First robbery—and what a success...

So, this is my first bank robbery ever. Fun, right? The adrenaline is pumping, my hands are shaking, my eyes are darting around. I feel like after all this, I'll just have to get high on something. Or get drunk. Or something else.

The main thing is to do everything as I planned: mask, cameras, partner later, money, getaway. I put the mask on my face right before entering the bank, the gun is in the inner pocket of my jacket, a black backpack on my back, into which the damn teller will stuff the money. Of course, the money will go to a good cause. Okay, the countdown has begun.

The door swings open, and everyone in the bank hears my shout: "Everyone face down on the floor!". Everyone drops down,

as if mowed down, someone screams softly, but the gun in my hand proves to be a weighty argument for silence. I shoot the cameras, one, two, three. With a quick motion, I toss the backpack to one of the teller counters, at that moment another person runs out from the back rooms—my partner, Tony. I point the gun at the old teller, gesturing to the backpack, no need to explain much. Tony approaches the teller and gives instructions about the amount we need to see in the bag in five minutes.

I look around. Nervously. Very nervously. There aren't many customers, they're all lying like meek little sheep. Except for one girl looking at me with such horror in her eyes that I'm afraid she might just drop dead. I love that. I love the fear in their eyes.

Meanwhile, the teller is halfway through filling our backpack with money. We'll leave by different routes—I'll head with the money to where Tony came from, and he'll go through the main entrance. He has an empty backpack with him. I look at Tony and say, "I'm going to need a hostage." Tony doesn't immediately understand why; it wasn't part of the original plan. Although, maybe he never did understand.

The money is ready. I quickly walk over to that girl with the fear in her eyes, grab her by the arm with a jerk, and pull her up. She screams, managing to get only to her knees, leaning on the floor with her hands. You know, that position men love the most. Yeah, she'll do. Maybe I won't even need alcohol today. With another jerk, I pull her up and, gripping her shoulder tightly with my hand, lead her towards the entrance to the bank's back rooms; Tony follows me. Five minutes later, the three of us disappear into them. The girl isn't wailing; seems she's lost her voice from fear.

— Are you taking her with you or what?" Tony asks.

— Yeah, so what?" I say. Tony shrugs and hands me the backpack with the money, then exits the long corridor. I know where the emergency exit is in this bank. I know this bank more than well. I know where I can go with this beauty.

I turn to her; the first thing that catches my eye is her look of utter horror. She isn't screaming, she isn't begging, but there's such fear in her eyes, as if she's seeing death incarnate before her. She has dark hair, and she barely comes up to my shoulder in height. Her appearance is clearly not European; she looks like some kind of Eastern beauty. Just what I need.

— Look, I only need one thing from you, basically. porn stories Actually, two. If you do everything well, you won't find out how painful it is to get a bullet in the forehead. Maybe you'll even like it," I tell her. Did I mention the fear in her eyes? Well, now there's even more of it. She hesitantly offers me her purse, and I shake my head. Yeah, she understood right away, I'm sure. She didn't think I wanted her purse.

— No, not that," I say. She suddenly breaks free and tries to run; I had already let go of her arm. No, that won't do. I grab her by the shoulder, spin her around, and backhand her across the cheek, leaving an instant red mark. Tears are already welling up in her eyes, and she starts saying something like a plea for me not to do anything to her.

I don't listen to her words, leading her further down the corridor, which turns left. At one point, I see a slightly ajar office door, shove her inside, simultaneously closing the door behind me. I toss the money backpack on the floor, push the girl towards one of the desks. She crouches down, covers her face with her hands, and starts crying silently. I walk over to her and squat down, pulling the gun from my jacket at the same time.

— I hope you've already understood the rules of the game," I say, pressing the barrel to her forehead. There's a plea in her eyes; I almost feel a little sorry for her. I stand up, unzip my jeans, and pull them down slightly. She tries not to even look in the direction of the cock standing over her head. I grab her by the hair and pull her towards it. She's already crying, the streaks from her running mascara forming two black lines on her cheeks. I shove the gun back into my jacket, and with my now free hand, guide her mouth to my cock.

— And be careful with your teeth, sweetie," I say in a gentle voice, pushing my cock into her mouth. With my left hand, I wrap her hair around my fist, and with my right, I hold her head, moving it back and forth. She's no longer trying to resist, just silently crying and sucking. That's for the best.

— Get up," I say sharply to her, accompanying the order with a slap on the cheek. With a characteristic smack, my cock leaves her mouth, and I abruptly pull her to her feet. There's a desk nearby. I turn the girl around and push her onto it; she falls, ending up in that favorite position. And at that moment, she starts screaming piercingly. Too bad she doesn't understand that it turns me on even more. Too bad for her.

I hike up her skirt, pull down her panties. With my hand, I feel that she's wet, though not very.

— So why are you screaming then, sweetie?" With these words, I spread her legs wider with a few slaps and enter her. She screams again.

Shouting at her to shut up, I thrust into her fully. I start moving slowly at first, then it gets to the point where the slapping of our bodies echoes throughout the office. She, by the way, has stopped screaming; now she's just whimpering softly. She's so hot and tight inside that I can't last more than ten minutes. I lie on top of her so I can smell her hair. Thrusting into her as deep as possible, I come inside the girl. I see she's crying, just silently biting her hand—apparently, it hurt her. Her makeup is all smeared, and her eyes are red from crying.

I get up, pull out of her, zip up.

— Well, don't cry too much, okay? Things happen,"—seems I really don't know how to comfort—"If you want, you can call later. I'll leave my card in your purse.

She doesn't react. Oh well. I take the backpack, look around the office again; she's still lying in the same position I had her in. Well, whatever. She'll call, I'm sure she liked it.