I walked into the little frilly gift shop around closing time. It was one of those church-lady type shops with little silver crosses for sale along with cards that had a Bible verse included in the greeting. There were tasteful pictures of Jesus and all those guys all over the place, a few churchy books, and lots of roses and pink shit. It was a place a guy married to a certain type of goody-goody would buy a gift for his wife. I had pushed my shoulder-length hair into my collar, and put on my cleanest pair of jeans and a shirt. I had to make sure I looked like any other respectable customer in his early thirties, maybe not the normal guy who'd be in there, and I knew I had when the pudgy middle-aged woman behind the counter didn't give me a second glance as I walked around the store. I was good at blending in. I had to be in my profession.
I'm a thief, normally a B and E man, but sometimes I just like the thrill of a robbery. I love to see the moment of shock and outraged fear when I slide my gun out of my pocket and let the drab little work-a-day store owner or worker bee know that I mean business. Sometimes I just take what's in the till and let them go. Other times for the jerks that deserve it βyou know, the bosses who are giant dicksβ I take a little more. I'm like Robin Hood, except the poor I'm sharing with is me, myself, and I. This wasn't one of those times though.
That night, I'd planned on just taking what I needed. I was hungry and needed a place to flop, out of the sleet storm that was heading in. The owner of the shop didn't look unpleasant and she probably didn't deserve a lesson. As far as I could tell, she was the only one in the store, and actually seemed a little sad if I could tell from her red eyes and her trembling lips. I kinda hated to be there, but I really needed the cash.
It took a few minutes, but I found the perfect place to hide myself as she began her end of day paperwork. Her cell rang at some point, and I heard her say, "I'm no longer his wife, Ted... I'm sorry, if he has a problem, he needs to take it to that infant he's with, not me... All right, I'll pray for him, but that's all... Now, I'm busy closing. Please don't call me again."
For a few minutes after that I heard her crying. Shit.
I hated to do it, but when I heard her come into the back room, a combination office and storage area, I stepped out from behind the boxes I hid behind.
She shrieked when she saw me, but when I drew out my gun, she got quiet enough. I said, "Do what I say, and there won't be a problem."
She began crying quietly as I directed her to kneel and put her face down on the floor, "Please, don't kill me. Just take what you need."
I pulled her hands behind her back, her fingers fluttering uselessly over her round, surprisingly tight ass as I secured the zip ties. I ran my hand over it before I went to the desk. I took my time going through it. There was almost always some petty cash in places like this. I was enjoying the sound of her tearful sniffling. To be honest, she was kind of turning me on as I looked at her ass jiggle and her gulping moans while she struggled to keep calm.
"Please, just don't take it all. I have bills to pay... I need... m-my husband... ex-husband took everything I have and... he left me for a..." Her words trailed off into a hitching sob, "Not that you care."
This woman was really getting to me with her little drama and her sadness. Maybe I'd gotten soft after my stint in prison, or maybe I was a little lonely myself, but for whatever reason, I stopped what I was doing and just looked at her. She was nothing special, not really. She wasn't unattractive, but she was past most men's sell by date, if you get what I mean. She had her carefully dyed brown hair tied back at the nape of her neck in a tight ponytail, a reasonable amount of make-up that covered some wrinkles and she had still plump, and suddenly very fuckable, lips. She wasn't exactly fat, I realized as I took a good look at her. Yeah, middle-aged spread had hit her, but I could see where her skirt had risen up that her skin was relatively smooth and her ass, under that tight skirt of hers was really was a work of art. I rubbed my dick through my jeans as I felt that first stab of desire spread from my balls up to my belly.
Did I mention that I'd spent five years doing hard time? No sex unless it was with my own hand or with my cellmate, Tiny, a huge, black dude who really knew his way around a cock and a man's asshole, who tried to be as feminine as possible for me so that I would give him my not unsubstantial cock, or let him fuck me, but still... I hadn't had sex with bona fide pussy for a very long time. Yeah, so there was that too, along with that luscious ass sticking up in the air just waiting for a good dicking. My cock surged again as I pictured her skirt rucked up around her waist, her legs spread wide, her pussy weeping and ready for my cock. I pulled my attention away from her. I ain't no rapist, but I don't see anything wrong with blackmail. If I was going to be able to do her, I'd have to make it so she wanted me to do it. I might have to give up on the money, but it would be worth it to spread that sweet ass and fuck her. Even though my game plan might have changed since I came in, I needed a way in.
Absently, I picked up her purse, a huge black, thing covered in letters on the chair beside the desk. It was heavier than I'd expected and so I dumped it out on the desk. As soon as I did, I saw a big, pink, rubber dick with a dimpled knob at the end and a tube of lube spilled out with the rest of the junk. I had my in, even if it did mean I'd sleep rough for a night or two.
"Well, well, well," I said, picking up the toy. "Lookee here."
I hunkered down by her head and smacked her cheek lightly with the dildo. She had her eyes closed. "Look at me, Lady."
She slowly opened her eyes, they were brown and so dark I couldn't tell where her pupils ended and her iris began. I slid the dildo to those fuckable lips, gently pushing it past them and then drawing it out again. I did this several times until her mouth opened just slightly. Any words she was going to say were cut off by the rubber cock as I fucked her mouth a few times with it. By then my own cock was getting hard. I needed relief and I was definitely going to get it one way or the other. As I slid the dildo into her mouth a little further I said, "I don't know many church ladies that run around with a cock in their pocket book. You said you were divorced?
Her tongue snaked out just a little, caressing the rubber head, her eyelids suddenly heavy. She nodded shakily and gave a low noise that could have meant yes, but it could have been arousal, whatever it was, it shot straight to my cock. I asked, "How long's it been since a man put some dick to you? I bet it's been ages. Am I right?"
She nodded with a jerky motion of her head and then opened her mouth and I slid the dildo further inside her cavity. She didn't pull away or act particularly outraged by what I was doing. Things were looking very promising and as I worked the rubber in and out, I'll be goddamned if I didn't want to just open my jeans and jerk off on her face right there and then. I knew I needed a little more finessing before she'd give me what I wanted without a fight, and boy, did I want it all. I could see myself fucking her in every hole she had, filling her with so much jizz that it would drip down her legs. I said, "I think we can work out a deal where you get to keep your money, and I get what I want. You wanna hear it?"