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“I’m not sure Mrs. Standish will allow me to work all hours on a Friday and Saturday night.”
He waves a hand at me. “Don’t worry about it. I’m good friends with Jim. I’ve had some of their kids work here before. I’ll smooth it over with them, and as long as you go to church with them on Sunday, they won’t care.”
“Oh, thank goodness, because I really want the job.”
His eyes narrow, and I can practically see the wheels turning in his head. “Well, good. Get over here and suck Anders’s cock for him. He’s been uptight and snappy this evening, and no one likes that in their bartenders. Let’s get him right for when the patrons arrive.”
Fuck my life. Seriously? Another encounter with a teammate?
Matt mistakes my pause for reluctance. “Or do you not want the job?”
“Fuck, man, do you think I can’t get a girl to suck my dick by myself?” Anders grumbles, and Matt shrugs.
“You were talking about wanting more responsibility. How about you follow my instructions, and we can see about giving you another position?”
That conversation is laced with hidden meaning, and I can see Anders comprehend it as he reaches for his belt.
“Well, sure, who am I to argue about getting blown by a pretty girl.” The sound of his belt buckle clanking is almost deafening to my ears as I bite my lip, feigning hesitation. I mean, I’m not all that thrilled about blowing my teammate, but I guess it could be worse. I could have been told to blow Matt himself.
“Well, come on. If you want the job, then you have to blow Anders or you can fuck off and find a job somewhere else, and I’ll tell Martha that you propositioned me to get the position.”
Holy fuck. How did it go from me applying for a job to him blackmailing me for it? What the fuck? I’m almost confused at the turn in conversation, but I drop my bag and move around to the business side of the bar. I look back at the door and raise an eyebrow. “What happens if someone comes in?” I ask, feigning nerves.
“No one should see you down on your knees, but you better make it a good one.” Matt leans back on fridges that sit under the shelves of bottles, so I guess he’s going to watch then.
Anders frowns. “What are you doing, man? You want to get a look at my dick?” he growls, and Matt doesn’t even flinch.
“Sure, why not? I want to see what her lips look like wrapped around it. I bet she’ll look so pretty at your feet. I bet she’ll look even prettier choking on your cock. Make sure you make her cry. I love seeing tears run down their faces.” Matt’s tone is all monosyllabic, and I know serial killers who put more emotions into their voices. Hello, psychopath.
I can’t put it off any longer. I get down on my knees, wincing as the mat on the ground digs into my bare skin, but I reach up and draw down the zipper on Anders’s jeans and reach in. My eyes widen when I wrap my hand around his junk. It’s fat, thick, and hard, and I’m worried I’m going to have trouble actually giving him a decent blow job. I prefer not to suck my marks’ dicks since I find oral sex a little too intimate. That’s not to say I won’t do it, but I prefer to have sex than be up close and personal with my mouth.
Thankfully, Anders showers regularly, because his dick is not only long and thick, but clean. I run my tongue up and down his length before drawing back and spitting on it, getting it nice and wet. He grunts and reaches for my hair, pulling out the ponytail holder and letting it fall around my face. I feel a wave of gratitude as it hides me from Matt. I slowly slide his dick into my mouth, breathing through my nose. I bob on it, hollowing my cheeks and sucking hard before popping off again.
“Pull her hair back so I can see,” Matt demands, and Anders pauses before sighing and threading his fingers through my hair. I look up at him, and his eyes are filled with a mixture of apology, regret, and no small amount of heat. Although he doesn’t want it this way, he’s still fucking enjoying it, so I may as well make the most of it and give him the best damn blow job he’s ever had.
I reach up and cup his balls, rolling them around in my hand as I try to take his dick all the way down. It’s long, and I have to work for it, but my nose finally nuzzles against his pubic bone.
“Holy fuck, look at that bitch. Hold her there. Yes, that’s it.” Matt sounds excited as my eyes start to tear up and I try to pull away.
Anders’s hands are gentle in my hair, but he keeps me in place a little longer before he allows me to pull back. I gasp for air when he finally lets go and I pull off.
“Oh yes, so pretty with those bruises and her tears. I think she’s just perfect for the position. Don’t you, Anders?” Matt taunts, and Anders grunts.
“Well, let’s see if she’ll swallow first.” Anders’s voice is husky and low as he pulls me back onto his dick.
“She fucking better if she knows what’s good for her, but I bet those creamy tits would look fucking spectacular painted with our cum too.”
My eyes widen as Matt reaches for his own zipper and pulls it down. Anders yanks on my hair and directs me back to his cock, and I go to town, praying that if I finish him then I won’t have to do Matt next. I swallow down Anders’s hot cock and get into a good rhythm that I know will have him coming. A voice on the other side of the bar startles me, but he just holds me in place.
“Hey, man, what can I get you?” Matt moves away from us. I guess he tucked his dick back in, but Anders doesn’t let me pull away.
I feel his balls tighten in my hand, and all his muscles stiffen as he taps a finger against my head, warning me about what’s coming—literally. My mouth floods with his cum, and I swallow it down as quickly as I can, but a little dribbles out the side. Finally, he stops and pulls away, staring down at me with a look I can’t decipher. I put a finger up to the crease of my lips and wipe away the bit of cum that trickled out, then I stick my finger into my mouth and suck it before winking at Anders, letting him know I’m fine.
His eyes widen before he growls, then he shoves his dick into his pants, zips them up, and refastens his belt before yanking me to my feet. I’m slightly dizzy from the rushed movement, and it takes me a moment to get my bearings. Matt is down at the other end, and as his customer heads to a booth, he returns to us.
“Did she swallow?” he demands, looking between us, and a sleazy smile stretches across Anders’s lips.
“Like an alcoholic on a bender.”
