I Clean Myself And The Store

After ten minutes on the cold, hard floor, face covered in my bully’s jizz, my heartbeat finally slowed enough for me to rise to my feet. I headed for the employee bathroom to wash up.

The girl in the mirror stopped me.

If I hadn’t known better, I would’ve assumed she’d just stepped out of a bukkake. Drying cum covered every inch of her face; a few wet beads dripped from her bright red cheeks onto her stained shirt.

Cum had made its way into her short hair, already damp with sweat. Her eyes were wide with disbelief.

That was me.

The overwhelming shame choked half a sob out of me. I’d given that douchebag everything he wanted and more, all for the promise of an orgasm.

I put my head in the sink, turned the faucet on, and let the water run over me. Scrubbing hard with my hand, the cum slowly peeled off, swirling down the drain.

He’d planned this from the beginning, ever since I tried to make that deal. I should’ve known he’d manage a new way to humiliate me.

I dried off with a handful of paper towels. In the supply closet, I changed into the baggy clothes I’d brought and rolled the bucket and mop into the store.

Even as my regret replayed my lowest moments, me slobbering on his cock, him cumming down my throat, my **** begging for his touch, I also remembered the orgasm he’d given me.

It wasn’t just his cum I was mopping off the floor.

My cleaning done, I bundled up my semen-covered clothes, locked the store, and drove home.

I thought of Ashley on the way. I couldn’t get her pleasure-filled convulsions out of my head. Dante could make a woman feel incredible when he wanted to.

I tossed and turned in my bed all night, still horny, still unable to reconcile my past feelings for my bully with the way he made me feel.