Birthday Sex: Gas Station Style Read online

  “How’s your day going?” he asked as I heard the familiar sounds of the register beeping. I licked a trail from his base to his tip - a nice little line. He stiffened.

  “Can’t complain,” a gruff-sounding customer replied. “Just getting off work.”

  “Ge-Getting off?” my cashier stuttered.

  “Needed a little booze before I went home to face the wife and kids. Na mean?”

  “Yeah.” He let out a loud exhale when I moved my head down to lick at his balls.

  Encouraged by the noise, the customer continued. “I mean all the ol’ lady does is nag. ‘Why don’t you ever clean up around here?’ Blah blah blah. Why is she always complainin’? I work all day. What the fuck is she doing? Her nails? The pool boy? I mean, I’m out there working my ass off, getting my balls busted by my boss, only to come home to her telling me to do more stuff!”

  Ball busting. Hmm. I sucked one of his balls into my mouth.

  “Oh… yeah.” I didn’t know if he responded to the customer or my mouth. I didn’t really care. Moving my tongue around, blowing cool air, and softly dragging my teeth, I continued to play with his balls. I felt a tapping on my head. Apparently, the big guy was jealous of all the attention I paid to the little guys. Like a good little penis-pleaser, I moved my hand to start jerking him off.

  “It doesn’t just stop with the cleaning. Sometimes she starts talking about her day. ‘Betty Jo’s husband bought her a new refrigerator – it has a television on the door so she never has to leave the kitchen when she wants to watch The Young and the Restless.’ I don’t care about Betty Jo! I just want to watch some football and drink some beer. Stupid bitch.”

  I caressed my nails down his buttocks to grab hold of his cheeks and squeezed him towards me.

  “Bitch,” he whispered. I smiled against him.

  “Hey now pal, don’t call my wife a bitch. Only I can call the bitch a bitch. Don’t get me wrong. She nags me all the time, but I love her. Been married twenty-five years.” Whipped cream had made its way on my hair, in my hands, and all over my face. I decided to withdraw from him for a moment to get myself together.

  “Hey, what kinda cigs you got here?”

  I froze. The cigarettes were against the back wall and my cashier had his pants down to his knees and his dick out.

  “Ah, Marlboro…” I started to move his pants back up his legs but SOMETHING kept hitting me in the face. “Blue Lantern…” I licked it into submission and finally got his pants up. The zipper was down and his dick was still out but at least his pants were up.

  “How ‘bout Yellow Elephant?”

  I kept trying to shove it back inside but it just didn't want to stay put.

  “All out.” He replied.

  Get in there you misbehaving menace!

  “Darn. Okay, I guess I’ll just stick to the booze. But yeah, thanks man. What was your name again?”

  Success! I finally was able to put his dick away and zip up his pants. The bulge was there but at least it was covered.

  “Ste-- ” he started but I stopped listening and started to crawl back towards the break room.

  **** ****

  I was naked and bent over a couch with my legs spread wide when he finally walked back in.

  “You don’t see that every day.”

  “Stop talking and get inside me.” I heard him chuckle and felt wind stir against my exposed pussy. I grew tired of waiting and decided to start to rub at my clit. It eased the pressure I felt, but I needed more. Feeling my juices start to run down the sides of my legs I started to lose the ability to stand upright. The surprise thrust of his cock jolted me back up.

  “Is this what you wanted?”

  Finally, he was inside of me. Instead of that needy feeling going away, it intensified.

  "I almost came earlier." He pulled my hair up so he could speak directly in my ear. "I wanted to grab you from behind the counter and fuck you right in front of him."

  I met him thrust for thrust reaching for that feeling. Almost there… He started slamming into me faster and faster. I pushed myself back trying to force him in deeper. Trying to get him to hit that perfect spot. Almost…

  He slowed down. "Not yet, baby."

  I was about to protest when he pushed my head down into the couch and used his knees to spread my legs further apart. His weight fell on me and he started pounding into me with frantic energy. With very little space between our bodies, every thrust brought us closer. I could feel his breath on the back of my neck and his heart pound on my back. He was deeper than before, faster than before.

  "Damn." Faster and faster he moved. The sound of our bodies slapping roared through the room and I knew I was about to come. I lifted my arms up to reach behind me and bring him closer. My hands found his ears at the same time his dick found it. The spot. The Holy Grail that lit up the dark room and pulled churned every nerve inside of me.

  The sound around me muted and disappeared and I could only sense his body in mine. When he pushed deeper into me, I felt his orgasm pump against my too sensitive flesh and I feared moving, too afraid the unending throbbing would come to an end.

  Kissing my neck, he leisurely pulled out of me, leaving a wet trail across my skin. The world started to come back into place. I felt the breeze of the room brush against my damp skin and heard my heart beat calm down. My whole body had started relaxing when I felt his tongue.

  “What are you doing?”

  He opened my legs wider and stuck his tongue deeper. “I’m not done yet.”

  **** ****

  And that’s how I spent the rest of my birthday.