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Kat’s eighty percent sure her deadbeat manager is having a breakdown. He’s hammering at her front door, fist beating against the wood like he’s trying to break it down, and Kat knows that everyone must be looking at him, all her neighbours murmuring about the crazy alcoholic man. She’s not even due to work today, it’s a Sunday, and that means lazy mornings, and pot, and nobody interrupting her and Bobby.
“Don’t answer him,” Kat hisses, and Bobby moans underneath her.
Not like he can talk anyway. He’s biting down on the pillow, her cock buried deep inside him, and he’s reached the point of getting fucked where he stops making any sense at all and just starts babbling nonsense. It’s a state she knows very well.
“Kat!” Clark yells from outside. “Kat, I need you to do something! You and Bobby – both of you!”
Kat doesn’t think anything is so important that it warrants coming to her house on her day off. She’s spent her morning edging Bobby until he was begging for her cock, and now she’s finally got him on his hands and knees underneath her, cock leaking stickily against the sheets. She adjusts the position of her hips, punching a moan out of Bobby, and that’s sweeter than any overtime.
“Please!” Clark begs. “Kat, please I haven’t got anyone else.”
Kat knows that for a fact. His wife, a really hot redhead who used to come to the store in between her college classes, left him, and now Clark only talks to Kat, or Bobby, or the occasional customer who accidentally wanders in. Kat knows she should feel bad about it, should put more effort in, should listen to his delusional architect rambling. He’s probably lonely. Kat knows what it’s like to be lonely.
“K-at,” Bobby says, all high pitched and whimpering, “Please don’t open the door, please-please-please, I need you to fuck me-“
“You’re so fucking stupid when you’re horny,” Kat tells him, and forces her fingers into his mouth.
He sucks on them gratefully, and she already knows she’s going to use her mouth later, gonna spread her legs and let him bury his face between them. He’s not the best at giving head, but he makes up for it with enthusiasm, spit drooling down his chin as she grips his hair. They’ve figured out all the spots in the Empire they can fuck without being seen, and it’s a good way to waste the day with no customers.
“I’ll pay overtime!” Clark yells, and Kat snaps her hips forward. “I’ll pay you double – triple if you want!”
“Please,” Bobby moans, and she grips him by the waist, digging her fingers until her knuckles go white. She fucks him in quick hard strokes, exactly the way he wants it, and he dissolves into a steady stream of yes-yes-yes, like the girls in the porn her stepdad used to watch, only better, only hotter, all for her.
“You don’t want me to answer him?” She teases. “You don’t want me to stop fucking you and let him in?”
“Don’t let him in, please,” Bobby begs, like Kat’s actually going to pull out and stumble to the front door, naked and sweaty. “Don’t stop, please don’t fucking stop.”
“You want my cock that badly?”
“Please,” Bobby says, “Please, I need it, please honey.”
God he’s so hot. Sometimes she just ties him up in bed and looks at him, studies his sharp cheekbones, and the birth mark on his ribs, and the dark happy trail leading from his belly button down to his cock. She likes tracing it with her tongue, breathing in the scent of him, and Bobby lets her, staring at Kat like she’s the best thing he’s ever seen.
“Are you gonna cum for me sweetheart?” Kat asks, over the sound of Clark yelling nonsense, over the sound of Bobby whimpering.
“Please,” Bobby says, “I – fuck I’m gonna – shit-“
“C’mon baby,” She says, and slides her hand into his hair to pull his head back, and he gasps up at the ceiling, eyes watering. He’s growing out his hair especially for her, she’s gonna have him in pigtails in no time. “I want to feel you.”
“Fuck,” Bobby says, and Kat fucks him harder, hitting the spot inside of him that makes him see stars. He’d never even fingered himself before he met Kat, and now he’s practically made for her. Kat knows Bobby’s body better than her own at this point, and she knows what makes him feel good, and she knows what has him squirming on her sheets, crying out her name.
“Please,” She says, voice low with want. “Please, I wanna see you cum, I need it, c’mon baby.”
“Kat,” Bobby chokes out, and cums in hot white spurts over the sheets, so desperately pathetic that her heart skips a beat.
Bobby collapses forward, panting, and Kat laughs, crowding his body with her own, kissing at his freckled shoulders. Bobby makes a weak whiny noise, and she thrusts into him again just to hear him stutter, skin turning pink with embarrassment. He’ll probably be able to go again in half an hour, and Kat’s going to make the most of it. God Bless American Weed.
“You’re so good for me,” She whispers, and nips at the skin on the back of his neck like a dog. “You’re such a good boy, y’know that?”
“Fuck Kat,” He breathes, and twists his head just enough that she can plant a kiss on his flushed cheek. “God, I think you broke me.”
“Not yet,” Kat says, and hopes Clark will fuck off soon. The moment he’s gone, she’s gonna see how loud Bobby can really be, gonna make him sob with how good he’s gonna feel. She wants to lean against the headboard and watch him bounce on it. “I still need you to make me cum.”
“I can do that,” Bobby says eagerly, and Kat wonders how she ever got so lucky.