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After all that had happened, Mavis Moran mused. Willie Quentin still wanted her to continue working part-time at the supermarket he managed. After everything–Mavis was somewhat bewildered as she pushed her long, slender legs into pale blue panties, adjusted the double-ply crotch over her ample love place and arranged the cups of the matching bra around her firm breasts–she was still willing to work for him.
As she brushed her hair, she smiled at her expression in the mirror. At least, she knew Willie for what he was–or she thought she did. He was a charlatan–and he knew that she knew it. As she finished dressing, she wondered whether Becky Samon had kept her appointment the previous Wednesday to let Willie screw her.
Mavis smiled more broadly. “Theft, my itching butt!” she muttered. Well, Willie had tried that with her–it had almost worked–but she had caught him up. Well, she had after he had coerced her and seduced her in his office. She was slightly puzzled. There had been no hint of resentment that she had slugged Willie in the balls and thumped his hard-on with a knotted fist when he called her earlier, asked her to work. Well, that had happened Monday; this was Saturday. He had had ample time to get rid of any soreness in that time. And it probably hadn’t made him too sore to shag little Becky, Wednesday. He really had the hots for her.
Fictional reading for entertainment purposes only.