Joanne never knew when to shut her damn mouth. Always talking, always bragging, always finding a way to make herself the center of attention in the store. Big tits, fat ass, and that smug way her shirt hugged her DD's. Every Monday morning, it was the same: stories about stuff she did over the weekend, or how wild the party got, or what younger guy had been trying to hook up with her. She thought it impressed people. Really, it just made most of us roll our eyes.

Jennifer didn’t help. She had this wicked grin when she cornered me near the supply shelves.
“You know Joanne’s been begging for details since I told her about you,” she whispered, like it was a joke she couldn’t wait to see play out.

Sure enough, Joanne was a few feet away, pretending to straighten boxes, but her ears were locked on our conversation.

I glared at Jennifer. “You weren’t supposed to say anything. I don’t need her yapping all over the store.”

“Too late,” Jennifer said, smirk widening as she walked off, leaving me by myself.

Joanne didn’t waste time. She strutted right over, hips swinging, that sharp little smile already on her lips.
“So Jennifer tells me you’ve got a really nice cock,” she said, voice smooth, almost taunting. “Care to show me? Same storage room?”

I stared at her. “I don’t think you can handle me. Besides, you talk too much, and I’d need everyone to know.”

She smirked harder, like I’d given her exactly what she wanted. “It will be worth your while.”

She grabbed my wrist, dragged me down the short hallway, and took us both into the back room where we kept the backstock. The door slammed shut behind us. Her hands were already clawing at my zipper, her mouth watering in anticipation.

“I don’t want romance,” she growled. “I want you to fuck me. Fuck me like you did to make Jennifer walk funny.”

My patience was done. I spun her around, slammed her face-first against the counter, and shoved my hand down the back of her jeans, gripping a handful of that thick ass. The shitty fluorescent lights flickered above us, catching the bold lines of a tramp stamp squirming above her crack. Cheap ink, but it flexed as she pushed back into my hand.

I yanked her shirt open, pulled it down off of her shoulders, and popped the half dozen hooks to her bra. Her tits spilled free — heavy, full, nipples stiff with silver bars through them, one vertical, one horizontal. I twisted them hard, yanking until she gasped, then twisted harder just to hear her choke on it.

“Like that, you smart-mouthed cunt?” I snarled.

“FUCK, yes,” she groaned, eyes glassy, grinding against me.

Her jeans and panties came down in one rough yank, and that’s when I froze for a second. Her pussy looked like a jewelry display case — a thick bar through her clit, rings lined through her lips, studs glinting at the hood. Every move made the metal click faintly in the silence.

“Jesus,” I muttered. “You look like you’re rusting from the crotch out.”

She grinned over her shoulder, breathless. “Scared?”

“Not even close.” I slapped her bare pussy so hard the piercings clinked together, making her yelp. Then I slapped it again, harder, just to hear it one more time.

She dropped to her knees like she’d been waiting for that cue. She wrapped her lips around my cock, no warm-up, no teasing. She went straight to deepthroating, fucking her own face like her life depended on it. 

She stopped to babble something about me, about how I was her “mid-shift snack.”

“Shut the fuck up and suck my cock,” I growled, fisting her hair. I rammed myself deep down her throat, holding her nose to my base until she gagged hard, mascara streaking down her cheeks. She clawed at my thighs but didn’t quit, slobbering, using her throat like it belonged to me.

When I ripped her off me, her face was a wreck — her makeup fucked. She gasped for air, grinning through it.

I shoved her onto the counter, legs spread wide, her pierced pussy glistening under the lights. I shoved two fingers deep without warning, curling them up hard against her G-spot. Her whole body reacted, a ragged moan leaking out of her mouth. I fingered her huge gash, jewelry clicking, moaning like a whore. She squirted across my hand, but I didn’t stop — jammed a third finger in, twisting inside her until she writhed like she couldn’t tell if it was agony or bliss.

“Greedy fucking slut,” I growled. “You leak like a busted faucet.”

I yanked my fingers out and spun her around. Bent her over the counter, shoved my cock into that pierced, sloppy, wet pussy in one brutal thrust until I was buried to my balls. She gasped, nails raking across the surface, trying to push back against me for more.

“Stay still,” I snarled, smacking her ass so hard the sound cracked through the room. A red handprint bloomed instantly.

Then I fucked her — raw, jackhammer thrusts, hips pounding her fat ass into the edge of the counter hard enough to rattle everything stacked on it. The tramp stamp flexed under my grip as I slammed into her. Metal scraped and clicked inside her pussy with every stroke, piercings grinding against my cock.

“You’re just a cheap slut,” I snarled. “Three holes to fill. Nothing more.”

She tried to sass back, voice breaking between moans. “You can’t—ahh—talk to me—ahh—”

I reached under her, grabbed that thick clit bar, and twisted it viciously. She screamed, whole body reacting, clamping down on me as another orgasm ripped through her. Her juices spilled down her thighs, soaking both of us.

“That’s it,” I growled. “Cum for me like the filthy whore you are.”

I drove harder, not letting her breathe, every thrust pushing her chest into the counter until she was sobbing and clawing at anything she could reach.

Finally, her voice cracked, desperate. “Cum in me. Do it, fill me up.”

I slammed into her harder, forcing her flat against the counter. “You’re not in charge. You take what I give you.” One last brutal thrust, and I buried myself deep, cock pulsing, pouring inside her. My cum flooded her, spilling out around the piercings, dripping down her thighs.

I didn’t stop. I kept fucking her through it, pushing my load deeper until she groaned again, body shaking apart under me. Only when she collapsed against the counter, gasping, did I pull out.

Cum spilled down the glint of metal between her lips, streaking her thighs. I smacked her ass one more time, hard. “Next time, you learn to shut the fuck up before I gag you with your own panties.”

She looked back at me over her shoulder, her mascara fucked, and her hair wrecked, weird, shitty grin on her face.

“Round two,” she panted, voice hoarse. “Somewhere I can scream louder.”

I zipped up, smirking. “We’ll see. But next time, I’m bringing a gag, you noisy bitch.”

She licked her lips, eyes bright despite the mess. “Hate sex?”

“Exactly.”