Kinky Tales from the Convenience Store - Part 3

Click here to read the previous parts of the story.

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"I think I might have to move," Amber announced.

It was a little after 3 a.m. There was a minivan at the gas pump and a tired-looking, portly guy filling the tank. A woman slept in the front seat. I'd been staring out the window at the guy and wondering if he was going to fall asleep standing up, but Amber's comment pulled my attention towards the magazine racks where she was stocking the newest issues of the hunting magazines that tended to sell pretty well.

"Why?"

She looked at me like it was an impossibly stupid question.

"What? What am I missing?" Then it clicked. "Oh, is it weird for you? Do you see them in the hallways or something?"

The 'them' I was referring to was the married guy that Amber had cheated with and the guy's wife, who'd come to Chubby's looking to kill Amber and had ended up screwing me as a way of getting revenge on her husband. Yeah, it was trashy as hell, but the sex had been awfully good and I was young and stupid and didn't really care about being trashy.

"Yes, you could say that it's weird. Tara still hates me. She doesn't want to kill me, but she still hates me. Her husband still wants to have sex with me, too. I made it clear I wouldn't be doing that, but he still knocks on my door when she's out. He begs for it. I'm kind of glad for that, though, because there is no bigger turn off than a guy begging for sex."

"Yeah, I can see why you think you might have to move," I said. I looked back out at the pumps and the guy from the minivan was coming inside. I greeted him and he grunted in my direction before heading for the coffee. He poured himself a big cup, added a shitload of sugar and cream, and tossed five dollars on the counter without stopping. I rang him up and pocketed the change as he headed for his car and what I hoped was the last leg of the family's road trip.

"Why are they still together?" I asked. "Tara and her cheating husband, I mean."

Amber again looked at me like I'd asked a stupid question. That wasn't entirely uncommon, though. I suppose I was prone to asking stupid questions. "Really?"

"Don't look at me like that. It's a perfectly normal thing to wonder why someone would stay with her husband after he'd cheated on her numerous times. It's also a perfectly normal thing to wonder why a man would stay with a woman he was cheating on, and why he would stay with her after she'd cheated on him."

Instead of looking at me like I was an idiot, Amber smiled. "You might be a very sweet guy, Carl. You might also be hopelessly naive."

I wasn't entirely sure what she meant, though I liked that she thought of me as a sweet guy.

"Perhaps I just have a really dark, fucked up view of humanity, though," she continued. "Because it's not the slightest bit surprising that they'd stay together. I mean, most people seem to have a really hard time getting out of their own way. Look at the two of us, for example. We have what many would say is one of the worst jobs in the world and neither of us is working all that hard to change our fortunes in life. In fact, you could make the argument that neither of us is putting any effort into changing our fortunes. We're like most people in that we're content to merely survive instead of trying to thrive."

She wasn't wrong, of course. Working the overnight shift at a highway convenience store is a terrible job, especially since there's no real future to it. It's not like I was going to rise up at Chubby's, you know? I was going to earn a little more than minimum wage and it was never going to get much better than that.

"Sorry," she said after I'd remained silent for who knows how long.

"You're not wrong. I've never thought of myself in that way, but you're not wrong."

She felt bad. I could see it in her eyes. "We're still young, though," she offered. "We could probably make something of ourselves."

"We certainly could," I replied, though I wasn't sure that was true. "Have you ever considered trying to make something more of yourself? Trying to do more than survive?"

"I have a friend who makes crazy money serving cocktails in Vegas. She says it's shitty work and she gets groped a whole lot, but she said she makes something like $100/hour, which is fucking nuts."

I could feel the surprise on my face. The big eyes. The mouth agape. That's crazy money. "No shit. Why don't you do that? I mean, the groping sounds awful, but your friend is right that it's crazy money."

Amber suddenly looked kind of shy. "I don't know. I've never thought of myself as someone that guys would give big tips to because they want to fuck me. I mean, that's why my friend earns those tips, you know? Guys are stupid and they think that a good tip will end with them going home with her."

"I'm pretty sure you could be that kind of woman," I said. "I mean, you gotta do your hair and makeup in a certain kind of way, I think, but I'm sure the bar provides the clothing that enhances, you know..."

"My tits?" she asked with a smile.

"Yes, exactly. Your tits."

Amber then lifted her shirt and showed me her tits in a simple pink bra. I have no idea why she did so, though I suspect it was partly to release whatever tension she was feeling. I stared because she was offering a view. I thought about how she'd let me play with her tits while jerking me off a handful of weeks ago. My cock stirred - not to a fully erect state - and I smiled as a result of the genuine happiness I felt.

"That was nice of you," I said as she lowered her shirt. "Guys don't really have an equivalent thing they can offer a girl, huh? I mean, maybe if I had great abs or something, but otherwise not really."

"Not even great abs," she said. "Men and women are just different. I mean, some women would probably be comforted by a big bank account. Some by a big cock, but not nearly as many as guys would think. Some by a guy offering a warm hug that makes a girl feel protected. There are so many options for a woman, and just about every straight man on the planet feels good in some way when a girl flashes her tits at him."

"So true," I replied. "I could give you a hug. I mean, I don't know if it would make you feel safe, but I could give you a hug."

To my surprise, Amber set the hunting magazines down and headed my way. I stepped out from behind the register and we hugged. I held her close for what felt like a minute and I was quite proud of myself for not getting hard, which is a real dirt bag thing to do when you're hugging a girl. She then gave me a kiss on the cheek and thanked me softly before returning to the magazines.

"Have you thought about Only Fans?" I asked after five minutes of relative silence between us.

I was in the snack aisle at that point and Amber had moved to stacking the nudie magazines - yes, they still made them and, amazingly, people still bought them - and her head popped up as I asked the question.

"I've thought about it. I have a few friends that do it. They all say it's way harder than you might think to make real money, though. A small percentage of people make huge amounts of money and almost everyone else makes way less than you'd think. It does seem like a good way to make money if you can crack it, though."

I honestly hadn't considered that it might be hard to make money on OnlyFans. I just figured that you took some pictures and videos, put them up, and the money just rolled in. To me, it seemed that the biggest decision was whether or not you were comfortable with naked images of yourself being online forever.

"Have you thought about Only Fans?" she asked.

"What? No." I took a moment and asked, "Do dudes make money on there?"

"Sure. There's lots of gay porn on Only Fans. I've seen some of it."

"Oh, well, I'm not gay."

"I'm sure most of them aren't either. Just flexible. They're making money however they can, you know?"

I didn't know. I couldn't imagine making gay porn to make money. I couldn't imagine I'd be able to get hard for another guy, but maybe that's not what they did. I mean, I had no idea.

"Wait, you said you've seen some of it? What have you seen?" I asked from two aisles over while arranging the little glass bottles of cheese dip that Frito-Lay sells. I'd once watched a guy buy a bag of tortilla chips and a bottle of the dip and eat half of right in the store. It seemed like it would be awful to eat such a thing a room temperature, but the dude was drunk as hell and seemed to be having the time of his life.

Amber's head popped up and she looked at me and smiled. "Okay, so a friend of mine - a gay friend, admittedly - once showed me a few videos from his Only Fans. He’s a skinny, smooth guy and he was wearing a chastity device and sitting in a sex swing kind of thing while he got fucked by a dude. He also showed me a video of him riding a gigantic dildo, also while in chastity."

It was like she was speaking a foreign language, so I just stared for a few seconds before returning to the business of stocking the shelf with cheese dip.

"You could absolutely have been my friend," she said. "You'd have to shave yourself, though."

"He was shaved?"

"Head to toe, from what I could tell. I guess the fans of that stuff like their guys smooth. He didn't show his face, though. That's a thing on Only Fans. So yeah, you could be that kind of guy. Shave yourself. Put your dick in one of those cages. Film yourself riding a huge dildo or, I don't know, getting fucked by some dude you met on Grindr...you could absolutely make money doing that kind of thing."

It didn't sound like she was serious, but I looked over the aisles to make sure and saw a big smile on her face.

"Yeah, I know," she said. "You're not going to make gay porn to make extra money. Just like I said I'm not going to make straight porn to make extra money."

I laughed. "Point taken. The Vegas thing seems like a real possibility, though. You're hot. You could absolutely make money in Vegas while not having to whore yourself out, or I suppose while having to whore yourself out just a little bit."

"I'm not hot, Milo."

"You're beautiful, Amber, and you could absolutely be a hot girl, in that traditional kind of way, if you wanted to be. I guess that might feel like transforming into an entirely different person for eight hours a day, though, and that might be fucking depressing."

Amber appeared at the end of the snack aisle. She smiled at me, put a hand on her hip, and shifted her weight onto one foot. She twirled her fingers through her hair, tilted her head, and pursed her lips. It was a hot girl pose, like she was doing a thirst trap shoot for social media. Had her outfit been far more suggestive, it would have been the kind of pose that would make for a great pic and would absolutely have netted her followers.

"See, you're a hot girl," I said.

"You're kind, Milo."

I thought of hugging her. I thought of touching her breasts. I thought of listening to her get fucked by the married guy. I thought of her stroking my cock and making me cum. I thought of how I sometimes felt impossibly lonely.

"He offered me money," she said, pulling me from my unhealthy reverie.

"What?"

"The married guy. The last time he begged me to fuck him. He offered me money. A hundred bucks."

"Gross."

She laughed. "Yeah. Gross. I was tempted, though, if I'm being honest. After taxes, I make less than a hundred bucks during a shift here. I could have made that much for ten minutes worth of work."

For some reason, all I could think about was the sound of them having sex in the back room, of Amber urging him to cum, of Amber's beautiful orgasmic moans.

"I did like fucking him," she said. "He did make me cum. I miss it. I don't want his wife to kill me, so I won't be fucking him again, but I was tempted. I mean, getting paid to do something I really enjoyed, it wasn't a terrible offer."

We stared at each other for what felt like ages until someone walked in. It was a young couple. He wore a tattered t-shirt and jeans. She had on a short skirt and a cropped t-shirt. He had his arm around her. They looked sober, but it was always hard to tell.

"Where's the beer?" the guy asked.

I pointed towards the refrigerated section. "Far left."

He nodded, pulled the girl a little closer, and they headed for the beer. They returned with an 18 pack and I rang them up. He reached into his pockets and pulled out a bunch of crumpled bills. He spilled them on the counter and I figured he'd count out the proper amount. He did nothing, though, so I took it upon myself to find the right amount. Then he and his girlfriend headed on their way.

Right as they stepped outside, the guy lifted his girlfriend's skirt and grabbed her ass, which looked to be totally bare. She looked up at him and smiled. Then they were making out. Then she was stroking him through his jeans.

"God damn," Amber said. "Do you think they fuck in the car or wait until they get home?"

"Blowjob in the car. Fuck at home," I replied.

The customers got in their car - it was parked right in front of the store - and started making out again. We watched through the window and clearly saw the girl reach over to free her man's cock. He then looked right at us and smiled as he put a hand on the back of her head and pulled her mouth to his cock.

It was stupid, but I felt jealous of him. Jealous that he was with a girl that was willing to suck his dick in the car. Jealous that he was with a girl that would suck his dick at all.

He backed out of the space and headed home while getting his dick sucked.

"It's too bad we didn't bet something," I said. "I would have won."

"Yes you would have," Amber replied. "What would you have bet?"

I was feeling bold. "Well, you already flashed your bra, so I think I would have bet a quick touch. The bra comes off. My hand goes under your shirt. I get to play a little."

"And what would have offered?" she asked.

"Foot massage?"

She looked surprised. "How interesting. That's a bet I would have taken, actually."

I believed her, and thus I felt a little disappointed.

"Aww, you look so sad, Carl."

I laughed. "I can't help it. You're beautiful and sexy and your breasts are amazing. I blew a chance to feel them again. How could I not be a little bit sad?" I was playing it up, of course, but there was truth in what I'd said.

Amber stared at me for a few seconds and then stepped away. She moved to a spot I happened to know was out of the view of the security cameras. She then reached under her shirt and removed her bra with remarkable speed. It fell to the floor at her feet and she beckoned me closer.

Without saying a word, Amber took my hand and guided it under her shirt. She looked at me and nodded as my fingers traveled towards her breasts. Her finger slipped into my belt loop and she pulled me closer. She looked up a little - I was a bit taller than her - and kissed me right as my hand cupped her breast.

I was the one that moaned first, but how could I not? I was playing with the tits of a beautiful girl while her tongue was in my mouth. When I moaned her hand found my cock through my pants. She stroked me and I got harder. I moaned louder, too.

"Do you want to fuck me, Carl?" she asked.

"Yes," I answered without thinking. I did. Of course I did. Amber was beautiful and sexy.

She kissed my neck. "I like the way you look at me, Carl. I like that it's so obvious that you want me. I like that you're not pushy about it, that you don't make work awful because you want me."

I wasn't sure what was happening. I was massively aroused, though, and since everything that was happening felt good, I wasn't about to walk away from it.

"I miss getting fucked," she said. "I miss having a cock inside me. I even miss getting to suck dick every now and then."

She was still stroking me through my pants and I felt like I was close to cumming.

Then she was on her knees. She unzipped my jeans. My cock came out. It disappeared into her mouth. She took more and more of it into her mouth. Then I was in her throat. I was transported to a place of pure pleasure, of bliss, of sexual delight.

Then it was over. I hadn't cum. Amber stood and kissed me as she tucked my dick back into my pants. She walked away soon after. I turned to see a car at the gas pumps. Someone was walking towards the store. I moved behind the register to hide my erection while Amber put on her bra and returned to stocking magazines.

A haggard-looking woman came in, bought a pack of Marlboros, and lit up while still in the store, leaving the stench of cigarettes behind before walking out and getting in the car at the pumps.

"I think it would be hot if you wore one of those cages, Carl," Amber said from the magazine rack.

"What?"

"A chastity cage. The kind I saw in that video. The kind that restricts a cock from getting hard. I think it would be hot if you wore one. I think it would be a really hot way to tease you. I think it would be hot to text you and demand a picture of your dick in a cage when we're not at work just to make sure you had it on at all times."

"Amber? What are you talking about?"

"I could post those pictures on social media. I could talk about how I own your dick. I could maybe make an Only Fans where I post pictures of your locked up dick and then talk about how I tease you. Hell, maybe I could post pictures of me that would be meant to tease you, only all the freaks out there that fantasize about having their dicks locked up could subscribe and dream of being locked up like you."

I had no response. I mean, none at all. It sounded insane. Amber looked my way and then returned to stacking magazines, at least for a little while.

Fifteen minutes later, she found me as I was mopping the floor on the far side of the store.

"I've done research," she said. "There are couples that make money doing this kind of thing. It's a really huge kink, as it turns out. My friend's gay account got my mind rolling on this sort of thing, but we wouldn't do that because the straight version of the kink actually seems a lot bigger. We could partner on this. We could learn how to do this together. We could make money together. We could have fun doing it. For real."

In truth, the idea of making money - real money - in almost any way was appealing to me. I didn't want to be the kind of person that couldn't get out of their own way, that couldn't do anything other than struggle in their life, but at that point, that's precisely the person that I was.

"So you had a whole plan when you came in here tonight, didn’t you?” I asked.

She smiled, but she didn’t say a word.

“Okay, how would it work?" I asked.

"I don't really know. We'd have to do a lot more research to figure it out. I'm sure most people that do it are faking it to some degree, but I have an instinct that it might be more successful if it felt real, if it felt like you were a guy whose dick was locked up while he was relentlessly teased by his girlfriend."

"My girlfriend?" I asked.

She smiled. "Of a sort. We spend a lot of time together. We've made each other cum a few times. We just made out and it was pretty damn hot. I mean, in a way I act like your girlfriend already, so we could just make it a thing were we try and make some money from it. I mean, it might be a total failure, but we're not showing anyone's face so there's no reason we can't explore it a little bit."

"You're serious about this?" I asked.

She took a deep breath. "I live in a shitty apartment building, Carl, which isn't abnormal for someone my age. Tara and her cheating husband are ten years older than me and they live in the same shitty apartment building. They also show no signs of ever becoming the kind of people that will escape that apartment building or the shitty life they've built together. I liked fucking him, but I don't want to become him or his wife and I don't think you do either."

"I don't."

"Then maybe let's be honest about the fact that we don't have a whole lot going for us other than our willingness to be sexually bold or weird or whatever you want to call it. Let's embrace that and take advantage of the fact that you can make money being that kind of person. Let's take advantage of the fact that I can be hot, that we have eight hours a night to find ways to take pictures and videos to put online, that we might actually be able to do something that will get us both out of this shitty job and into a better kind of life. I mean, what do we have to lose?"

Literally nothing. It might be hard to imagine a life where that's the case, but we had literally nothing to lose.

"Okay, I'm in."

She kissed me and said, "Go get a box of condoms and close the store."

"Seriously?"

Amber nodded and walked towards the back room. I ran across the store, locked the door, and grabbed a box of condoms while making a mental note to make sure the security camera footage from that time forwards was mysteriously erased. I then ran to the back room and found her naked. I stripped, put on a condom, and stepped towards her as she hopped on the cluttered desk that was the centerpiece of the room.

I entered Amber with ease, owing to her wetness and the lubrication of the condom. She grabbed my ass and we kissed as I filled her. I fucked her with pace and power and she moaned into my mouth. I played with her tits. She spanked me a little. We kissed furiously. It was, in truth, remarkably good sex.

"Cum for me, baby!" she cried out, echoing the words she'd uttered to her married lover.

We came together soon after. Amber's legs wrapped tightly around me as I buried my cock inside her and filled the condom with my load. My body shook from the pleasure of the encounter and I felt a wave of relaxation move through me.

"That was really good, Carl," she said softly.

"Agreed," I replied. "Really good."

I pulled out and Amber took the condom off. She held it up and snapped a picture with her phone.

"What's that for?" I asked.

She smiled. "Content, Carl."

I was confused, as you might have guessed.

"Get on your knees for me."

"What?"

"Carl, do as you're told."

I fell to my knees and Amber placed the filled end of the condom in my mouth. She took a picture before I knew what was happening.

"I thought you said no faces?"

She turned her phone around to show me that the picture showed nothing more than my lips and chin with the condom resting in my mouth. "Who would want to see a picture like that?"

"Freaks," she replied. "The good kind of freaks, though. The kind that are going to love us. The kind that are going to happily join an Only Fans to follow our adventures. Now open up."

I knew what was coming, but I opened up anyway. She poured the cum into my mouth and took another picture, this one with the used condom resting on my lower lip and the cum pooled on my tongue. It tasted awful, but it wasn't my first time tasting cum.

"Swallow," she said.

I swallowed and opened my mouth for another picture.

"Alright. We need to get back to work."

We got dressed and I followed her out. We opened the store back up and it looked as though we hadn't missed a customer.

"What's...how are those pictures part of a chastity thing?" I asked.

She slid her phone into her back pocket and flashed a smile. "Well, it's not just a chastity thing. It's a control thing. It's a kink thing. I may not use those pictures, but you're going to have to earn your orgasms from here on out, and in this fantasy world that these guys are into, one of the ways you earn the orgasm is to promise that you'll eat your cum afterwards."

"So I'm going to be eating my cum from here on out?" I asked.

"You are, Carl. For content. For the chance to get the fuck out of here by making real money. For the chance at a future that doesn't fucking suck. And maybe, I suppose, because you really do want to earn your orgasms. I mean, you liked fucking me, didn't you?"

"I loved fucking you," I admitted.

"Well, Carl, if you want to experience that pleasure again, you'll have to earn it."

"For the content?"

"Sure, but also because I think we both know I could fuck hotter guys than you, don't we?"

It was a little cruel of her to say, but it wasn't untrue. "True."

"You can't earn it by showering me with gifts. You can't earn it by being some strong, protective guy - good hugs notwithstanding - but you can earn my pussy by being a kinky freak that tries to make a go of earning Only Fans cash with me. That would be well worth letting you into my pussy or my mouth on occasion, especially since you're a pretty good lay, Carl."

I was pretty sure I was getting in over my head, that despite being pretty close to my age that Amber was far more worldly and wise - in certain ways - than I was, but the dual allures of having sex with her and making enough money to escape the shittiness of my life were more than enough to motivate me to jump in with both feet and hope for the best.

"I'm in," I said. "I'm all in. Let's do this."

Things got pretty crazy after that fateful decision. It's been a hell of a ride, though, and I can't wait to tell you all about it.