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Keep reading to get a sneak peek at my next erotic novella, the first in a new series that’s all about single mothers and their workplace fantasies.
Sneak Peek at Checking Him Out (a Single Mom’s Erotic Fantasy)
Tuesday mornings suck.
The only thing worse than a mad rush, is a maddeningly slow day and I was struggling to keep my eyes open. I’d just finished working my regular shift, the graveyard, which was always slow.
My night consisted of three types of customers: shift workers on break, cops, and drunks. Those are the only kinds of people who stop by a grocery store at two o’clock in the morning.
I’d barely made it to my seven o’clock stop time when Pam pulled her usual shit. She waited until a few minutes before I was supposed to clock out to say she really needed me to work a double.
I hated working doubles. My fingers were sore, my eyelids were heavy, and my brain felt like it was ready to explode.
If I have to hear the store’s jingle one more time, “Shop at Savory Saves and make your savory savings shine,” I think I’ll walk over to the giant rock hard salamis and bash in my own forehead.
But Pam knew I’d accept the extra shift. I always did. It’s what a single mother does, especially so close to the start of the school year. You should have seen the list of shit the first grade teacher was expecting my six-year-old to bring to school that year.
Since when did three different sizes of Tupperware containers and a disposable camera become necessary school supplies? It was insane.
So Jonathan would have to stay home with my mother AGAIN. She’d be fine with it, but I really missed my boy. He’s all I had since my husband left me for that nineteen year old twerp.
How can I, at thirty-five years old, compete with a nineteen year old?
It was the question that plagued my mind at least once during every work night. At the start of the evening, when the young blonde bombshells were shoving six packs of beer and bottles of rum into their boyfriends’ shopping carts, some of which were twice their age, it dragged me down so much I literally felt tears threatening to pour from my eyes.
Then I reminded myself that I didn’t need a man like that. I didn’t need someone who was willing to abandon my child and me just for a new and hotter piece of pussy.
That’s what it was you know. The sex. First it would have been the
curiosity of it. My douchebag of a husband had seen her in his wine shop a few times, sauntering around in short shorts or super tight jeans and wondered how it would feel to shove his cock inside of her.
He wondered what kind of sounds she would make and just how flexible those legs were. He wondered what it would feel like to have her lips moving up and down along his shaft.
And that would all be before she actually said a word to him. Trust me, I work with enough males to know exactly how their minds work. Those fantasies of his would be nothing more than nasty thoughts…until she gave him the “all clear” signal, which would probably be something as simple as leaning forward at the cash register to show off her cleavage.
Or maybe she’d passed him her phone number and asked him to call her whenever he got in something really good. You know…a bottle of wine she meant.
Then, suddenly, she was riding his cock every single afternoon.
That’s how it went down, I’m sure of it. And where was I during this time? I was picking our son up from kindergarten or maybe I was making him mac and cheese with hot dogs chopped up in it the way he likes it.
What I wasn’t doing was finding my own young stud to fuck.
That’s what I should have been doing, right? Well not me, I’m Gina the dependable.
Gina the great mom.
Gina the nice lady next door who always lends a cup of sugar.
Gina who doesn’t mind that your music is a little too loud.
Gina who will gladly accept a double shift.
Never Gina the cock riding whore.
