Just Another Day at the Bed Shop

I work in a bed shop. I won't tell you which one, but I'll say it's quite well-known, and has some 'z's in its name. I've worked here for nearly three years, since I finished my A-levels, and I'm going to be promoted soon. The pay's okay, and I get a bonus every time I sell one of the more expensive beds. I'm the best saleswoman here. Melissa, the head of sales, hates me for that. Every month I see her trying a little bit harder to flirt with the customers: wearing shorter and shorter skirts and bras that push her boobs right up, but it hasn't worked. She's too old. Mel -- if you're reading this -- you're too old.

The best part of the job is the beds. The shop's a long way out of town, and sometimes I'm here by myself and there are no customers at all. At times like that (Tuesday afternoons are usually quiet) I get the duvet from the back room, and have a little nap. I'm not a lazy person, but it's really really comfortable. If any customers come in, it sounds a buzzer above the door, so I have time to stand up, neaten myself up, and be ready to sell a bed to them.

Last Tuesday a young couple came in.

"We're looking for a double bed," said the man.

I could see exactly where he was looking, and there was no way he was going to find a bed down my blouse. There was no room, what with my boobs being down there already. They were young, probably newly married, or just moving in together. With a budget of about a thousand pounds, I reckoned. I smiled at them. The husband was tall and strong-looking, the wife a timid-looking brunette.

"Well, you've come to the right place," I said, "Have a try of some of them and let me know which ones you like." I could see they weren't the sort to respond well to pressure.

The wife sat down on the nearest double bed.

"Oh, it's very bouncy" she giggled, as her delicate body bumped up and down.

Her husband sat down next to her.

"Let's try another one -- this feels a bit too wobbly."

They moved to the next bed.

"I need to do some paperwork," I lied, "I'll be up the other end of the shop. Just shout when you find something you like. Take all the time you want."

I stood by the door to the back office and shuffled some papers. I was hidden from sight, but I could hear them.

"This one's nice," she was saying.

"I'm not sure about the edging."

"No, that'll go well in the room."

"What about... no, that's too low -- try sitting down"

"Yeah, and it seems a bit... old fashioned."

"Oh god, this one's lovely."

"Wow, that's amazing.""

"How much is it?"

"That's perfect. I could fall asleep now.".

"Did you see where the girl went?."

"No, but I did see you staring at her tits."

"I wasn't."

"You were, but you've got me now, remember the whole wedding thing?"

"I wonder what this bed's like for fucking on," he said, to change the subject.

"It's fantastic," I said, walking up the shop towards them, "Don't tell my boss I said that, but it gives great back support, and these posts at the headboard end are just right for holding on to. It's got a friction on the top so the mattress doesn't slip when you're..."

The woman was blushing, the man was smiling at me. I stopped.

"I'm sorry," I said, "you really didn't need to know that."

"Well, that's probably what we'll be using it for," said the wife, "it's good to have a recommendation."

"Would you want to test it first?" I asked her.

"Do you mean, we fuck on it?"

"Yeah, I wouldn't want you to buy it until you know it works. I can lock the door, switch out the lights, I'll go and have a coffee, and see you in twenty minutes. It's got a sheet on it."

They both wanted to play. They were both young and beautiful, on a big soft comfortable bed.

"Ten minutes," said the wife. The husband looked surprised. I walked to the front of the shop, locked the door, changed the open/closed sign, drew the blinds, and switched out the lights. As I passed the bed they were lying side-by-side.

"See you in ten," I said, "have fun."

I went into the back office. The sale was just-about complete. All I had to do was wait for them to finish, then approach them at exactly the right moment.

I sat back and turned on the CCTV screen. I didn't really get a kick out of watching them, but needed to know when they were done. This time I probably didn't need the camera -- the woman was loud enough to hear from the office.

"Do you think she's allowed to do this?" she asked her husband.

"Does it matter? -- I've been wanting to fuck you for the last four hours."

"So what are you waiting for. Stop talking and fuck me."

He unbuttoned his fly and a long pink cock stood proud of his body.

"Get your clothes off," he said, "I'm ready, you're not."

She eagerly obeyed.

"What do you want to do to me?" she asked, as she slipped off her panties.

"I want to fuck you so hard we break the bedsprings," he told her, "I want to pound you raw. Spread your legs you dirty bitch."

There was no foreplay, no buildup. He was hard, and she was ready. Okay, she wasn't quite ready. I saw the pain in her face as he forced himself into her. She wasn't wet, and they weren't using any lube. I know how much that hurts.

"Fuck me," she said, enjoying the pain, "fuck me so hard I can't walk".

He grabbed the posts on the bed, where I showed him. Her legs were up, spread wide and he lifted them over his shoulders, her pussy open. He forced himself into her. He was big, not the biggest, but more than she could comfortably take.

"Harder," she shouted as he found his rhythm. He looked like he was going pretty strongly, thrusting hard and fast and deep. "Harder," she screamed, "fuck me harder". He was pulling nearly all the way out each time, then thrusting home. I don't know how she managed to take it. She was so petite it didn't look like there was room inside her.

"Harder," she repeated. She seemed angry, willing him to break her. Her fingernails were digging into his thighs, guiding him back and forth.

"Fuck me like you mean it." I couldn't see how he could do much more. "Fuck me like a whore." He kept ploughing into her.

"Break my fucking legs," she screamed. He held her ankles and spread them wider, forced them back so her knees were pressing against her breasts, and kept thrusting into her like a machine piston.

"Hit me," she gasped. He slapped her thigh. I began to wonder what I'd do if he really injured her.

"Harder," she commanded, "hit me harder". He slapped her buttock, a strong, stinging blow that made her flinch. She wrapped her legs around him, and he kept pounding into her, desperately.

"Hurt me!" she screamed. Her breasts were bouncing wildly with her movements, "fuck me in half."

\he increased his pace.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes yes" she screamed, "fuck yes."

I really hadn't been expecting this from them. I thought it would be genteel middle-class sex, not this sort of raw physical passion. He was merciless, and she wasn't gentle either.

The man paused.

"Don't you fucking dare stop," she commanded.

He slipped down her body, and began kissing her pussy.

"Fuck me, don't eat me," she shouted, "I want your fucking cock in me, not your fucking tongue."

He ignored her, and kept kissing and licking.

"I'm begging you babe; fuck me."

He kept going, easing two fingers into her.

"Please babe, not today,"

He knelt back up, and obediently followed her instruction. I've never seen a guy go for it like he did, and I'm never seen a woman quite so appreciative. I literally though he was going to split the poor girl in two. I had to look away from the screen, but I could still hear her shouting:

"Oh, oh, ah, ah, uh, uh, uh," it began, then "uh uh uh uh ah ah eh," then "uh-uh-uh-ohgod-uh-uh-uh- I'm coming."

She squealed like an animal when she peaked, and collapsed onto the bed. He slipped his cock back into his fly, and left her to dress.

I watched her pull on her skirt and top. She'd wiped herself with her panties, and stuffed them into her handbag. Now looked like the right time to make the sale.

I walked back down the showroom.

"So, do you want to buy the bed?" I asked.

"I think so," she smiled, "Can we get it delivered?"

"When would you want it by?" I asked.

"Tonight," said her husband, firmly.