For the Thrill of It

(Hi everyone! I have wanted to submit a story for years, but have never completed one that I was happy with. So, I decided to just to go for it by submitting this. I really want you to have an enjoyable time with it and feel free to give a first timer some critiques. So, I will stop my ramblings and let you get on with reading!)

Megan leaned on the glass top of the counter as the clerk stared at her with a smile that attempted to be complimentary, but instead was the pinnacle of creepy. She pretended to cough as she investigated the soft gold chain that currently resided within her hand. The man just continued to gaze upon her, doing his best to be helpful, but just failing miserably. "Well, this does seem lighter than the last one," she critiqued, "but perhaps too fragile. I'd hate to be a bother, but do you mind showing me a heavier one?"

The man nodded over zealously. "Certainly ma'am."

He took the chain away and Megan sighed with a relief. Finally, he turned his back without locking the front case. It took four trips, but as always, persistence was the key. With crafty fingers, Megan reached quickly into the slightly ajar case and grabbed the piece she truly wanted, which was a very adorable diamond necklace. As the clerk unlocked the other case, she managed to worm the pendant under her sleeve and rearrange some of the other necklaces to make it look like nothing was missing. As the man returned with the thicker chain, Megan was back in her casual lean on the counter. "I hope this one is better," said the old clerk.

Megan didn't want the man to grow suspicious, so she made sure to spend as much time with this one as the others. After a seemingly acceptable minute, she grimaced and formed an expression of absolute repentance. "I feel terrible, but I may have wasted your time. None of these are particularly exciting me. I'm so sorry," Megan groveled.

The man's eternal grin did not fade, but rather, seemed to completely understand. "That's the nature of shopping, ma'am. There is no reason to feel bad. If you change your mind though, just stop on by."

"I will do," Megan responded graciously. "Have a nice day." As she walked away, she slyly shook the pendant from her sleeve and into her purse. The whole experience sent a thrilling rush through her nerves. She succeeded without need for flirting, cleavage, or hell, anything remotely sexual.

The store bustled with customers, Thanksgiving on the horizon. Megan looked forward to this holiday traffic since people were often too absorbed by their shopping activities to notice her mischievous ones. Still, the pendant indeed was quite the high ticket item, so despite her desire to visit the makeup department for more... discounts, it was best for her to be on her way.

The exit was in her sight when Megan noticed something else out of the corner of her eye. A man about fifty feet in front of her leaned over a rack of shirts. The interesting part happened to be the wallet protruding so alluringly from his back pocket. Pick pocketing was well out of her normal pervue since she enjoyed stealing more due to the challenge and skill rather than being like a street urchin from some stuffy novel. Still, she had taken a few such items on occasion, and this man reeked of obliviousness.

Megan flipped her long chocolate brown hair back, a habit that helped her mentally prepare for a daring escapade. She walked carefully to make sure that the clicks of her heels were not too noticeable. For thirty seconds, her hands sorted through a table of garish polo shorts, before finally, she swooped in. Casually, Megan grasped at the thick wallet and pulled it out like the sword from the stone. With a tight posture, she hurried to a display of artificial Christmas trees and hid there.

A giggle escaped Megan's lips; the rush she received even greater than that of the pendant heist. Anxiously, she decided to investigate her spoils, opening the leather clasp on the wallet. Her eyebrows rose as she became perplexed by what she found. The wallet was completely empty. No money. No credit cards. Not even a driver's license. Suddenly, she felt a tight grip on her arm as some removed her from the hiding spot.

Indeed, the hand belonged to the same person who owned the wallet. He was a tall man with jet black here and stern blue eyes, framed by a casual stubble. His muscles were hidden under a white collared shirt, his pants gripping his lower body tightly. Megan's expression exuded utter panic as the man took his wallet back. "Now, now," he chuckled, "it's not nice to take things that belong to others."

Megan pouted her lips as she narrowed her amber eyes at the man. "And it's not nice to grab people, might I add."

The man drug Megan through the crowd, everyone around ignorantly unaware of her plight. Her heels drugs and clicked as she was thrown into a secluded area behind the book department. The man laughed gruffly again, sliding the purse off of Megan's arm, despite her protests. "Now, don't be so rude. You got to see what was in my wallet, so I get to see what is in yours!"

Megan's skin grew pale as he shuffled through her bag, knowing exactly what he will find. First, he opened her wallet, taking stock of the lack of cash and looking at her driver's license. "Megan Ellison. Huh, yeah, you do look like a Megan," he laughed throwing the wallet back into the bag. His eyes then lit up as he looked down. "Now, what is this?" Megan gulped as he pulled the pendant from the purse, dangling it in front of her face. "Well, this looks awfully expensive. I wonder where the receipt is..."

Megan clenched her fists together as she leaned in. "What the hell? Who are you? Let... let go of my stuff..."

He let out his smug laugh yet again. "We both know this doesn't belong to you, Meg, so, I suggest you don't go about making a scene."

Megan bit her lip. She hated being called Meg. "Well, you don't seem upstanding yourself," she protested. "I mean, what was up with that wallet?"

"Yeah, that is weird, isn't it? It's almost like it was a trap," the man replied with a wicked grin. "I work for security and there has been a string of pick pocketing here. I was trying to lure out the culprit."

Megan's flesh lost any sense of color. She managed to mutter, "fuck."

The man leaned in. "Don't worry, Meg. I know you aren't the master thief I was looking for. I mean, you tried to rob from me in those heels! Like, how dumb are you?"

Megan was too busy being shell-shocked to become angry at that comment. "Unless, you weren't trying to steal from me at all, but rather, just wanted into my pockets," the man sneered. He grabbed Megan's wrist yet again, her eyes bulging as he roughly shoved her hand into his front pocket. "Let's see if you find anything of interest in there, Meg."

Megan wormed about as her hand was pinned in the pocket, the man's grip controlling the path of her fingers. After some shuffling, her senses picked up on his intended target. They shared eye contact as he moved her wrist up and down, making her fingers rub up and down the length of his manhood. It was semi-hard and a good six inches at least, throbbing at her touch. She trembled while sheepishly asking, "are you going to turn me in?"

"I don't know," he shrugged, causing her hand to make a hard rub on the cock. "You are certainly not the pickpocket, but this thing is pretty pricey. Any second now they are going to find out it's gone. Before that happens, why don't we have you try it on?"

His strong grip continued to make Megan's hand rub up and down his length, the thing growing with each passing second. She hung her head as she nodded, choking out, "I think that is better than going to jail."

"Wonderful," the man replied, finally freeing Megan's hand. "I'm Derrick, by the way. A pleasure to meet you. Follow me." Derrick grasped Megan's hand again, dragging her once more through the crowded store. Derrick's stride was quick and firm, not allowing any chance for Megan to wiggle away. To Megan's relief, she happened to see the clerk in the distance, still seemingly not aware of his missing item.

After a minute of marching, Megan found herself gently pushed into a small white dressing room with a small bench opposing a human sized mirror. "Face the mirror Meg so I can put this on," Derrick commanded. She complied and stared at the mirror, seeing her curvy form dwarfed by the size of the man behind her. He slid the necklace around her neck, clasping it in the back. "Your license said you are twenty one, is that right? Little young to be a criminal mastermind, aren't you?"

Megan turned away from the mirror and nodded. "Well, everyone starts somewhere," she chirped.

Derrick grabbed her chin and made her stare at the necklace in the mirror, which hung over her brown blouse. It shimmered wonderfully around her neck in the low light, looking pristine. "And most criminal geniuses also have skill. Or at least a death-ray of some kind. You look gorgeous by the way." His hand reached down and gripped her ass roughly, making her wince. He used his other hand to massage her side.

"I left all of my death-rays at home, sadly," Megan chortled, feeling the hand grope her flesh through her jeans.

"Well, I am actually in a merciful mood. Not only am I not going to turn you in, but I am going to help you smuggle this out," Derrick said with a sense of menace.

Megan looked at him through the mirror with suspicious. "Something tells me that there is a catch."

Derrick kept one hand on Megan's ass, but ran the other through her hair. "Well, not really a catch, but we do need to make sure people are distracted from your neck." Both of his hands moved to Megan's shoulders as he grinded himself into her behind, his bulge very pronounced by this point. "I have a plan, though."

With that, he pushed down on Megan's shoulders roughly, forcing the woman to her knees. She stared at herself in her pretty necklace one last time before being roughly turned around, face to face with the bulge in Derrick's pants. Her amber eyes glimmered as they looked up, his hands still on her shoulders. "I don't see how this is going to help me escape, quite frankly."

Derrick laughed as he grabbed her wrists again, bringing Megan's hands to the button on his jeans. "Don't worry, Meg, we both know I'm the smart one. I know what I'm doing." Megan's digits shook as they loosened the buttons. The pants cascaded to the floor, leaving the large bulge pushing against the thin fabric of boxers. With a slight grunt, she pulled the undergarment down. His cock flew out immediately, a good eight inches now, slapping her in the cheek. The musky smell of it floated into her nose. "Best get to it, Meg."

Megan couldn't help but roll her eyes before hooking her head back and grabbing the bulbous cockhead between her lips. She let it sit on her tongue for a moment, her eyes pointed up as she barely could believe what she was doing. What was worse to her was that Megan realized some excitement was brewing in her heart. She let the cockhead rest between her two lips for roughly twenty seconds, using her tongue to lick and lather the fleshy bulb. She then reached back and gripped her heels, rolling her head and letting two inches enter. She kept rolling her head and tongue in unison, swirling the start of the dick in her gullet and covering it with saliva.

Megan fell into a persistent rhythm, her head rolling consistently. After about half of the cock was in Megan's mouth, Derrick tilted her head back, placing a hand in her hair and coaxing her further. An inch slid in, unexpectedly, causing a gag to escape Megan's lips. She then readjusted her approach, scooping the dick from the side with a tilted grind from her lips. They slide up and down the veiny flesh, the throbbing intense on her tongue.

"I think we found something you ARE skilled at, Meg," Derrick groaned. Most of the penis was firmly in Megan's head as spit bubbled at the corners of her stretched lips. She became more proactive at pleasing it, bobbing her head in a dependable motion in a two inch span. The movement started slow with a total trip from point to point lasting about ten seconds. With each successive trip, the time lessened. Within a bit, Megan's head was flying on the segment, her hair rippling in the air.

Derrick slumped down on the bench; an action that caused his hips to thrust upwards, forcing the cock fully into Megan's mouth. Drool leaked down her chin as she sputtered and gagged briefly, her hands squeezing her heels tightly. The balls beat against her drool soaked chin, her head gurgling as Derrick gripped her hair tightly.

"Ah, that is much better," he chirped as he started to pump Megan's head for all that it was worth. The cockhead wormed into her throat, the muscles there tightening around the dick, encasing it as it slammed back and forth. Megan's nostrils flared and hair bounced as her body writhed under the might of the shaft.

Derrick then felt a buzz against her ankle. With a bit of skill, he managed to reach into his pocket and grab it, happy to see Megan follow is downward motion and ascension back up. With Derrick's hands busy elsewhere, Megan pulled out to the six inch mark, slurping her head up and down the cock in three inch intervals. Derrick smirked at the phone before casually using his freehand to push Megan back down, fully impaling her once more.

"Oh, Meg sweetheart, looks like old man Rufus finally figured out something is gone. You are going to be in sooooo much trouble," Derrick taunted as he kept his dick fully sheathed in Megan's gullet.

Derrick held her head there for fifteen seconds, Megan's cheeks losing color slightly. He then suddenly stood up and pushed her head back on the mirror, slamming the cock in deeper. Megan's body bucked under the pressure. His hips drove the meat into her head again and again, her skull bouncing against the mirror. To steady herself, Megan reached up and gripped his ass as he slowed his approach, pulling out nearly halfway and then slamming forward. Each time, her head hit against the mirror with the balls slapping her chin.

After a minute of the long slams, Derrick pulled out, leaving Megan to keel forward and pant like a dog. "Back on your knees, Meg.," Derrick ordered, grabbing her chin. She complied, looking up again as Derrick worked his shaft with his own hand. Megan finally caught her breath, cockhead inches from her face as she reached up to voluntarily to massage his balls.

That was enough, apparently, because almost immediately, a shot of semen spurt from the slit in the cock, landing on the right side of Megan's face. Derrick let out a cry as the hard shaft spasmed, shooting three successive shots onto her face and hair. Some splashed on her cheek and chin while other drops landed in her hair and on her top. Ironically enough, the final spurt landed right on pendant around her neck. Megan stared ahead blindly, a descent amount of cum now littering her face.

"Let's see how pretty you look now," Derrick chuckled, helping Megan to her feet. He turned her around and Megan was shocked by her appearance. Cum streaked down the curves of her face and chin, some of it falling onto her flesh and top. A thick strand stained her curly brown hair. In fact, her right eye was shut from a heavy contingent of goop.

Megan reached up to wipe her face, but Derrick stopped her. "No, no Meg. This is your way out."

Megan turned to him with a confused expression. "What the fuck do you mean?"

Derrick sighed, looking down on her while pulling up his pants. "It's a very good thing you stole from Rufus," he explained. "The man is nice, but rather a dolt. All we know is that we are looking for a short, brunette Caucasian in a brown top. They also don't have a clear shot of you on camera, if this text is to be believed. So, the best way to hide is in plain sight. Everyone is just going to ignore the woman who stumbles out of a dressing room with cum all over her face. Just, if you see a guard, head the other way."

Megan nodded since the man did have a point. "All right, thanks... I guess," she coughed, her throat a bit coarse now.

"Don't think we're done Meg. I want you to wear that necklace proudly as you walk out of here. There is a café across the street. Wait there for me. My shift is done in two hours... and don't dare clean your face," Derrick said. "Remember, I have your name and address."

The idea of sitting in a public place with cum hardening on her face made Megan recoil in terror, but it wasn't like there was much alternative. "All right, I'll wait," she replied coldly.

Derrick spanked her ass, causing Megan to jump. "Perk up, Meg! This is the biggest score of your life!" He then opened the door and pushed her out of the room.

An old woman wearing an employee name-tag peaked down the hallway, staring right at Megan. The two women shared eye contact for a half a minute. The employee then slowly turned her head, walking away as if she saw a ghost. Maybe Derrick was right after all.

Megan's heels clicked as she ventured into the more open area of the store. She noticed two men in security uniforms in the back end of the store, chatting sternly. Putting her head down, Megan journeyed the other way, unable to see out of one of her eyes. She moved quickly enough so people didn't fully register what was all over her face, though some did stop to gawk at her. Plus, Megan was pretty certain that the smell was as intense to others as it was to her.

Then, to even her own surprised, the cum splattered thief realized she was now outside in the cool November air. The midday sun beat down on her soiled face, making it even harder to see out of her one open eye. She could still see enough to notice the café. While moving, Megan worked to position her head to block the view of her face from others... which almost caused a collision with a barista. The raven haired woman just stared at her blankly, not really blinking. After a moment, she managed to say "you have something on her face."

Megan could only respond with the loudest sigh of her life. "Yeah, I know that."

==================================================

For the next few hours, Megan camped out in the corner of the café on a very comfy sofa. At all times, she had one of their many terrible free magazines in front of her face, making sure the periodical was high enough to hide her visage. The sun was setting outside, lighting the sky in bright pinks. Her face felt insanely uncomfortable and tight.

Without warning, she heard a laugh. As she suspected, it belonged to Derrick. "Oh my god! I can't believe you didn't clean your face! You look disgusting!"

Megan stared at the man with absolute contempt. "Someone directly told me NOT TO."

Derrick cocked his head to the side, replying "you shouldn't be such a sheep, Meg."

Megan's eyes narrowed further as she stood up, her fists clenched. "I hate being called Meg."

Derrick rolled his eyes, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Another dumb move, sweetheart. Now that I know that, there is no way I am going to call you anything else... Meg."

Megan wrinkled her nose in frustration as she produced some moist toilettes from her purse, scrubbing at her face maddeningly. First, the clump in front of her eyes was addressed, finally returning her to normal vision. "What are you going to do to me now?"

Derrick folded his arms, now dressed in one of the blue security uniforms. "God Meg, I'm not a monster. I've decided not to turn you over to the police. In fact, I 'm going to help you get rid of that thing."

Megan gripped the pendant in her hand, realizing that there was still some sperm on it. "I took this to have it, not to sell it!"

Derrick picked up one of the toilettes and wiped the last bit of sperm from her cheek. He then wrapped his arm around her and helped her out the door. It wasn't long before that hand found its way again to her ass. "Meg, Meg, Meg... you can't keep it! That is well worth over a thousand dollars. We need to get rid of it, posthaste."