by Joanna Angel
As I was pondering whether my own unicorn standing was a one-time thing or not, my vibrator went off. She kept it at a slow, steady pace where I felt moderately aroused but still in control of my senses. She must have known I was working and didn’t want to distract me too much. Was this a sign that she was coming? As I walked around the party with my pussy buzzing, I felt like I was on a cool kind of drug, one that made you tingly but kept you functional.
Speaking of drugs, Sandy brought out a cardboard box full of little brown bottles with little white caps and placed it on the table. She took one out, unscrewed the cap, and inhaled it.
“If anyone wants one—let me know! Just twenty dollars!” Sandy held up the tiny glass bottle and put it on display like it was some kind of expensive champagne. Then she whiffed about three more.
“What is that?” I said.
“If anyone asks—it’s VCR cleaner.” She winked at me.
“But I’m asking,” I said.
A few of the couples bought these little bottles from her. Was I supposed to ring them up? Was I supposed to give them receipts? Did all these people actually clean their VCRs? Did people actually have VCRs anymore? There was definitely something I was missing here, but I was happily enjoying the vibration in my panties sporadically surprising my G-spot with glee, so I didn’t care that much.
I was leaning against the counter, surveying the party kingdom when Chuck and Cherise came in. They arrived fashionably late and made a grand entrance, like the king and queen of the ball, only this ball was inside of a strip-mall with overhead fluorescent lights. Cherise was in a low-cut, black, tight, shiny catsuit, with large boots. Her hair was delicately wavy and pushed to one side. I could see every single curve on her body, and even though I’d already seen them uncovered, I felt so privileged to witness them again in any circumstance. Chuck wore dark denim and a navy blue polo shirt, like a suave playboy about to sweep all the ladies off their collective feet. Cherise handed him her purse and coat and he held onto them obediently as she strutted around the store, saying hello to everyone. I went over to him.
“Hey there!” I was happy to see him. He was handsome and his love for his wife made him more attractive to me, and it oddly made me want to have sex with him. I never thought I would want to fuck a married man in general, let alone someone whose wife I liked, admired, and had sex with as well. This was a new world I had entered.
“Hello there, my little slut,” he smiled and said to me, and he kissed me on the cheek. Normally my feminist instincts would tell me to punch someone who spoke to me in this manner, but with his tone, the look in his eyes, and the dynamic of our relationship, it came across as incredibly polite.
“I can take the Queen’s coat for you!” I said, and I took the coat and purse from him. We didn’t exactly have a coat check but I was going to create one.
“Thank you,” he said. He patted me on the head like I was a little bunny rabbit. It was subtle and sexy and I liked it.
Sandy turned some music on, but the porn DVD was also still on, so it sounded like a re-mix of radio hits with sexy moans and manly grunts behind it. It actually worked really well and people cheered for the impromptu sexy songs. Meanwhile, several more couples purchased ROOMZ along with handfuls of bottles of what everyone kept calling “VCR cleaner.” I’d come to guess that it was some sort of “sex upper” that maybe wasn’t quite legal in the country. Everyone did seem to really be enjoying it though, so who was I to judge?
The monitor behind the register was now divided into six different screens, from all the different people purchasing ROOMZ. This was something I had never seen before because I had never actually seen more than one room purchased at a time. I was on a penis and vagina sensory overload; I didn’t even know where to look.
In one section of the screen, I saw a big, hairy man with gold chains, slicked back hair, and a penis that was small in comparison with the rest of his body giving some incredibly determined oral sex to two different women. Back and forth he went, being smothered in between two pairs of legs. On the occasion that he came up for air, his face dripped in sweat and pussy juices. A tall, very skinny man with glasses jerked off in the corner. I wonder why he wasn’t part of the action. The big man servicing the women was not very well endowed and he was incredibly hairy but his thirst for eating pussy was fucking hot. I would choose him over the skinny guy on any day. Maybe he was banished to the corner because he was bad at eating pussy? Holy shit. One of the women in the room, I just realized, was the hygienist at the dentist’s office I went to as a kid. I stared at her when she first came in the store, trying to figure out where I knew her from; something about the face she was making while she was getting her clit licked made it all click—that was the very same face she made when she asked me what flavor of fluoride I wanted. (For the record, I always chose bubblegum.)
In another square on the screen were two younger-looking couples, who appeared to be in their early thirties. They had a timer stationed in the middle of the room, something similar to the one my mother used when she used to bake pies. I saw them each stick to their own corners of the room and then the timer would reach a certain point and the girls would switch. Then they switched again, like clockwork, every seven minutes. The two women gazed at each other from across the room as they both got fucked on all fours. Their orgasms were simultaneous. The two men in the room both fucked at the exact same pace and the couples mimicked the same positions. This was a very well-choreographed dance; I wonder how many times they rehearsed it. They were like synchronized swimmers, with penetration.
Unfortunately, in one square was Jen, the large blonde lady and her timid husband, relentlessly trying every toy without success. His penis was limp, and she looked like she was about to cry. I felt like a failure. I bet Amanda would have been able to help them. Where the hell was she?
I had to look away from the sad scene. Luckily, the next section was much hotter: on the monitor, an entrancing game was taking place. I found this corner of debauchery more entertaining than the others. A woman sat in the center of the room with a blindfold on, with four other men and three other females. The woman in the center had her mouth open and her hands tied behind her back. The group decided amongst each other which cock should go in the woman’s mouth. After a few minutes of her licking and sucking a chosen person’s cock, balls, and even taint (on some of them), she had to guess whose cock it was. If she guessed it correctly she received a prize—and that was several minutes of continuous pussy licking from the person of her choice in the group. All three of the women played the game, one after another after another, happily sucking all the mystery cocks, and receiving their oral sex when they deserved it. A score was tallied in the end, and the woman with the most correct amount of cock guesses was rewarded with sex from everyone in the room, including all the men and women, and the women wore strap-ons when the winner’s sex finale ensued.
The winner was a redhead, with short, curly hair, pale skin, lots of freckles, small breasts, and pierced nipples. A merry go round of men and women with cocks strapped to them with hot pink holsters (that were recommended and sold to them by me!), took turns penetrating her. Cocks were in her mouth, cocks were in her pussy, and one man went in her ass. He happened to be the man that she came in with, who I assumed to be her husband/ boyfriend/partner. It makes sense that he got the butt! I loved the way she sucked on the dildos with just as much passion as she did with the real cocks, and I found it so provocative the way the women took turns fucking her in the same exact way the men did. She was literally having sex with more people at one time than I had in my entire life. It was remarkable. Everyone in the room focused on fucking her brains out; she squirted multiple times, I couldn’t hear her but I could see the expressions on her face and the way her body became more and more limp with every earth-shattering orgasm until she could hardly sit up. After her circle of fucking, she laid there, in the middle of the room, covered in sweat and sperm. It was so depraved and filthy,
part of me wished I was her and I could just for a moment feel what she was feeling. The other part of me was petrified.
“Oh, nice! A gang bang!” Sandy walked by the monitor and said, while speaking very loudly and not entirely standing up straight. Ah. So that’s what a gang bang was. I had heard the term before. An entire gang, “banging” one person. It made very literal sense.
Sandy stumbled past me, mumbling, “I’ll be right back,” and passed out in our back room, on top of a stack of magazines, boxes of DVDs, and piles of unopened mail. I would have been concerned, but she looked quite comfortable sleeping back there. I grabbed her large gaudy faux fur leopard print coat and put it on top of her.
When I came back, I noticed my favorite couple being subtly frisky in between the store shelves. Cherise sat on a plastic folding chair in the corner of the store, while Chuck was on his knees, putting different pairs of heels on her and massaging her feet. In reality this was a folding chair that was collecting dust in the storage cabinet until tonight, but the poise and presence that Cherise had made it look like a majestic throne. She put on our tallest pair of stilettos, nine inches, black patent leather, and he licked her toes. Chuck created a tall tower of shoeboxes, of all the pairs of heels that Cherise liked. He snapped my attention away from the monitor of moving bodies, and focused it on him.
“I’ll take all of these,” he said.
“Of course!” I answered, as he continued to worship Cherise’s feet.
I began ringing up the various pairs of high heels. Clear ones, pink ones, sparkly red ones, open-toe and close-toe ones, and some were thigh-high boots. I imagined their house having a giant walk-in closet with multiple levels, like the ones seen on the TV show Million Dollar Listing, with a secret speakeasy-style wall that swung around and revealed all her various shoes and dildos and anything else scandalous from the part of her life that I get to see and not everyone else does.
Couples came and went as I rang things up. Someone with a ski mask walked in the door, alone. That was pretty kinky. I liked all the different types of people this event was bringing in. Perhaps he was the guy who was supposed to double penetrate the couple? His mask was made of cotton—perhaps I could get him to swap that out for something leather; I did have some new nifty leather masks in stock.
And then—he pulled out a gun.
“Freeze! Nobody move! Everyone put your hands up!”
I’d never had a gun pointed at me before. I just learned what a gang bang was not even thirty minutes ago. I had so much life left to live. I really didn’t want to die. Did this store have an alarm? Was Sandy going to wake up?! What the hell was I supposed to do?!
I looked at Chuck and Cherise who were rightfully panicking in the corner of the store. I felt horrible. I brought them here. If they died this would be all my fault.
“If I see anyone touch their phone, I’ll blow their fucking head off.”
He locked the door. I held my hands up, trembling.
“Open the register,” he said. Fuck. I was so disappointed in myself. This had to have been the highest grossing night of sales in the entire time I’ve worked here and the money is going to be completely gone. Sandy would be at a loss for all the expensive products that were used. I felt horrible. Oh yeah, I was also afraid to die. For someone who read so much Sylvia Plath and Edgar Alan Poe in college and romanticized death so much, it was a truly sobering feeling now being faced with actual death. There was nothing beautiful or poetic about this; it was humiliating. I wanted to throw up, and I felt like an asshole taking for granted all that time I spent in life being miserable. There were so many beautiful things to live for. Like Amanda. I really didn’t want to die.
I started taking money out of the register and I looked to the right of me where the shopping bags usually were and noticed they were gone.
“I . . . I don’t have anything to put it in, um, did you bring a bag, do you want me to just hand this to you? I don’t know how this works.”
“What do you mean? You don’t have any bags?!”
“We ran out! This was a busy night! We don’t usually use this many bags but tonight we used a lot of bags!” I was crying.
“Take this!! Take this!” Cherise panicked, holding up her Givenchy bag that was probably worth more than what I make in a year.
“You can take my wallet, my credit cards, and anything in there! Take it! Please—whatever you want,” she cried.
I couldn’t stop crying. I knew they had a child. They even came ahead of time to make sure this place was legit, and now they’re being held up at gunpoint. I noticed, in the monitor, Jen and her disgruntled husband had given up on trying to have an orgasm and they were walking out. Fuck! No—I wish they would just stay in there. Can I signal to them somehow? Everyone in the gang bang room was hanging out naked, smoking cigarettes, which technically wasn’t allowed in there but now was not the time to bring that up.
They walked out of view of the monitor, with all their toys that failed them, and walked into the main room of the store. The robber noticed them and quickly shifted his stance and pointed his gun at them.
“Where the fuck did you come from? Put your hands up!” The husband had a very high-pitched girly scream, and Jen’s was deep and husky. They dropped their stash of toys, their various vibrating wands and dildos fell to the ground, and they put their hands up.
The robber grabbed Cherise’s purse and began looking through it. He threw out all her credit cards and took several hundred dollars in cash. He took out a small bottle of perfume and threw it on the ground. It smashed on the floor and now there was a strong scent of her beautiful grass aroma throughout the store. If we all died, at least it would smell amazing in here. He took her cell phone out of the bag and threw it on the ground. Damn. That was definitely the brand new iPhone, and there was no way AppleCare was going to cover that.
My own cell was sitting right next to the register on silent (usually it sits in my pocket but my fancy dress this evening had none) and I could see an incoming call from Amanda. Fuck! Should I risk my whole life and pick up the phone?
She called several times. This was so infuriating; Amanda finally calls me and I can’t pick up the phone, because it will induce me getting my head blown off.
The robber was still rifling through Cherise’s bag. There was a lot in there and I’m not sure what he was looking for. I think he just enjoyed going through all her precious belongings and destroying them. A very rude payback for her, when she just so graciously offered her own bag for him to put his fucking stolen money into.
I scanned the room. The poor customers were so afraid, but I actually noticed that Jen was literally smiling from ear to ear, and she had such a large head, so this was an incredibly large smile. And then she let out an incredibly out of character girly giggle. The robber pointed the gun directly at her, and literally put it up to her head. Everyone else screamed.
“What the fuck is so funny?!” he screamed. And she let out an incredibly loud, sexy moan.
“Oh my god this is so fucking hot! This is so hot! I’m so wet right now.”
The robber looked incredibly confused, which is an odd adjective to use to describe someone holding a gun.
“Take me, take me!” she screamed. And she pulled her pants down, and bent over, holding on to a shelf full of dildos, and her husband, also apparently aroused by danger, pulled a hard cock out of his pants and started fucking her! Right there in the middle of everything. I could tell she was incredibly wet; he slid right in her, I could hear the moisture. She was moaning, “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, Daddy, fuck me,” while the gun was pressed against her head. The robber legitimately looked so uncomfortable. Definitely because of the obvious, but also because a six-foot-tall woman was calling a five-foot-tall man “Daddy.” He started to back away and Jen yelled, “Please put that gun back up to my head!”
“Fucking freak!” he said. However, he did what she asked, pointing the gun back to her head.
“Just fi
nish getting that fucking money together. Come on. I wanna get out of here. I want all of it, and I’m gonna check when you’re done.”
I thought a metal wand with balls at the end that hit your G-spot could fix Jen’s orgasm problems. Clearly, in addition to selling drugs, porn dildos and vibrators, I guess we should look into selling guns because apparently they get some people off. Her husband fucked her so hard, he smacked her ass, he pulled her hair, and the robber was trying to look away but also kindly kept the gun to her head.
“She has a hard time having orgasms—thank you, kind sir, this means a lot!” I said.
“Just shut up and get the money,” he said.
I saw my phone ring again, and then a text message flashed on the screen “I’m outside—why is the door locked?” A fit of rage came over me that this man was getting between me and Amanda! I had to do something. I couldn’t just die without trying to see her, at least one more time. I tried to think of a plan, of anything I could do. Jen was now yelling louder and louder, her husband was calling her a dirty bitch and saying, “Yeah, give me your fucking cunt.”
“Yes, Daddy, yes, yes!” she screamed.
And just then the gang bang room members entered, literally all of them naked, the women still wearing their strap-ons. They saw the sex, and they saw the robber. The curly haired redhead that was covered in dried semen chimed in.
“Fuck yeah, this night is just getting started!” And she grabbed a bottle of VCR cleaner from the snack table and inhaled it right away. The robber pointed the gun at her.
“PUT YOUR FUCKING HANDS UP!”
“All right, all right. I’ll play along, this is hot!”
And then, a moment of power came over me. The thought of Amanda sitting outside trying to find me and unable to get in, the excitement I had from a woman finally having good sex with her husband who couldn’t do that prior to coming in here, my concern for Cherise and Chuck and not wanting them to get hurt all channeled into a giant fit of rage, happiness, power, and adrenaline.