Agree to help the store

The word 'okay' barely leaves your lips before Alex is moving, a whirlwind of frantic energy. 'Fuck yes,' they breathe, grabbing your wrist with surprising strength. Their fingers are hot, almost burning, as they pull you out of the clutter of the storage room and down the short, dim hallway towards the private viewing booth. The air shifts instantly – the fluorescent buzz of the main store replaced by the thick, muffled silence of the soundproofed room. It smells faintly of stale popcorn and disinfectant, mixed with something sharper, like ozone from old electronics. Alex shoves the door open with their hip, dragging you inside. The room is small, barely bigger than a closet, dominated by a worn leather couch facing a blank TV screen. A single, dim overhead bulb casts long shadows.

Alex lets go of your wrist only to fumble with a small digital camcorder perched on a wobbly tripod in the corner. 'Knew this thing would come in handy someday,' they mutter, their voice tight with a mix of excitement and nerves you didn't expect. Their fingers tremble slightly as they flip the screen open and hit record. The little red light blinks on, an unblinking eye pointed directly at the couch. Alex turns back to you, their earlier cockiness dialed up to eleven, but you see the slight flush creeping up their neck, the way their Adam's apple bobs as they swallow hard. 'Right,' they say, stepping closer, crowding you back towards the couch. 'No script, no bullshit. Just... feel it, yeah? Show that fire.' Their gaze drops to your mouth, lingering, heavy.

Before you can overthink it, Alex closes the gap. Their mouth crashes down onto yours, not gentle, not asking. It's hungry, demanding. Their tongue pushes past your lips, hot and insistent, tasting faintly of mint gum and adrenaline. One hand fists in your hair, pulling your head back just enough to deepen the kiss, while the other slides down your spine, rough fingertips scraping the thin cotton of your t-shirt. A low groan vibrates in their chest, pressed tight against yours. Your own body responds before your brain can catch up – a startled gasp swallowed by their mouth, your hands flying up to grip their shoulders, not pushing away, but holding on. The heat from their skin seeps through their shirt, intense. You feel the hard lines of their body, the lean muscle beneath the fabric. Their hips grind forward, pressing the unmistakable, rigid bulge in their jeans against your thigh. 'Fuck, Flora,' they rasp, breaking the kiss just enough to pant hot breath against your lips. 'You taste... better than I imagined.'

Their hands drop to the hem of your t-shirt, pulling it up roughly. Cool air hits your stomach, then your ribs as the fabric bunches under your armpits. Alex doesn't hesitate. Their mouth leaves yours to trail wet, open-mouthed kisses down your jaw, your neck, sucking hard enough to leave a mark just above your collarbone. A sharp gasp escapes you, followed by a moan you didn't intend as their teeth graze the sensitive skin. Their hand snakes under your bra, calloused palm scraping over your nipple, already stiff and aching. You arch into the touch, a whimper catching in your throat. Alex chuckles, the sound dark and satisfied against your skin. 'Yeah, that's it. Show me how much you need this.' Their other hand works at the button of your jeans, popping it open with practiced ease. The zipper rasps down, loud in the quiet room. Their fingers slip past the waistband of your panties, sliding down through the wetness that's soaked the thin fabric. 'Jesus, you're drenched,' they murmur, pressing two fingers flat against your clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles. Sparks explode behind your eyes, your hips bucking involuntarily against their hand. 'Look at the camera, baby,' Alex growls, their own breathing ragged. 'Let it see how fucking hot you get for me.'

They sink to their knees on the thin carpet, their eyes locked on yours, bright and predatory. With deliberate slowness, they hook their fingers into the sides of your jeans and panties and yank them down to your ankles. You step out shakily. Alex stares up at you, naked from the waist down under the dim bulb, your skin prickling. The red light of the camera feels like a physical touch. Alex leans forward, their breath hot on your inner thigh. 'Gonna make you scream for that camera,' they promise, their voice rough with want. Their tongue darts out, a long, slow lick up your slit, gathering your wetness. You cry out, your fingers tangling in their messy black hair as they bury their face between your legs, tongue swirling hard around your clit. The sensation is electric, overwhelming, wiping away every coherent thought except the **** need for more. Your knees tremble. Alex hums against you, the vibration sending shockwaves through your core. Their hands grip your hips, holding you steady as they devour you, relentless. The camera watches. You forget to look at it, your head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut, lost in the raw, wet heat of their mouth.