Cash Converters Conquest

Cash Converters was the last resort—desperate times, desperate measures. But selling my old PS4 got a lot more interesting when I met Chanelle.

She was the owner's daughter, helping out for the summer. Thick in every way—curves for days, fake tan, acrylics that could double as weapons, and a pushup bra doing God's work under her work polo.

"What you got then?" she asked, leaning on the counter in a way that put everything on display.

"PS4 and some games. Need the cash."

"Don't we all." She examined the console with zero interest, her eyes on me instead. "Forty quid."

"Come on. That's robbery."

"It's business." She smiled, all charm. "But maybe we can negotiate. Dad's out for an hour. Fancy a... private valuation?"

The back office was cramped, filled with locked cabinets and security monitors. She cleared the desk with one sweep of her arm.

"Been bored out of my tits all day," she said, hopping up onto the desk. "You're the first fit bloke I've seen in weeks. Everyone else is selling their nan's jewelry for smack money."

"Charming."

"It's honest." She pulled me between her legs. "Now are you gonna kiss me or what?"

I kissed her. She tasted like bubblegum lip gloss and desperation—the good kind. Her nails raked down my back through my shirt.

"Mm. Knew you'd be good." She pulled back, yanked off her polo. Underneath, a gold bra that matched her tan. "Like what you see?"

"Fucking love it."

I unhooked the bra, watched her tits spill out. Massive, probably enhanced, with nipples that were begging for attention. I gave it to them.

"Shit—yeah—suck them—"

She was loud, shameless. The security monitors showed the empty shop floor while I made her moan.

"Need you inside me," she gasped. "Now. Right now."

Her work trousers came down—gold thong underneath, matching the bra. I pulled it aside, found her already dripping.

"No foreplay needed. Just fuck me."

I did. Pushed in hard, watched her head fall back. She was tight, hot, and moved her hips like she knew exactly what she wanted.

"Harder—yeah—give it to me—"

The desk rattled, papers falling. On the monitors, the front door was still—no customers. I fucked her without holding back.

"Gonna cum—don't stop—right there—"

She came with a scream, nails drawing blood on my shoulders. I followed right after, buried deep.

We lay there on the desk, surrounded by paperwork, both panting.

"Seventy quid," she said eventually.

"What?"

"For the PS4. Consider it a negotiated price."

I laughed, kissed her again. "Deal."

She counted out the cash, slipped her number under the notes. "Come back next week. I'll be bored again."

"What if I've got nothing to sell?"

"Then buy something. And return it the day after."

Clever girl. I walked out with seventy quid, her number, and a reason to love pawn shops.