Newsagent Nights
"Late-night cigarette runs lead to much more with the gorgeous girl behind the counter"
Same corner shop, same time, every night for a month. Marlboro Lights and a Red Bull. Not because I needed them—because of Priya.
She ran the place with her dad, worked the late shift while he slept upstairs. Slim, beautiful, with dark eyes that said she was smarter than this job.
"Same again?"
"You know me too well."
"You come in every night. I'd be worried if I didn't." She rang up my items. "That's eight fifty."
I paid, lingered. "Quiet tonight."
"Always is after ten." She looked at me, something shifting. "Dad's asleep. Been asleep for an hour." She bit her lip. "I could close up. If you wanted to... stick around."
She locked the front, pulled down the shutter. In the dim light of the closed shop, she was even more beautiful.
"Been wanting to do this for weeks," she admitted. "But I couldn't tell if you were interested or just addicted to nicotine."
"Bit of both."
She laughed, stepped closer. "I don't normally do this. Traditional family and all that. But you..." She kissed me, soft at first, then hungrier. "You're different."
"In a good way?"
"In the best way."
We moved to the stockroom, between shelves of crisps and magazines. She pulled off her cardigan, revealing a tight top underneath.
"Like what you see?"
"God yes."
She was slim, toned, with small perky tits that I discovered when I pulled off her top. Her bra was simple, white, and when I unhooked it, she shivered.
"No one's touched me in months."
"Their loss."
I dropped to my knees, pulled down her jeans. Her knickers were damp, and when I buried my tongue in her, she moaned loud enough to worry me.
"Shh—your dad—"
"He sleeps like the dead. Don't stop."
She came against the stockroom shelves, shaking, hands in my hair. Then she was pulling me up.
"Inside me. Please."
I pushed into her standing, her back against the crisps. She was tight, wet, and made these little sounds that drove me crazy.
"Harder—yes—like that—"
We fucked quietly, desperately, both aware of the sleeping father above. She came twice more.
"Close—inside me—"
I came deep, holding her against me.
We fixed ourselves, unlocked the shop.
"Same time tomorrow?" she asked.
"Same order?"
"Add a scratch card. For luck."
Won £10 the next morning. But the real prize was already in my contacts.