Behind The Beaded Curtain Of A Sleazy ’70s Sex Shop - Sex Stories

Behind The Beaded Curtain Of A Sleazy ’70s Sex Shop

... certainly wouldn’t fuck one of them!” “No, me neither, I’d rather wait for the real thing,” said Peter eyeing the masturbation aids. Suddenly, the influx of customers arrived. There were older men in raincoats, and a few younger guys, all looking for wank fodder. Of course, some had guilty expressions, red faces and others had indulged in some Dutch courage. Peter enjoyed flirting with the older punters, as he slipped their purchases into discreet brown paper bags. Trade was brisk that evening. “I think you’re good for sales, young Peter. Maybe I won’t cane your arse just yet,” Rick laughed. That night, young Peter was shown a lot of uncensored material, and ended up sleeping with Rick upstairs in the damp flat above the shop. It was a night that Peter would never regret. The two men became regular sexual partners. The arrangement suited young Peter as he could never pull the girls. For Rick, it was just lust for the 21-year-old’s youthful arse and tight hole. Both were curiously dispassionate about their affair and it never really developed into love. A few months later, there was a police raid on the premises. Rick was absent, so young Peter had to handle things alone. A substantial amount of magazines was seized. Rick was furious but at least none of the more, ahem, specialised material was found by the coppers. Peter couldn’t help but feel guilty for the upheaval, though in truth he was blameless. The following few days at work he was completely downcast. “Don’t worry, ...

... Peter. It’s not your fault we were raided. I’ve been in touch with the law, and they have said they might return some of the stuff as it has been cleared. I’m pretty matey with some of the lads down the station these days. Our paths cross a lot, as it were. I sometimes slip them a few spankers to keep them sweet. They’re only doing their job, after all.” “You bribe them with spanking magazines?” “That’s a very strong word, Peter. I just like to oil the cogs of the machines of justice, as it were.” “Well it hasn’t worked, has it? They’ve not returned the stuff have they?” “Not yet, but they will, my boy, they will.” “You think!” “No, I know. Now bite your lip, unless you want a good hard caning from your boss?” “No thanks, Rick,” said Peter, although he did wonder if such a thrashing might purge his overwhelming feelings of guilt. His mind was in turmoil following the raid, and about his relationship with Rick. He was even beginning to feel guilty about working in the shop and how it would impact his life and career. A few days later, two policemen turned up at the shop at closing time. They had brought many of the seized magazines back with them, so Peter was tasked with unloading them from the Austin panda car. Soon the car was emptied, and the police sergeant sent the driver on his way. “Drink, Mark?” Rick asked the sergeant. “Well, I shouldn’t really, I’m still on duty. But if you insist.” “I do, I do. Come upstairs for a beer, you too Peter.” Peter was reluctant to join the ...