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“Hands on the desk, boy. Bare that ass, get ready for a good pounding.”
Before moving up behind me, he reached over to the door, flicking the lock into place. Guess there’d be no chance of an interruption this time. He’d learnt his lesson after Ty caught us a few weeks ago. Poor guy hadn’t known where to put himself, and the pitying looks I’d got from him since were hard to take.
I did as Bernie asked, bracing myself on the desk and pushing the papers away so I didn’t slip. There was never any prep, and a good bit of spit did as lube as far as Bernie was concerned. As soon as he’d mentioned seeing me in his office later, I’d nipped to the men’s room before coming here, lubing myself up so it wouldn’t hurt as much. As for a burn, it was nothing I hadn’t endured before. He was below average in size. That, at least, was a blessing.
I held my breath as his condom-covered cock inched its way in, the latex chafing. I winced. Fuck, that was going to hurt tomorrow. I’d dropped the sachet on the floor earlier in my rush to get the job done and hadn’t applied as much as I’d wanted. My own fault, really, but I shouldn’t complain. I was the one allowing him to use me like this.
I rested my forehead on the desk and allowed him to push into me before he drew out again, slamming his hard cock back inside, banging my bony hips against the desk. I bet I’d have fucking bruises tomorrow too.
Thankfully, he usually didn’t last long, a few minutes at most, but tonight, the whiskey prolonged the ordeal. Ten minutes later, he was still going, panting and grunting behind me, his sweat dripping onto my bare back.
“Fuck,” he shouted, pulling out abruptly, and I hissed out in pain. That fucking hurt. I turned around to see him standing there, the condom now discarded in the bin as he frantically tried to finish himself off. It wasn’t working, and the more he tried, the softer his dick got. Not knowing what to do, I slowly pulled up my trousers, staying well out of his way.
He stopped and looked over at me, a cruel look on his face.
“Get the fuck out of here, and don’t you dare tell anyone what happened in here tonight. You’ll keep your mouth shut if you want to keep your job and your skanky sister out of prison.”
He turned away from me, and I could hear him fastening his belt, huffing and puffing as he did so.
“I said, ‘Get out’. Now fuck off!” Anger dripped from his voice.
I didn’t need to be told twice. I turned the lock on the door, banging it open, and ran down the corridor to the staff room, collecting my coat and bag hanging from my hook.
Pushing my arms into the sleeves of my jacket, I shouted a hurried goodbye to Ty and ran into the cool night air, the stale smell of Bernie lingering on my clothes. I was desperate to take them off, but that would need to wait. I unchained my bike from the fence around the side of the club and pedalled home as fast as I could. When I pulled up outside our flat, the sound of loud music filled the street.
Jesus, would she never learn?
