shook the snow off himself and how he said hello.

“Hi,” I replied, coming out from behind the counter and standing before him. My nipples were hard. Not from the chill he’d let in, but from the fact that he was standing in front of me. He’d returned.

He studied me for a moment and then reached out to trace his fingertip around my obviously erect nipples.

I exhaled slowly, feeling the shivery response to his touch work through me.

I took a step forward, closing the gap between us. My breasts pressed against his shirt. He wrapped his arms around me, grabbed me by the ass and hauled me forward. Then we were pressed together, belly to belly, chest to chest. I felt like I’d come just from having his hands on me, squeezing and kneading my body.

He tugged at my dress, slowly working the fabric up in the back.

When he discovered I wasn’t wearing panties, I distinctly felt the jerk of his stiffening cock against my mound.

He squeezed my ass, and I sighed.

“Lock the door,” he said.

I waited a moment, liking the feel of his hands sliding along my body. I loved that we were right there in the well-lit store as darkness pressed the windows and anyone — fuck, anyone — could have seen us.

His hand slid around to trace my hip, then he pressed his palm to my pussy, his fingers curling against me.

I sighed again as he kissed me, his tongue slick and warm against mine.

“That door,” he said.

I took the sign I’d used at lunchtime and taped it up on the glass: “Back Soon. Sorry for the Inconvenience.”

Then I flipped the lock on the door. I took his hand and led him back to the office.

Once inside, he pushed me forward gently so my hands hit the desk. A slew of sale signs slid off and landed on the floor.

He came in close behind me, and I heard his zipper.

“Tell me you want it,” he said.

“Fuck yeah, I want it,” I answered. I pressed my ass back toward him eagerly, hoping he could see how wet I was. Slick, swollen and ready, that was me.

He ran his hands up the insides of my thighs, then slid his finger into my drenched cunt. We both sighed.

He pushed a second digit into me, and I heard the tandem whisper of his hand stroking his cock.

I whimpered, moving against his finger and pushing back to welcome him.

“Hurry. I need it,” I pleaded.

I heard his belt jangle, then it and his pants hit the floor. He looped one arm around my waist and another around my chest, holding me tight — nearly too tight — as he entered me. He slid into me easily then thrust deeply, lifting me up on my toes. I nearly came from my desires and the force of his movements.

“Is this what you want?”

“Yes,” I said, nodding.

He held me tightly, driving up into me repeatedly and making me dance on my tippy-toes. He growled in my ear, “I thought about this all fucking night. Of you. Of fucking you. What you’d feel like.”

“And?” I whispered, right on the edge of climaxing, but not there yet. I had no need to rush it. Relief was close. I’d be coming any second.

“And you’re just as soft and wet and hot as I’d hoped.”

I shut my eyes and let him rock into me. I went limp in his arms. A welcoming receptacle. A willing partner in crime.

He jerked against me, his fingers curling into my flesh. My pussy grew tighter, my breath shorter. And then I was coming, going limp in his arms.

“Jesus,” he said as my cunt worked his driving cock. He sounded like a man just on the verge.

His arms loosened, and I broke his grip to lean against the desk and push back to take him. But he pulled free of me.

“Turn around,” he said.

I spun quickly with my dress hiked up and my legs shaking.

He studied me, his cock standing out at attention. He gave it a stroke here and there as I watched. I was mesmerized by his hand on his erection.

He stepped toward me and pushed a finger inside my pussy. He slid it in and out, and my cream coated his fingers. He hummed softly with pleasure.

I gasped and arched, eager for his driving digits.

“How’s that? Want another?”

I nodded eagerly, watching his fingers plunge deep inside me. He pulled them free and then slid them up over my tender clit.

“Yes,” I said.

He grinned at me. “Yes?”

“Yes,” I said.

He did it again, pushing his fingers deep before dragging them over my clitoris.

Before long, I was coming again.

He watched my face as my orgasm hit.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he said, pushing his slick fingers into my mouth. I licked them, sucked them, drew on them as I would’ve his cock.

He leaned forward and grabbed my right leg. Then he held it up as he drove into me again, face-to-face this time.

His gaze was intense as he fucked me.

I kissed him, pulling him tightly to me by the back of his neck, and bucking my hips to get his dick deep inside me.

“You want to come again?” he asked.

I nodded wildly. Every time he thrust forward and brushed my clit, pleasure flowed through me.

We screwed rough and fast. Another orgasm hit, smaller but no less sweet, and I gasped. I bit his lower lip hard enough to make him growl.

He pulled out of me and said, “Back the way you were. Hands down, ass in air.”

I splayed myself there on my manager’s desk. Facedown, butt up, as he pushed into my cunt once more.

He made an animalistic sound when he finally came, and his exclamation sent a shiver through me.

“Was it everything you hoped?” I asked.

“And then some.”

“Will you come again?”

“Is that an invitation?”

“It definitely is.”

“Then consider this my RSVP,” he said before giving me a passionate kiss.