Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 78696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
“The dollar store’s power is out due to the storm,” he said, grabbing the nine-inch whopper dong that was directly in front of him.
“Umm,” I interrupted him. “If you don’t mind me asking, how many batteries do you need?”
His shrewd blue eyes turned to me, and I had to bite my lip to keep from gasping.
“I need six of them,” he answered.
I nodded.
“Then that one,” I said, pointing to our most popular one, “Would be your best bet. It’s the cheapest that we have that takes six.”
I handed him the All American Whopper Vibrator and promptly blushed from the roots of my hair all the way to the base of my neck.
“Thanks,” he said, tucking it under his arm as he followed me back to the counter. “Got any drinks here?”
I shook my head. “No. Not unless you want a Capri Sun,” I said, pulling my stash out from under the counter.
He shook his head. “No. I don’t want to take your drink. Thanks…”
He stopped when a moan drifted up to us from the dressing room.
I sighed. “Be right back.”
I walked through the fetish wear and stopped at the closed dressing room stall that was only half a door for this very reason.
“Sir,” I said. “Ma’am. You can’t do that in here. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
I freakin’ hated it when people had sex in the dressing rooms!
I mean, seriously! Who does that?
A moan was the only thing that drifted to me in reply and I started to get mad.
People thought that since I was just five feet two inches tall, that I wouldn’t bust my fist on their face…but they would be wrong. I grew up with two brothers who treated me like a little brother instead of a little sister.
I knew how to hold my own. They made sure of that.
I pulled my keys out of my pocket and opened the dressing room door to find a pasty white ass thrusting viciously into the willing vagina of his girlfriend.
“Excuse me,” I said. “Do you mind taking that outside before I call the police?”
The guy kept thrusting, but the woman’s eyes opened.
She promptly started slapping the man on the back of one thigh.
However, the man kept going, and I knew this was going to get nasty.
I’d detected the guy was on something the moment they’d come in here.
His pupils were dilated, his eyes were slightly unfocused, and I just knew – I knew – he was going to be trouble. His girl, though, hadn’t been wasted.
In fact, she’d been just fine.
And she looked nervous as hell to be in a sex store.
Now, though, she didn’t seem all that embarrassed if the coloring that rode high on her cheeks was any indication.
“She said to fucking leave,” the deep voice said from behind me. “Get your fucking cock out of her and get the fuck out.”
I coughed.
The guy listened to the man, though.
Thank God.
He turned around with a glare, pulling himself from the woman with little care that he was swinging it out for everyone to see.
He had a pretty sizable cock, but it was nothing compared to the monster dildo I used.
“Please leave,” I said again.
The man glared and bent down to pick up his jeans that were around his ankles, roughly pulling them up and over his still hard cock.
Luckily, he left without another word, the girl trailing behind him.
“That happen often?” The man asked.
I shrugged. “At least once a shift.”
His eyes showed surprise, and I thought it was kind of funny.
I didn’t think much of anything would shake this man, but it appeared that knowing that I dealt with that type of situation on a daily basis was upsetting to him.
Weird.
“That’ll be thirty-two fifty,” I said softly.
He handed me his credit card, and I swiped it, not able to help myself from looking at the name on front before handing it back.
Griffin.
That was an interesting name, and fit him aptly.
I wondered if he went by Griffin.
“Have a nice night,” he said as soon as I’d handed him the receipt.
I couldn’t say I wasn’t disappointed…because I was.
Very much so.
But it wasn’t all that surprising.
I didn’t get many second looks.
It was the red hair.
Match that with my pasty white skin, freckles on top of my freckles, and a scar that ran down the center of my chest, and it was kind of obvious why men didn’t bother giving me a second look.
Not that he could see that scar, but I’m sure if he did, he’d freak out just like the other men who’d seen it did.
It was my hair length, though, that fascinated most guys.
It hung down to the bottom of my ass cheeks if it was unbound; which it usually wasn’t.
And guys seemed to think it was really cool that I had such long hair, which was inevitably what made them stop to talk to me in the first place.
The next few hours seemed to drag by as I waited for the end of the night. By the time two A.M. rolled around, I was practically bouncing off the walls to leave.
Not that I had anything to go and do on my Saturday night.
Nobody in Uncertain, Texas had anything to do on any night, whether it be Monday or Saturday.
We had two restaurants that closed at eight P.M., two bars, a Walgreen’s near the interstate, a Dollar General, and a neighborhood grocer.
That was literally it.
Unless you wanted to go to the lake, something that I didn’t do. Not at night, anyway.
Being eaten by an alligator wasn’t really my thing.
Humming to myself, as I always did, I locked up and started to walk around the building where I parked.
As I spotted my car, I nearly choked on my tongue when the dildo that Griffin had purchased a few hours earlier, sat on my hood with a note that said, “I won’t be needing this.”
I laughed as I took it home.
I wasn’t laughing at all an hour later when I was using that thing of beauty and calling out Griffin’s name as I came.