Big Joe and His Bag

Big Joe, assistant manager of Wal-Mart now for the past fourteen years, stood along side Abby, checking to see if she was checking the customers out in an orderly, genteel fashion. He was sent by the store manager, Bill Franks, to see to it that every cashier be “watched” for at least a half an hour by a manager, just to see if “everything was in working order,” in other words, no one was stealing any money, since someone had been recently, just sneaking a hundred every now and then. The cameras were always turned off, just to save Wal-Mart a few extra bucks, they didn’t want to hire any security to watch the tapes anyway, and God forbid if any of the managers—who were busy with their odds and ends—would watch them. For Christ’s sake, they were too busy fondling their own stacks of cash. The store manager got paid about two hundred thousand a year; the assistant managers were paid roughly sixty thousand a year, and the customer service managers got about, well, about twenty thousand a year, while the employees, if they were lucky, just as Stan Flannery was, got a wopping nine twenty five an hour. The money distribution was a bit lop-sided, wouldn’t you say? Maybe that is why people were sneaking a few extra bucks every now and then. A good 99 percent of the cashiers were honest people, having been “scanned” by a six page test for employment, to see if there were any character flaws in their poor ass characters. But there was that one percent, of whom Abby was thought to belong to that “wretched group of greedy bastards,” as Bill Franks would say to the members of the board meeting—just to show that he had a good ol’ common man vocabulary. That is why Big Joe, who weighed in access of three hundred pounds, was standing, a little too close for comfort, next to Abby, who was nervous as hell at the moment he walked up to her.
Poor girl was scared out of her wits. Picture it, this big fat dude, wearing a tie and a tight blue button shirt, with the first three buttons unfastened, just to show a little manly spirit, with a bunch of chest hair protruding rudely out of the open area—and he was staring through his shaded glasses at her dealing out cash. Girl had a hard time counting, it is a wonder why she didn’t get fired her first day at the joint; man, it was easily close to two hundred bucks that she handed out instead of ones. Shit ain’t easy when you are borderline retarded. Well, let’s not say retarded, let’s just call her dim. Yeah, that’s the word for it. Anyway, Jim wasn’t really watching the money at all, but her little money maker, jiggling with just the right amount of baby fat. And those little elbow shaped titties. The girl was nineteen, purely legal material, but Bit Joe didn’t really care about the legal part at all; he hadn’t been laid in at least five years. After his wife ditched his fat ass for a guy that actually had been able to see his dick, he was without a vagina to stick his tiny cock into. No, it is not true what they say about all fat dudes, that they have small cocks, but in Joe’s case, yeah, he certainly had about a thumbs worth of virile flesh to contemplate the innards of a moist pussy.
He was sick and tired of being able to say a word to these fine pieces of ass. Christ man, that Stan Flannery got to talk to all these beauties, and they actually liked it. Like they were flirting or something, something he hadn’t done since college, of which he dropped out after having drunk too much Miller Light and threw a burning couch out of his three story apartment window. He didn’t like Mr. Flannery, and he suspected that he had a thing for little Abby here; he could just see it in his eyes whenever he looked at her, well, gazed at her and her little tits, and fine ass. She probably didn’t know it—she was rather obtuse, but Joe believed that she was probably very wise in the bedroom, after having been in college for a year; and man, she hadn’t even succumbed to the freshman fifteen! Girl was thin, with just the right amount of padding in all the right places. Thing is, Big Joe would have taken just about any of these girls, but Abby was the one that he really wanted. Damn right he did. He wanted to bury his hand up her pussy. It was being spread around that Stan Flannery fist-fucked some girl that worked at Perkins. Stan was the center of allot of rumors. Someone said that he was gay onetime and that one took off like a Greyhound in heat. Another person said that he had a big cock, and then everyone wanted to know, but no one ever did, ever would—Mr. Flannery didn’t want any part of the highschool fun-night crowd. He wouldn’t have minded to fuck one of those fifty year old ladies. Fine bitches knew how to screw, he was sure of that. But, poor Mr. Flannery lived at home. There was a time when he used to fuck the shit out of his girlfriend in his bedroom, but after they broke up and he realized that his parents heard every moan of pleasure, he decided that he should probably resist having any girl in his room for that particular activity.
But, Big Joe had his own place, with a whirlpool. Damn, the dude was a swingin motha fucka, or at least wanted to be. He needed some play, and he needed it bad. So, while he stood their watching Abby, he decided to take a chance and blew in her ear, just softly enough for her to mistake it for a draft. But, then she turned around, and smiled. That was weird, she thought. Then Big Joe whispered softly, “you and me baby, we should take this good thing on back to my place tonight.”
It was a good thing that there weren’t any customers around, since Big Joe was kindly blew off by her ignoring him. “I said, let’s go to my place.” This time with a little more force of the vocal cords.
“No, I don’t think so, J.C. asked me out for dinner tonight.”
“Hmmm…..J.C. Jesus Christ..hahahha!” Big Joe bellowed.
She smiled, turned her head and went back to her work.
“Baby, you know as well as me and all the rest of the “higher ups” that you’ve been sneakin’ a little extra change here and there, right?”
“What?!”
“You’ve been a stealin’ huh, baby?”
“No way, man.”
Big Jim grinned like a Jack-o-Lantern with a candle shining through, revealing his ten teeth he had left from too much chewing tobacco. “You come back to my place and we’ll just forget about the whole thing. And don’t try takin this to Frank, because he’s gonna be there too.”
Thing was, she was guilty, well just a bit, because she had a little thing going. Yeah, she had taken a few hundred here and there, but her big caper was to take the gift cards that she had put money on, and then give the customer one that wasn’t charged. She had made approximately a grand selling them to her friends for half the price of what was on them. She stood and thought about calling the Wal-Mart “high ups” higher than Bill Frank and Big Joe. But then, if they found out about her little heists, she might be put in jail or some shit like that, so what the hell, she thought, it really couldn’t be that bad. Maybe a blow job or something, no big dea.
“Well, alright.”
“And believe me, I know,” he said with a wink. “I’ll tell you what, meet me back here at seven. Deal? Just meet me out in the parking lot, on the other hand, meet me next to Bed Bath and Beyond, there we can leave without any one being suspicious.
Then Big Joe walked away, thinking, damn I love having a little power.

At Seven


When the hour rolled around, Abby grabbed a box of condoms, “just in case” if they wanted to you know. Then she got her purse, made sure that her dress was on right; I mean, she wanted to look really good. They knew, yes they did. This sucked, but it was a way of getting out of getting fired, or even worse, jail time. Poor bitch didn’t want to miss college. She loved her classes, even bio chemistry, a class of which her father made her take. He was one of those science buffs, thinking that perhaps his daughter would turn out like him. But, she thought that English was the way to go, but isn’t that what Stan got his degree in? Yeah, she thought, but he can write like a mother fuck. Anyway, let’s get the fuck out of here. So she put on her shoes and walked out the door of her house. Luckily her parents were out at the Olive Garden eating pre-made pasta, with canned alfredo sauce.
When she got in her car, she put on some Taylor Swift, and sang along to ‘Love Story’. She sometimes wished she were Taylor Swift, well all the time, the girl had all the money in the world and got to fuck whoever she wanted. As she pulled into the Bed Bath and Beyond parking lot, she immediately saw Big Jims BMW, sitting in the handicapped space in front of the door. Bastard, well, maybe he will be handicapped some day, and have to ride one of those electric motorized carts in the stores. Fat fuck.
She parked next to him, got out of her car, and walked over to his window.
“Get in, babe. We gotta long way to go, but we gotta start somewhere. Do you wanna be startin somethin?”
“I suppose, yeah, I guess I do,” she said.
He smiled that infamous pumpkin grin, and said, “Yeah, babe, let’s just ride, and ride and ride.”
“Ok, let’s do it.”
“Good attitude. I’ll even add to that money that you’ve taken ever so kindly, and a couple of gift cards, wink, wink.”
“Right, let’s do it, you sure look good tonight.” Now she was trying, good girl.
“Get in or I’m gonna whoop some ass,” Jim said, smiling even wider, his penis starting to grow its maximum length of three inches.
She walked around to the passenger side of his car, got in and Jim hit the peddle, speeding all the way to his house. On the way there, a couple of cops saw him, but when they realized who it was, they just gave him the ‘ok’ sign and paid no attention to his radical speeding.
They pulled into his drive way, and she noticed that a Mercedes was parked near the door. They got out of the car, well, she did, he took a little time, then he flopped on the ground. “Shit!” He said, embarrassed.
“Oh, I’ll help you up!” She said, still hung up on the fact that this dude and probably allot of other guys knew about the money.
“Thanks, babe,” he said, as he brushed off the grass.
“No, problem,” she said, “I really want to see the inside of your house.”
“Yeah, and I want to see the inside of you.”
“Your wish is my command.”
He grabbed her ass, putting one finger up her ass crack. “That’s the spirit!”
And so they walked inside to see an eager Bill Franks sitting on the couch, masturbating. “Hey, I thought you’d never get here. Take a look at this shit.” He said, pointing to his cock. “That shit actually works, Extends is the real deal.” He was speaking of the penis enlargement drug you can buy off of the television; Ron Jeremy was the spokesman.
“Whoa! That’s big as shit. I feel like a mouse.” Joe said as he pulled his own rock hard, well, pelvic thumb out of his pants and started to stroke it and down. Simultaneously, Abby walked over to Bill, knelt down and sucked his cock as best she could. He didn’t cum, even after she made it extra sloppy, with saliva dripping down her neck. She ripped her shirt off, revealing beautiful teenage tits, wearing no bra, of course. Then her pants came off. Before Joe could say “fuck me!” she was riding Bill like a bucking swordfish. “OH YEAH!” she screamed, a little too loud to be a representation of what she was really feeling. But it worked anyway, as Bill pulled out of her tight little cunt and blasted a good Extends load all over her sweet little face.
“My turn now, baby.” Joe said, as he was already naked, he grabbed the little hooker and made her suck his tits. “Yeah, suck my titties. Yeah baby, suck em good. Now bite my nipples. Oh yeah, now down to my belly button. Stick your tongue all the way in there…….oh! yeah! Now lick my cock….”
And so she followed his command. “MMMM……are you going to cum soon?” She politely asked him, “I want to taste your sperm, Joey.”
“You got it,” and so Joe shot a big load of white spunk down her throat.
“Oh, yeah, that tastes like……boy….” She said.
“Baby, let me just lick your pussy a little bit..”
“Well, ok, but I think Bill shot a little cum in there, so just be careful not to taste that…”
“Oh, never mind that, Bill and I get together every couple of weeks and do the same thing. I know what he tastes like already. He tastes ok, but not as good at J.C.?
“What??!”
“Yeah, hasn’t he told you, he’s bi. And he loves fat dudes. Well, honey, I’d let you stay longer, but ski season is finally here.”
“Whatever that meant.”
“Here’s ten “more” bucks,” Bill said, putting on his pants. “Call a cab.”
And so she did, wiping her brow to get the dripping sweat off, not from doing these dudes, but from getting out of a very sticky situation. She got into the cab and told the dude to take her to Bed Bath and Beyond. In the meantime, Bill and Joe got out their big bag of powder cocaine and snorted away until their dicks had shriveled up and they couldn’t stop talking about getting their hands on that Wendy girl, and they all knew that she was taking more money than Abby. She was going to get painted white. But first, they were determined to finish off Big Joe’s big bag.