My husband, Carl, lost his job this spring, and for a few months we were really struggling to make ends meet.
One day I was in the supermarket without even enough money to buy food for dinner, so I made the unfortunate decision to shoplift some. I had never done that before, so I wasn’t very good at it, and of course I got caught. A security guard escorted me to his office and called in the store manager.
Well, I didn’t want to go to jail, so I figured there was only one way I could get out of this. But first I tried playing on their pity. I started to cry, and between sobs I told them all about the hard times we were having at home, and about my three hungry children. I said that my husband would never understand, and that I would do anything if they wouldn’t call the police.
The manager seemed sympathetic, and when I noticed him checking me over I knew I would be all right. I’m five-feet-five and about 130 pounds, with 36C breasts and long brown hair. I was wearing a denim skirt with tan hose and a white blouse, and when I crossed my legs I was careless about letting my skirt ride up over my thighs. I stopped crying and told them again, more meaningfully this time, that I would do anything. Anything.
The manager looked at the guard, and then asked me if I was serious about doing anything. Without hesitation I said yes, I was, and to show them just what I meant I began to unbutton my blouse.
The manager nodded at the guard, who went over to the door and latched it. The manager got up and moved behind my chair. He started rubbing my shoulders, saying, “There, there, it’s going to be okay. Just relax.” I was relaxed enough, and was even starting to get excited, especially when his hands slid down to my breasts and gave them a squeeze. When I offered no resistance, he began unbuttoning my blouse, taking up where I had left off. He pushed down the straps of my bra, releasing my breasts. Then he moved around in front of me and knelt down so he could suck them. Meanwhile the guard was standing there watching.
Something about the situation was getting to me. I was strangely aroused by being half naked in front of two strange men, and the sensation of the manager’s mouth sucking on my nipples was making me squirm in my chair. Suddenly I felt his hand sliding under my skirt. I moaned as it crept up my thigh, and let my legs fall open slightly. As soon as he reached my wet panties he began rubbing my pussy through them. The feeling was unbelievable.
After a minute of that he stopped sucking my breasts and pushed my skirt up to my waist, then hooked his fingers into the waistband of my panties and slowly pulled them down my legs and off my feet. He bent down and kissed my upper thighs, then worked his way to my pussy. As I moaned and gasped, he pulled me forward so that my ass was right on the edge of the chair, and then proceeded to suck and lick hungrily at my soaked snatch.
I felt myself coming to a climax, and I couldn’t stop it. My head fell back, rolling from side to side as I cried out with passion. My eyes met those of the guard, looking down at me as I came, and his watching me made me come harder.
The manager stood up then and dropped his pants, revealing his hard cock. He rubbed it all over my moaning mouth, and I willingly opened up for him as he slid it in. His cock was small enough so that I could take it all in without gagging, and I sucked him hard as he fucked my face. He didn’t last long, and I swallowed his sperm as he shot it deep into my throat.
When he pulled out of my mouth the security guard stepped forward. I smiled at him, and he told me to stand and lean over his desk. As I did so I heard his pants drop, and the next thing I knew he was entering my pussy from behind. I hadn’t seen his cock, but it felt enormous inside me. It took him a while to work it all the way in, and I felt very full when he had finally done it. Grasping my hips, he began to fuck me hard, and the feeling was really thrilling. He had stamina, too, and I came twice more before he stiffened and shot his jism inside me.
He then pulled out of me and pulled up his pants. I realized that he hadn’t said a word to me since he had called in the manager. I got dressed with his sperm still running down the insides of my thighs.
The manager then told me to go home and not to let him catch me shoplifting in his store again. I grinned at him and asked him if he was sure that was what he wanted. He grinned back. “Well,” he said. “On the other hand…”
I didn’t tell my husband any of this, of course, and soon after that he got a well-paying job, so I didn’t have to think about shoplifting any more. But occasionally, when I’m back in that store, I feel tempted to do it anyway.
—G.F., Phoenix, Arizona