Using the Favorite Customer
Cassie had been smiling at him for four months.
The 24 year old freelance graphic designer did not come to Vargas Mart for the chips.
She came for Adam, the 22 year old night clerk who always looked at her like he already knew the shape of her mouth.
He never said much. Black T-shirt stretched over stock-room shoulders, hair still damp from whatever he did before his shift, a thin scar across one knuckle.
He slid her iced coffee across the counter and she lingered half a second too long every time.
Tonight the store was empty except for the hum of the cooler and the tick of the clock over the lottery case. 11:47. Cassie set her usual on the counter and watched his hands.
“Same as always,” Adam said.
“Yeah.” Her voice came out lower than she meant. She took the receipt, turned it over, and wrote her number in the blank space under the store name. She slid it back. “In case you ever get off before midnight. Only if you want to.”
Adam looked at the paper. Then at her. The corner of his mouth moved.
“I want to. Give me twenty minutes. You can still leave. I’ll text either way.”
She was in the parking lot with the engine off when her phone lit up.
Back alley if you still want this. No pressure. Don’t leave if you don’t want to.
Cassie sat there long enough to feel the choice land in her chest, then got out.
The alley behind the store smelled like wet cardboard and old fryer oil.
A single bulb hung over the metal door. Adam came out in the same black shirt, apron gone, keys in his fist.
He locked the door behind him and stopped a full step away.
“You sure?” he asked.
“Yes.” Cassie closed the distance herself. “I’ve been sure.”
He backed her into the brick only after she reached for him.
The kiss was not careful. His mouth opened on hers, tongue sliding in like he had been thinking about it every time she said thank you and walked out.
Cassie made a sound into it and pulled his shirt.
His hands went under the hem only when she arched into him, palms hot on her ribs, thumbs brushing the underside of her bra.
She could feel his cock already hard against her hip through his jeans.
“Been watching you buy the same fucking chips for months,” he said against her mouth. “You smell like coffee and that cheap vanilla you wear. Tell me to stop and I stop.”
“Don’t stop.” Her fingers hooked in his belt loop. “Take me upstairs.”
The stairs were narrow and dark. His apartment sat over the store like an afterthought: one room, kitchenette, a window that faced the empty street.
It smelled like laundry soap and the coffee he must have made before his shift.
Adam shut the door with his heel and waited until Cassie pulled him in by the front of his shirt.
He pulled her shirt over her head after she lifted her arms.
She stood there in a plain black bra while he looked at her like he was asking permission with his eyes.
She nodded. He didn’t bother with the clasp.
He shoved the cups down, bent, and sucked her left nipple into his mouth.
Wet heat. The scrape of his teeth. She grabbed his hair and held him there.
“Fuck—”
He switched sides, sucking harder, one hand hovering at the button of her jeans until she said, “Yes. Do it.” He worked them open. His fingers slid under the waistband of her underwear and found her soaked. He groaned against her tit.
“Christ, Cassie. You’re wet from the alley.”
“I was wet in the store. Keep going.”
He dragged two fingers through her slit, slow, collecting it, then pushed them into her only after she rolled her hips onto his hand.
Cassie’s head hit the door. He fucked her with those fingers right there, standing, his mouth still on her nipple, the wet sound loud in the quiet apartment.
She could smell herself. She could hear the cooler humming downstairs through the floor.
Adam pulled his fingers out, looked at them, and put them in his mouth.
Cassie watched him do it.
“Kitchen,” he said. “I want the light on. You good?”
“I’m good.”
He lifted her by the ass and set her on the counter.
The laminate was cold under her thighs. He yanked her jeans and underwear the rest of the way off after she lifted her hips to help.
Cassie sat there naked from the waist down, bra shoved under her tits, while Adam pushed her knees apart and waited.
“Hold the edge if you want this.”
She held the edge. “I want this.”
He went to his knees.
The first lick was flat and slow, from her hole up to her clit.
Cassie’s thighs jumped. He did it again, then sealed his mouth over her and sucked.
No teasing. He ate her like he had a clock and no intention of stopping unless she told him to.
His tongue worked her clit in tight circles, then longer strokes, then he pushed it inside her and fucked her with it while his nose pressed her clit.
She could hear how wet she was. She could feel his stubble scraping her inner thighs.
“Adam—”
He hummed into her. The vibration went straight through her. One of his hands held her open. The other reached up and pinched her nipple, rolling it while he licked. Cassie’s hips tried to chase his mouth. He pinned them down with a forearm only after she grabbed his hair and pulled him closer.
She came the first time with her heels digging into his back and a broken sound she didn’t recognize. Her pussy clenched on nothing. He didn’t pull away. He licked her through it, slower, messy, until she twitched and said, “Okay. Okay, up.”
He stood, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and pulled his shirt off.
Cassie looked at him. Shoulders from lifting cases. A line of dark hair down his stomach. He unbuttoned his jeans and shoved them down enough to get his cock out only after she reached for the button herself. Thick. Already leaking. He wrapped her hand around it.
“You want this in your mouth?”
“Yes.”
She slid off the counter and went to her knees on the kitchen linoleum. The floor was sticky. She didn’t care. She licked the head first, tasting salt, then took him into her mouth and went down until he hit her throat. Adam’s hand landed in her hair. He didn’t shove. He just held.
“That’s it. Look at me while you do it. Tap my thigh if it’s too much.”
Cassie looked up. His cock stretched her lips.
Spit ran down her chin. She hollowed her cheeks and sucked, messy on purpose, the wet sound filling the little kitchen.
He throbbed on her tongue. She took him deeper and gagged once, spit stringing from her mouth to his shaft when she pulled back. She went right back down.
“Fuck, your mouth.” His voice had gone rough. “I thought about this every night you left. You walking out with those chips and me standing there with a hard-on behind the counter.”
She pulled off long enough to say, “You should’ve said something.”
“I’m saying it now. You can still walk.”
“I’m not walking.”
He let her suck him another minute, then hauled her up by the arms when she tugged his wrist and kissed her, tasting himself and her together. Cassie felt his cock smear wet against her stomach.
“Fridge,” he said. “Yes?”
“Yes.”
He walked her backward until the cold metal hit her spine. He hooked one of her legs around his hip, lined up, and waited with the head of his cock notched against her.
“Cassie.”
“Put it in.”
He pushed into her in one slow, thick slide.
Cassie’s mouth opened on a sound that wasn’t a word. He was big enough that the stretch burned sweet. He bottomed out and stayed there, forehead against hers, breathing hard.
“You feel that?” he said. “That’s four months. Tell me if you need me to pull out.”
“Don’t you dare pull out.”
He fucked her standing against the fridge. Slow at first. Deep. Every thrust made the bottles inside rattle. Cassie held onto his shoulders and took it, her other leg shaking. He reached between them and rubbed her clit with his thumb in time with his hips.
“You’re going to cum on my cock before we even make it to the couch. That okay with you?”
“Do it.”
She already was. The second orgasm hit sharper than the first, her pussy clamping down on him while he kept stroking into her, never speeding up, never pulling out. A magnet clattered to the floor. Adam’s jaw was tight. He was still hard, still moving, still not close.
Cassie dragged her nails down his back.
“Don’t you dare stop.”
“Not planning on it.” He kissed her again, filthy and open, and rolled his hips so the head of his cock dragged right where she needed it. “We’ve got the whole night if you want it. Store doesn’t open till six. You say the word and we slow down, we stop, we move. Your call.”
“Keep going.”
Downstairs the cooler kicked on again. Outside, a car passed the empty street. Adam kept fucking her against the fridge like he had all the time in the world and no intention of wasting any of it unless she asked.
Cassie’s phone buzzed once in the pile of her clothes and she did not look.
Adam stayed inside her against the fridge until the aftershocks faded.
Cassie breathed against his mouth. His cock flexed once, still thick, still buried. A bottle in the door settled with a soft clink. He did not thrust. He waited.
“I want you back on the counter,” he said. “Light on. I’m going to lick you until you tell me to stop, then I want your mouth again, then the couch. You want any of that different?”
“No. That order.”
He eased out of her. The wet sound made her shiver. Cassie felt herself drip down her thigh. Adam looked at it, then lifted her and set her on the laminate. She spread her knees. He stood between them and wrapped a hand around his cock, smearing what she had left on him.
“Say it if you change your mind.”
“I won’t.”
He went to his knees.
This time he started lower. He licked the inside of her thigh first, following the wet trail up, then dragged his tongue through her slit without touching her clit.
Cassie gripped the edge of the counter. The kitchen light put everything in hard relief: the shine on his mouth, the way her stomach jumped, the pulse in his cock where it stood against his stomach.
He pushed two fingers into her and licked around them, messy, unhurried.