#marcus white

You caught him staring at you whenever he came out to the floor, which he seemed to do a lot when you were working. You'd spoken to Cheyenne about it, and she said that he almost never came out of the warehouse on days that you didn't have a shift.

It got to a point where he would not-so-subtly follow you to your car at night. It creeped you out at first, but eventually, when he never once approached you or tried anything, you realized it was his weird, roundabout way of making sure you got to your car safely.

One time, you actually caught him taking a picture of you. You were fully clothed and just standing there, so you doubted it was for any nefarious, perverted reasons, so you just blew it off. Little did you know, he would jerk off to that simple picture of you every night. And it wasn't the only picture he had.

To be honest, it probably would have freaked you out more if you weren't lowkey into him. You had been going through a dry spell, both romantically and sexually, due to you being so swamped with both school and work, that you almost liked the attention. You welcomed it.

So, when he asked you out for drinks, after never having spoken more than three words to you before, you shrugged and said, "Why not?" Cheyenne overheard, though, and she invited herself, Mateo, and anyone else nearby to come along. It turned into an after work coworkers hang out, when it was supposed to be only you and Marcus. You felt a strange pang of disappointment that it wouldn't be just the two of you.

You were drinking and dancing with Cheyenne and Mateo, all the while eyeing Marcus flirtatiously. You hoped he would just get the hint and come dance with you already, but he just continued to sip at his beer and stare at you. He seemed entranced by the way your body moved, and you found yourself performing for him a little.

Justine sat next to him, downing her glass of wine and trailing a finger up his arm, but he blew her off. Over the rim of his beer bottle, he watched you move like a predator hunting his prey. His eyes roamed up and down your body as it moved in time to the beating of the house music. You held eye contact with him as you danced, silently urging him to come to you. Eventually, he seemed to get the hint.

He downed the rest of his beer before moving to the edge of the dance floor. You beckoned him to you with your finger, and he awkwardly danced over to you. You giggled at the way his body jerked, and you spotted a light blush dusting his cheeks even in the dark of the club.

Once he made his way to you, you wasted no time. You ran a hand from his shoulder down to his stomach. The muscles of his abdomen tensed under your touch. You were much more forward, now that you were tipsy and leaning toward drunkenness. Luckily, it seemed so was he.

He was still in his work clothes, but you had to admit that something about the warehouse uniform did something to you. You began to sway slowly, and you took his hands in your own and placed them over your hips. You led him in a slow, sensual dance. His hands on your hips, yours around his shoulders. He looked so nervous, but when he shot you a lopsided smile, you couldn't help the butterflies that shot through you. You leaned in close to his ear and whispered over the music so that only he could hear, "I see the way you look at me." He reared back, startled and embarrassed, but you pulled him closer. "You want to fuck me, don't you?" you purred before nipping at his earlobe. You could feel him grow hard against you. "Well, come on then."

You took the opportunity to quickly grind against his thick bulge. He let out a moan right there, in the middle of the dance floor, but luckily, only you seemed to have heard it. You would have continued to tease him if you weren't actively getting wetter and wetter at the feeling of his hardening cock pressed into you.

You grabbed his hand and led him off the floor and towards the bathroom. You glanced back, to make sure no one was watching your little getaway, only to see that Marcus' eyes were wide, his face was blazing red, and his pants were tight-fitting in a way that made him stumble as he followed after you. You giggled as you opened the bathroom door and pulled him inside.

He hurried in after you, pulling the door closed and locking it. You dropped his hand and made your way over to the sink counter which you backed up to and hopped on, facing him. You spread your legs enticingly, allowing the short skirt you were wearing to ride up your thighs and expose your clothed cunt to him. He jaw dropped slightly agape at the sight. Once more, you beckoned him closer, and he obeyed by closing the distance between himself and the counter you were sitting on. He instantly wedged himself between your open thighs, his hard-on pressing into the wet spot on your panties.

You looked up at him through your eyelashes, and you asked him, "So, you gonna fuck me or what?"

"Dirty mouth," he muttered with a smirk. They were some of the first words he had ever spoken directly to you, and they sent a shudder down your spine. He quickly unbuckled his belt, undid the zipper of his pants, and pulled out his cock. The sight of it made you gasp. It wasn't particularly long—a little above average maybe—but it was the girth that shocked you. His cock was big and thick, and deliciously veiny. You weren't sure you'd be able to take it, but before you could open your mouth, he was shoving your panties to the side and sticking his pink, bulbous tip in.

"Fuck!" you cursed under your breath. As he pushed further into you, you gripped his biceps so hard that you left half-moon divots in his skin with your nails. His thickness spread the walls of your pussy, and you gasped in pain that quickly turned to pleasure as he bottomed out inside you.

"You're so tight," he groaned into your hair. You looked up at him and turned him to face you as he started rutting into you at a slow pace. You grabbed his jaw and smashed your lips onto his. It was a hungry kiss, with no emotions behind it. At least, none on your end.

Marcus, however, kissed you like he was in love with you. It freaked you out a bit, but you ignored it as he deepened the kiss, pushing his tongue past your lips and into your mouth. You let him take over as you lost yourself in the feeling of his dick pounding into you. He was speeding up now, and you could tell that he probably wouldn't last much longer.

"Wanna see my tits?" you panted as you pulled away from the kiss, a line of spit connecting your two mouths. His eyes opened wide, and he nodded so hard that the momentum of it almost pulled him out of you. Your pussy clenched around him, unwilling to let him go, as you lifted your shirt up over your breasts and pulled your bra down under them.

He instantly cupped one in his hand before his mouth found itself sucking on the other one. You drew back, almost falling into the bowl of the sink, at the prickle of pleasure that shot from your nipple to your core. You lowered a hand down to your aching cunt and began rubbing hard and fast circles onto your clit. He fucked up into you at an even more exhausting pace, and you could feel your climax building faster within you. The stutter of his hips told you that he was close, too.

The sounds of your moans, his groans, and the wet plapping of his dick ramming in and out of your sopping pussy was all that you could hear as they rang out in the silence of the bathroom. You were sure that if the music wasn't blaring outside the door, everyone in the nightclub would have heard you.

Marcus said your name then, and you were cumming. He muttered out strings of praise, muffled by his mouth on your tit. You called out, "Marcus!" and that was enough to send him over the edge. Before you could tell him to pull out because you couldn't afford birth control on your measly salary, he was shooting hot spurts of his thick, white cum inside of you. You had to admit, the feeling of being filled by him was intoxicating, and you momentarily forgot about the panic.

He softened inside you as his balls drained themselves. He continued to kiss your breast, even as you lightly pushed him off you. Now that you had come down from your high, you were wondering if you should be feeling a sense of regret for the hookup. It was clear that this meant something more to Marcus than it did to you, but you felt bad about that fact. He was a sweet guy, if not a little weird, and you didn't want to hurt his feelings. He just seemed to like you a lot more than you liked him.

"Okay, down boy," you told him as you patted his chest. He seemed to finally get the hint, and he pulled out of you and retreated from where he had left hickeys on your breast. You readjusted yourself, pulling your bra up and your shirt down over your tits and moving your panties back to cover your leaking pussy. You knew that your panties were going to be soaking the rest of the night. You climbed down off the counter, and Marcus took a step back, with a lovestruck, lopsided smile on his face. You smiled back at him and said, with a hint of sincerity, "Let's do this again sometime," and you walked out of the bathroom, leaving him in your dust.

Two weeks later, your period was late. Frantic and panicking, you pulled Cheyenne to the side during a break on one of your shared shifts.

"Chey, my period's late," you whispered to her.

"You don't think?" she asked you. She was the only person you had told about what happened with you and Marcus that night.

"God, I don't know. Do you think I should take a test?"

"Yeah, for sure," she said. "Here, I always keep an extra with me." She pulled out a pregnancy test from her bag, and you looked at her with a furrowed brow of confusion. "What? The hot pharmacist gives me a discount." You just rolled your eyes and took the box discretely before hurrying to the staff restroom.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you said as you sat on the toilet, positive pregnancy test in hand.

"You alright in there?" you heard a voice call from the other side of the locked door. Shit. It was Marcus. You quickly wrapped the stick in toilet paper before shoving it in the trash bin.

"Yep!" you answered. "All good!" You quickly washed your hands, not even bothering to dry them in your rush to get out of there. As you unlocked the door, you were met with his big, brown eyes boring holes into yours. "Uh, hi, Marcus," you stammered as you scooted past him. "Bye, Marcus!" you said as you briskly walked away. You looked back over your shoulder to see him walking into the bathroom after you.

How were you going to tell him?

"What's this?" Later that day, Marcus approached you with something in hand. You whipped around. You were working the register, but his voice startled you so badly that you dropped the bottle of orange juice you were ringing up for an old lady. It didn't spill, and you sighed gratefully before picking it up. As you rose from the ground, you finally saw what it was that Marcus was holding.

It was your pregnancy test.

"Where did you get that?" you whispered, your voice cracking.

"Bathroom. Does this mean what I think it means?"

"That's not mine," you automatically defended. You looked around for any help but were met with the prying eyes of customers and coworkers alike. Tears began springing to your eyes, and Marus knew that you were lying.

"Am I going to be a papa?" he asked with a twinkle in his eyes and a growing grin. He was happy? He didn't hate you?

"Congratulations!" the elderly woman you were ringing up said as she started to clap. Oh my god, you thought. You were mortified.

What were you going to do?