Employee Of The Month Pt 02

'Three's a Crowd'

[Rin]

The bathroom mirror looked like shite. Perhaps it was just the person standing inside it. I pressed a pill bottle to my cheek, still cold from the medicine cabinet, exhaling slowly through my nose in a way only someone with a hangover would.

One little white pill, then another. The aftertaste lingered on my tongue moments after, chalky and bitter, a reminder of everything I was trying to forget.

Routine.

Resignation.

Resentment.

Take your pick.

I splashed cold water on my face, waking me up, then rubbed it with my palms like I was trying to scrub the static out of my brain.

It didn't help. It never does. I tried anyway.

[Phone vibrates]

The buzz took me out of my little bubble of melancholy. I grabbed my phone off the counter, expecting a weather alert or spam or something else completely trivial.

Haruka.

Day's off to a great start, I see.

"Fffh..." I inhaled through clenched teeth, thumbing the answer button with the resigned energy of a cat being dropped into a bathtub. "Heyyyy, boss... sorry if I'm running late at the moment."

Her voice came through smooth and syrupy, like honey over poisoned ice cream.

"Heyya, hun! So like, listen, Molly just called in sick a few minutes ago and I need you to cover for her for the night with me. Would that be alright?"

Ah, right.

Molly.

I bit back the groan, but it slipped and came out anyway. "Again...?" I sighed. "Don't you have other employees you can call?"

"Oh, c'mon, you and Molly are kind of my pride and joy in the café," she said. "I trust you both more than I even trust myself~ Please? I do believe you owe Molly a solid too~"

"Fine," I muttered, defeated, already feeling the velvet noose of obligation tightening around my neck. "I'll do it. Not like I've got anything better planned for tonight anyway." Except perhaps wallow in self-pity.

"Great! I mean, hey! If it's compensation you want, I'll be sure to throw a gift your way, 'mkay?"

I glanced at the time: 8:01 AM. My day hadn't even started yet and I'm already wanting to fast-forward to unconsciousness.

"Sure, sure," I replied dryly. "Long as it isn't you trying to squeeze me into some bondage gear again, I'll take it~"

She laughed. That laugh. Too cheerful. Too practiced. Probably does it in the bathroom like I do. "Great to hear. Love ya! See ya!"

[End Call]

The silence afterward was deafening. I let my phone hang limply in my hand, staring down at the sink in front like it had answers.

Come to think of it, Haruka hadn't pulled anything overt in a while--no wandering hands, no loaded stares, no sudden closeness in the employee's room. I told myself it was because she'd finally moved on. Found a new girl-toy to play with.

Molly, probably. I've seen the way Haruka would leer at her.

And honestly? Good. Let them have each other. And knowing Haruka, let the weird predator-prey thing they've probably got going on implode in peace, too. Maybe if I stayed boring enough, quiet enough, she'd stop looking at me like I was a piece of eclair she was dying to devour.

I tossed my phone into my purse, then wiped the fog off the mirror, avoiding the gaze of my own eyes. "Let's just get this over with," I muttered to no one, then left my apartment.

Day shift ended. I dragged my ass back home through the late afternoon haze, promptly collapsing into bed once I got back. Head was still cloudy, partially from last night's vodka and partially from my meds trying to duct-tape my brain back together.

I lay there, face buried in a pillow, groaning softly from exhaustion. Silence blanketed the room. No TV. No phone noise. Just the low, quiet hum of the ceiling fan, and the occasional car rolling by outside. The silence had a weight to it--like it was pressing down on my spine.

Then a thought slipped in.

Molly

.

The kind of thought you don't invite in, but one that kicks the door down anyway.

I sighed, rolled over, and grabbed my phone off the nightstand. The screen lit up. It stung my eyes.

Rin:

Hey, Molly

Rin:

You okay? Haruka told me about you earlier.

Sent. Then I just stared at the screen. Blankly. Watched the message sit there, unread, the dots never dancing. The screen dimmed, then went black again. I didn't try waking it back up.

Minutes passed--or perhaps more. I wasn't really present enough to care. I must've drifted off, just barely, because the buzz from my phone jolted me awake like I had been caught dreaming.

Three new messages.

Molly:

dw abt it

Molly:

just show up for night shift

Molly:

thanks in advance

I blinked at them. Read them again. Then once more for good measure.

Three messages. Cold. Dismissive. None of the usual flair Molly had whenever we'd chat. Maybe she really was sick.

Or maybe something was off.

I stared until the words blurred, then locked my phone without typing a single thing back.

"You're welcome, I guess," I whispered to myself. Couldn't bother typing it out.

I peeled myself off the bed, then shuffled to the bathroom. I tried to fix myself up enough to look alive, tossed on a hoodie and shorts didn't smell too awful over a shirt, scraped a comb through my hair and called it good enough.

Outside, the sky had started to turn a shade of azure. Streetlights were flickering on, headlights began littering the roads. Somewhere in the distance, a siren wailed, then faded.

I zipped up, slid my phone into my pocket, and stepped out into the night.

The café was waiting.

I arrived at the place... and stopped in my tracks.

It was closed.

"What?"

The front lights were still on--dim, humming softly like always--but there were no signs of life inside. No sounds. No shadows behind the dark windows. No Haruka being annoyingly chipper about me being late. Only stillness.

I frowned and checked the time on my phone.

8:57 PM. Three minutes before my night shift was supposed to start.

This doesn't make sense.

I rubbed my eyes, then pressed my fingers against the bridge of my nose with an exhausted groan. Was this payback for screwing up that guy's order the other day? That latte with the heart-shaped foam that came out looking more like a pair of testicles?

Before I could spiral deeper into conspiracy theories, I heard footsteps.

Behind me.

I turned--shoulders tense, heart picking up a notch--and blinked when I saw her.

Molly.

"Huh?"

She didn't say anything. Just smiled at me--closed-lipped, vaguely mysterious--and walked right past, jingling a familiar set of keys as she headed to the front door. Not a trace of sickness on her face, either. Only that half-smile tugging at her lips like she knew something I didn't.

Which, chances are, she probably did.

"Hey, I--uh..." My voice came out hoarse, unsteady. "...thought you were sick?"

No response. She was already lifting the roller shutter, the metal groaning as it went up and over us. Her outfit didn't help with the confusion--a tight tank top that barely went past her stomach, denim shorts that hugged her ass a little too perfectly, and leg warmers rolled up to her knees.

Definitely not what someone would wear when they're curled up in bed with a cold, never mind out and about during the night.

"Molly?" I tried again, a little more pointed this time. Still nothing. She just turned slightly, motioned for me to come inside, then stepped through the door before turning on the lights.

I hesitated. Looked around once, wondering if this is some secret hidden camera prank, before following her in with slow steps and an uneasy pulse. Questions still clung to me like humidity in the summer air.

I took off my hoodie and draped it over one of the nearby chairs, unsure what else to do with my hands. My mouth opened to ask again--

Then Molly spoke.

"Sorry," she said softly, almost a whisper. "I couldn't think of anything else."

I turned to her, brow furrowed. "Hmm?"

Molly didn't meet my eyes at first. Her gaze drifted somewhere past my shoulder, like she was trying to catch her reflection in a memory.

"I know it still weighs down on you..." Her voice was low. Tentative. Each word carefully placed, like stepping barefoot across shattered glass. "...what I've done from before. I just wanna make things right this time... with you."

"What you've--"

The question barely left my mouth before she moved.

In a flash, Molly closed the distance, lunging at me with her hands finding my waist like magnets. She pinned me against the edge of one of the tables. The plastic creaked beneath us, and my spine straightened in reflex.

Her eyes locked onto mine, so close I could see the faint freckles across her cheeks, along with the slight tremble in her breath. Her lips hovered inches away from mine, her entire body pressing heat into me.

Time slowed. Everything stilled but my heartbeat.

Then she whispered, "Let me make it right for you..."

And kissed me.

Not a gentle kiss. Not a sorry kiss. This one came from somewhere deeper--hungry, needy. Her lips molded against my own, her tongue pushed past mine like it had no patience for hesitation, coiling in something messy and desperate. My body froze. My brain flared.

So did the memories of a certain Christmas and beach party.

I tried to shove her off--hands pressing against her shoulders, legs braced to move--but Molly didn't budge. If anything, she kissed me deeper, like my resistance only fed her hunger. Her weight bore down on me, relentless, until my knees buckled and my back arched.

"M-Mmmhhhpp--!"

The table caught me.

Yet before I could even process the fall, she was already climbing on top--one leg slipping between mine, her hand splaying across my ribs, her breath hot and greedy against my cheek.

And just like that, I was flat on my back. Pinned.

With Molly on top, mouth still on mine, devouring every protest that failed to form.

I've had enough.

My hand flew to her throat on instinct--anger, fear, something primal. I no longer cared about having to resort to violence. Molly was my friend. The ginger girl assaulting me, however, was not.

My fingers wrapped around her neck.

I squeezed.

And my whole arm... gave out?

Not all at once--it dripped away from me, my strength bleeding through my fingertips. My fingers, once tense with resolve, now slackened like they'd forgotten what they were there to do.

What the fuck--

I scrambled with my other hand, desperate for leverage, but before I could make use of it, she caught it by the wrist and slammed it to the table beside my head.

Pinned. Helpless.

My heart punched against my ribs. Panic surged up from under my sternum, wild and trembling--but something else came with it.

Heat.

From somewhere deep, lower than my gut, coiling, rising.

No, no no no--

"N-Nmmh, hmmphh!"

I twisted beneath her, trying to buck her off, but it was useless. My limbs were jelly, and my breath shallow. She was reaching under my shirt now, fingers cold against my fevered skin, and the warmth inside me surging so suddenly that I gasped.

My thighs tensed, betraying me. My back arched without permission. My breath hitched and fell into a broken moan.

"Nngh--ghhaa... wh-what did you do to me...?"

The words barely made it out, for my voice was shaking. Fear and something else, something thick and wet and hot curling up from the pit of my stomach.

Molly leaned in close. Her hand cradled my cheek like we were lovers. Her lips brushed my ear as she whispered:

"Love potion~ ♡"

I felt my thighs press together. My eyes fluttered without my permission.

She knew what was happening.

And now, so did I.

"Y... You fuckin' bitc--aghhhmha...!"

My words didn't stand a chance. Molly shoved two fingers into my mouth like she owned it, silencing me in under a second. Her fingertips explored my tongue. Slow, teasing, controlling, while her other hand bled every ounce of resistance in me.

She palmed my breast like it belonged to her, fingers curling over the skin with practiced ease, tweaking my nipple between two fingers, rolling it like a dial. Every movement felt deliberate. Calculated. Cruel. Like she knew exactly which parts of me to touch to make me falter like a house of cards.

No longer were my moans sounds of protest--they were slipping into something else.

Softer.

Hungrier.

My voice trembled between gasps, the heat crawling up my throat, burning away whatever strength I had left.

"Nghh... aahh... ohhh fuhhhckkk..."

I could feel myself melting into the table, limbs losing weight, thoughts slipping sideways.

"Didn't think it'd act this fast," Molly cooed, smug as sin, her fingers that were in my mouth now having moved downward and under my spandex where they found my second set of lips. "You always were full of surprises~"

Slick, grooly, more than ready to take something big.

Never mind two of Molly's digits.

They soon found their way inside, where she moved them with purpose--not too fast, not too slow. Just the right pressure, just the right rhythm, curling upward like she was carving a trench within my walls. Every pass, every stroke across a certain spot inside made my vision blur, made my legs twitch, made my lips part with helpless, shaking moans.

The worst bit? I couldn't tell what was me and what was the drug anymore. Didn't matter.

I had begun to crave her touch like it was another dose of her love potion.

"I knew you'd break eventually," Molly purred against my nose, her fingers still plunging into my cunt like she was rewiring something within. Each stroke was maddeningly precise--two digits curling in a rhythm that made my spine arch and toes curl.

"Just needed a little... push~ ♡"

She punctuated that with a hard thrust, her fingers shoving deeper, rougher, curling up inside me like they were trying to hook something out of my soul. I squealed like a pig.

"Mo... Molly, fuck no, nohoh, I'm gonna cummm...!" My voice broke, cracked, tried so hard to hold on to something--anything, as I begged at her like a woman possessed. "I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna f-fucking cumm--!!"

Not because I wanted her to stop.

But because I was scared of what it'd mean if she didn't.

Because I might actually snap.

"Gosh, you're quite pathetic when you beg," she teased, her breath brushing the shell of my ear. A third finger traced circles over my clit and I shivered, thighs twitching and my brain melting. "It really makes me wanna bully you more~"

She whispered, then slipped said third finger inside me. Slid it in like a key to a lock.

I lost my fucking mind.

"Nnnhh--I'm cummiiinnngghhhh!!"

The orgasm ripped through me like a tidal wave. My back arched off the table, a high, broken moan tearing from my throat as my cunt gloriously erupted.

It wasn't just a trickle--it was a fucking

flood

.

Spurts of my release gushed out, soaking Molly's hand, the table under me, and the floor beneath. My thighs trembled uncontrollably, hips jerking, legs spread wide as I convulsed around her fingers.

Even then, the sadistic bitch didn't let up.

"Ghhnnghh stop, s-stop stopstopstop--!!"

She

kept going

--fingers still drilling, knuckles deep, playing me like a guitar while my body sang out in cries and stuttering breath.

All while she watched me with a gleam in her eye--half pride, half twisted delight.

"Oh yeahh," Molly moaned above me, licking her lips as she stared at the mess I had made. "That was beautiful, don't you think? Didn't know you were this much of a squirter~"

I lay there, twitching. My chest heaved with every breath, still caught in the tail-end tremors of the orgasm that turned me inside out. The world was foggy--colors felt warmer, lights felt softer. Like my body had been rewired for nothing but heat and want.

Molly, meanwhile, was still far from done.

I felt her fingers slide out from between my thighs--slowly. Gently. Every inch of retreat felt like a game of tug of war, like my cunt didn't want to let her go.

"A-Aaahha... ghuuh..."

Then, without prompting, brought those slick, glistening fingers to my lips.

"Open up," she said sweetly, like she was offering her pet a treat.

And I did.

No hesitation.

I wrapped my lips around her digits and sucked on them like I was starving. My tongue lapped up every drop of my own essence, the taste obscene and addicting. I didn't stop, even when the flavor faded--I kept licking, kissing, tracing the pads of her fingers with slow, greedy strokes of my tongue.

My drool mixed with what was left of my release, making her hand glisten anew. It wasn't until she pulled them away from me with a little pop that I finally stopped.

"Mmmm, Rin," Molly purred, her breath hitching just slightly, "You're driving me crazy with this~"

Then she stood. Her hands found my arms, and she pulled me off the table like I weighed nothing, guiding me to sit on the café floor. The tiles were cool against my ass--an odd contrast to the fire still blooming within.

"Don't worry though," she whispered, hooking her thumbs into the waistband of her denim shorts, "If you're feeling hungry..."

Down they went--unzipped, tugged, now wrapped around her knees.

No panties.

Of course not.

Her bare, glistening pussy greeted me--slick with anticipation, flushed, lips slightly parted. The scent hit me first. Sweet, heady, musky in a way that made my eyes flutter and my mouth water.

"I've got something you can eat~ ♡"

Molly stood before me like a fertility goddess descending in slutty denim. Her hands gently pulled apart her folds, and what was revealed made my mouth go dry.

Smooth, pale skin framed the glistening pink of her cunt. A faint patch of ginger fuzz crowned her mound, damp with sweat and arousal. The ceiling lights above caught on the slick sheen of her nectar as it slowly dripped straight from her gloryhole.

I was hypnotized. Entranced.

I knew exactly what she wanted.

And I wasn't about to say no.

Every part of her glistened like sin incarnate, and the scent of her heat reached me in waves--sweet and intoxicating, earthy and ripe. It clung to the back of my throat and stirred something primal in my belly.

I wanted it.

I needed it.

She didn't even have to ask.

Molly had offered me a meal so lewd, so perfect, it felt sacrilegious to hesitate.

She tilted her hips forward slightly, an unspoken command written in the slow curve of her smirk. Her hand slid back into my hair, gently urging my face closer.

I didn't resist.

Who was I to turn down such a generous offering?

[Molly]

I shook my hips a little in front of Rin's face. Not even to be sexy, just to let her see it. My pussy, all drippy and flushed, right there, right in front of her eyes.

I knew she wanted it.

Could see it on her face, even. That look, like she was about to cry if she didn't get a taste.

It was kinda cute. Stupid cute, if anything.

She looked like a puppy moments away from begging.

"What's the matter?" I teased, trying to sound smug, but I was shaking a bit myself. "Ginger kitty got your tongue?"

I pulled her in by the hair--gentle, but firm. She didn't even resist.

"Go on, Rin, let's get you fe--"

I didn't get to finish.

She

lunged

, full-on buried her face into my cunt like she was a starved dog and I was the only meal in the world.

I gasped.

I squealed.

My knees wobbled.

She didn't care. She wanted her meal more than anything else.

"--oohhohh!!"