It's What You Deserve - Sex Stories

It's What You Deserve

... Sure enough, the payment goes through this time. Thank God. I place the card down on the conveyor belt along with the printed out receipt.

“There you go, have a nice day,” I say, forcing a smile,

“That’s it?” he questions in a sarcastic tone, “Come on, Taigy, where’s your hospitality? Can’t I at least get a ‘Goodbye’?”

“Sir, the transaction is complete. I now ask that you exit the premises unless you would like to make another purchase.”

“You’re so mean. What about a kiss?”

“Sir, I don’t take kindly to being harassed. Now, please leave or I will contact security to escort you out of here. And neither of us wants that.”

“Oh, now, you don’t have to go through such lengths, Taigy. Look, why don’t we just hang out after your shift like we used to? I’ll take you wherever you want, get you whatever you want, maybe we’ll go back to my pla-”

“Macy,” a thunderous voice says in the distance, causing Mason to turn white as a ghost, “What did we discuss about saying ‘I love you’ at the end of our calls?”

Mason’s frozen in place as his dad heads in our direction. Oh, sweet, savory, delicious karma, how I adore thee.

“You know how important it is to me that we end every conversation possible with those three words, Macy. Why’s it so difficult for you to say it?”

“Ok, ok, I love you,” Mason says with blatant desperation in his voice, “There. I said it. Now would you please quit calling me that so loud?”

“Oh, now you want proper considerations to be ...

... accounted for. I thought I raised you better tha-...Oh...Hello, Taiga.”

“H-hi, Mr. Klef,” I greet back with a wave, barely able to make eye contact.

I am now torn on how I feel. On one hand, I’m in the presence of the person whose marriage I accidentally ruined a few months ago because of a dumb drunken kiss that still eats me up to this day. But on the other hand, Mason’s feeling immensely worse about it for obvious reasons. Both him and his bitch mom’s lives have been turned upside down and I’m the reason why. It’s funny how something as minor as homewrecking can be the cause of such a weird mix of emotions.

“I- uh-...I didn’t know you worked here,” he says,

“Just started a few weeks ago,” I reply as my heart races trillions of miles a second, “It’s-...part of a bet I have going on with a friend. Winner gets $1,000. I’m here in retail and he’s got food because scissors beat paper.”

“Hm. That’s...good...I guess...Keep up the good work.”

“Yeah, yeah, we get it, he’s doing such a good job,” Mason chimes in, “Now, if you’ll excuse us, we were talking about plans for later before you rudely interrupted.”

“Oh...oh...I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt. I should probably-...get going anyways.”

“Yeah, ok, bye.”

His dad starts to say something, but stops himself before hesitantly turning around and walking back outside. Once he’s out of sigh, Mason turns his attention back to me, saying,

“Anyways, like I was saying, we could go back to my place. Maybe catch ...