Checkout Girl

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Dishonesty as a survival ploy leads to high class prostitute.
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ukresearcher
ukresearcher
1,440 Followers

Sophie is God's gift to mankind and I am the lucky sod who snapped her up to be mine but to be honest, at eighteen years old she had not yet blossomed into the glorious creature that she was to become. Right at the start she admitted to having slept with two guys before me. I was glad about this because I had been told that girls who marry as virgins, ten years further on invariably begin to wonder what they have missed and start playing around. Her background was genteel but impoverished and because of this further education was just not on the cards so she started working in a supermarket straight from school and was still in the same job (but not the same place of employment) right up to the start of this story.

I am five years older. I am not at all stupid but I have not done very well at all educationally. My mind can accommodate vast amounts of trivia and detailed conversations from long ago but it is no damn use for storing the kind of data needed for exams. I went through a succession of jobs but eventually finished up in the accounts department of a medium sized firm and there I stuck. My early hobby was motor bikes (the off road kind) and for a very long time I was more preoccupied with chasing the bike in front rather than girls. Then I had a nasty accident that made a mess of both my legs. It took over a year in hospital for my legs to be sorted and it took far longer to repair the damage to my self confidence. So by the time that I met my future wife, although I knew my way around a woman's body, I was a long way from being able to claim vast experience. My other sporting passion was football.

My dad had started me off supporting the local team as a kid and although bike racing is now a distant memory my fanaticism for the beautiful game is as strong as ever.

As well as looking like a wet dream fantasy, Sophie is a natural for sex - she loves it. I used to suspect that she was over sexed - not that I was grumbling. Insatiable - many is the time that her motor has still been ticking merrily when the battery driving my tool has gone extremely flat. She read all the books Kama Sutra, Perfumed garden together with sex articles in Cosmo and other similar magazines - and everything that she read she immediately wanted to try with me. Not that she depended on outside inspiration because she was very innovative. Sometimes when she would do something completely new, I would look at her suspiciously and ask who had taught her that trick. "Nobody taught me," she would say, slightly offended, "Sitting at the checkout this morning I was thinking, and it just seemed to me that it might feel rather nice."

Throughout the marriage we have bonked at least twice a day more often than not and also spent many pleasurable hours in other sexual activity. We are both heavily into oral. Sophie would sit with legs spread and cunt gaping like a split ripe fruit, content to allow me to spend a blissful eternity sucking the nectar from within. She reciprocates by spending ages patiently milking my cock and as they appear, scooping up each globule of pre-cum with her tongue and often saying, "I love it so much Simon - it's like a very special kind of honey." She is also devastating with the full blow-job. Until I started reading porn stories I never realised that there was a technique to giving deep throat because right from the start she has swallowed my reasonable sized equipment without the slightest sign of trouble. Sophie has swallowed my cum loads of times but she does have a predilection for removing her mouth at the last second and letting it squirt on her chest. Recently after doing this, she enthused, "God I do like the smell of spunk, especially if it smeared all over my tits. The trouble is that it makes me so randy that I want a cock back inside me immediately and you are always out of action."

I laughed, joking, "What you need is two blokes, one to fuck you while the other recovers."

"That would be lovely," she agreed but then, looking guilelessly into my eyes she asked, "But wouldn't you mind?"

"Too damn true I'd mind," I said and then she laughed too - but it disturbed me that I had actually found the idea far more attractive than I should.

Even before the wedding we had agreed to buy a house as soon as possible but started married life in a flat. To rent a decent flat would have left little to put in the building society so we took a really grotty flat and started saving like mad, hoping that it would not be for long. We were actually there four years because every time we nearly had enough, the price of houses jumped up again. As a couple, we lived simply and seldom went out, for a time we didn't even hire a TV but as mentioned above, we were happy to make our own entertainment. My only real outside indulgence was to try to get along to the terraces whenever my team had a Saturday home game.

The office where I worked is split into three teams, each including a team leader. There are seven man credit and purchases teams and a four man ad hoc team - I am in credit. As it happened, the office manager Bill was also an avid football supporter and even though he could afford an expensive seat for a match, he often came to stand with me - so even though he was far superior to me at work, we struck up a kind of friendship. He knew that I spent a lot of time perusing estate agents windows and one Saturday told me "There's a nice house for sale not far from me and it is going really cheap. The guy selling has to work abroad so he is going for a quick sale."

I listened with interest to a description of the house but as soon as I heard the price I shook my head saying that I could not afford the repayments. "I shouldn't really tell you this," Bill confided, "- but Joan your team leader has just found out that she is pregnant. She's going to work as long as she can but then she's leaving for good. When that happens I am going to promote you to her position and that will mean a 30% increase in salary for you." Bill also went on to say that he would tell enquirers that I was already on that pay scale, if it would help me to secure a mortgage.

Three months later we moved into our own house and happily set about furnishing it. That happiness was to last for just less than a month before the world started to collapse around us. The start of the sequence came when Bill was involved in a horrific motorway pile up. He was not actually killed but it would have been far kinder if he had been. The team leader of the Ad Hoc team was promoted to replace him and the remainder of that team split between the other two. A month later when Joan left, the new manager chose one of his old group to lead the credit team instead of me and a week later an identical house across the street was put up for sale at a price £5000 less than I had paid. A quick trip round the estate agent windows showed that all houses were being drastically reduced and over the next few days every newspaper was running articles on how the bottom had dropped out of the property market with a vengeance. At the end of the month the standing order mortgage payment reduced our bank account to zero and we were in desperate trouble.

I did loads of calculation and having concluded that there was no escaping the truth I gave my conclusions to Sophie. Phrasing it more jocularly than I felt, I said, "We can just about scrape by if we stop eating."

Just before bedtime, Sophie came up with a possible partial answer saying, "Some of the other girls at the supermarket have got little fiddles going and I can start doing the same. We aren't meant to let family and friends come though our checkouts but nobody at work knows you are married to me. If you do the shopping on Friday evening and come to me, I will push some things through without scanning them."

It was a matter of survival so that is what we did. At first, very nervously she skipped just one or two items, but that was like baling a sinking ship using only a teaspoon. So it escalated as we got bolder and soon we were only paying half of what we should - and later a mere third. We developed several different scams. For instance, I would group eight identical cans, Sophie scanned the first and then following procedure, typed the actual number on the till - but instead of typing 8 she hit 2 and pushed the whole lot through to me. More complicated, we removed the bar codes from several low priced items we had at home and constructed a little flip file. Using this, whenever I had put something expensive on the conveyor, she would scan in one of the dummy bar codes instead, being careful to hide what she was doing from the overhead CCTV camera.

I hated the Friday evening visits to the supermarket because like Sophie I had no previous experience of being dishonest. Even before I got to my wife's checkout my nerves were stretch to breaking point, then when putting the items onto the moving belt I had to grit my teeth to stop visibly trembling. Usually as I walk away having paid I heave a sigh of relief but this time I almost collapsed with shock seeing Derek, Sophie's supervisor standing nearby partly concealed behind a roof supporting column. Despite telling myself that I was imaging it - I knew that he was definitely surveying the volume of my purchases with more than a passing interest.

I went home feeling more than simple unease. I did manage to make myself a hot drink but then paced the floor, unable to relax for the hour before Sophie got home. When she came in her face was very drawn - but then she always did find Friday's more tiring than other shifts. "Was everything all right?" I blurted out the moment that I saw her.

She shook her head. "No it's not all right, Derek knows - he caught me. The moment that you had gone he closed down my checkout and took me to the office. He said that what I had done was an immediate sacking offence and the management was almost certain to prosecute. That's not just me because Derek said you were involved as well - and that might mean trouble with your job." At that point I should have taken my wife in my arms to comfort her but instead I flopped into a chair, mentally unable to cope with the calamity that had overtaken us. "I cried and pleaded with him," Sophie went on in a flat voice, "I said that this was the first time and that we would take everything back to the store. He didn't believe me. He said that he had been watching us for a week or two - that must be true because he mentioned a trick that we didn't use this time."

I swallowed and managed to say, "So he sacked you and now we have to sit and wait for the police to come?"

"No, it's not quite that bad - at least not for the moment."

I was lost. "I don't understand, "I mumbled.

Sophie sat on the arm of the chair and took hold of my hand. "Derek likes me - I've been able to tell that from his eyes ever since I first started there. In the office he was almost as upset as me - he kept saying how much he hated being put in that position. I begged him to just let me resign and leave without any pay - that's what I am hoping he will let happen. He is going to think what he should do overnight and tell me what he has decided tomorrow. I have work as usual tomorrow morning, then when I finish at one o'clock, go round to his flat to find out the decision. "

Despite the gleam of hope that this offered I did not like the bit about her supervisor's flat. "Why can't he just tell you one way or another when you get to work, I don't see why you have to go round to his flat?"

"That's easy - it's to protect me by not letting the other girls know what as happened and it is also to protect him if he does find himself able to be a bit lenient."

I still don't like it," I said. "I think that when he gets you alone in his flat he is going to try something. If you go to his flat then I am coming with you. He can say what he has to say to both of us."

"That would just ruin everything. Derek doesn't like you - he thinks this is all your fault. He said that if he does avoid doing what he should do then it is for my sake and certainly not yours. Anyway, I can look after myself. You go to your football match as planned - it may the last one you see for a long time."

That was how it was left. It was a very subdued mood that we took to bed. We lay just touching but did not have sex or make love. Possibly both of us lay awake for a while because we overslept next morning and it was a mad dash to get Sophie to work by 8 a.m. Alone at home I proceeded with my usual tasks but with my mind preoccupied with the problem. The more I thought about it then the more optimistic I felt. Looking at it logically, if the worst case scenario of dismissal and prosecution was to be invoked then it should have been done immediately. The fact that Derek had delayed made him at least partly culpable and I felt that this virtually guaranteed a reasonably favourable outcome. Loss of my wife's wages for the week would be a blow but I felt it almost certain that she would quickly find another job.

This optimism carried me to the football match, the first half of which was very boring. Following my earlier train of thought, I argued that if I was correct so far then the requirement for Sophie to visit his flat had to have a sexual motive. I wished that I did not know what Derek looked like because it was all to easy to imagine him in bed with my wife. Inevitably my mental visions progressed to Sophie kneeling before him with his cock in her mouth, her bending over a chair with her skirt rucked up as he sank his shaft into her exposed cunt - and a whole series of other sexual activities. Thankfully the game came alive in the second half with the home team eventually winning 3 - 2. I travelled home filled with the euphoria of victory, my wife's appointment at the flat momentarily forgotten.

Sophie was actually singing in the kitchen when I walked in. Seeing me she put down the saucepan of hot vegetables then ran to throw her arms round my neck and give me a big kiss. "It's all right - Derek said that I can even keep my job. I promised never to do it again so he is not going to say anything."

I was about to query this miracle but she said, "I'll tell you in a minute or two when I've got your dinner served. How did tour team do by the way?"

"We won," I told her then went to sit at the table, unsure whether to be relieved or worried.

When we both seated I again tried to question her but she put me off saying that the food was too good to spoil with conversation. So it was it was not until I had made us both a cup of tea that I had chance to seek clarification. Even then Sophie got in first to say, "Derek noticed you always going through my checkout every Friday but thought nothing of it until he saw us together down by the river one Sunday. It suddenly added up for him and he has been watching ever since. He said that if it had been just an odd item he wouldn't have said anything but we were too damn blatant. He also said that it was sheer stupidity to pay with a credit card because that got my name printed on the incriminating till roll. That was what made it difficult for him to go easy with me because it would put his job at risk for failing his duty. Derek said, 'Why should I when I got nothing out of it?' and I had to agree with his point of view."

"But you managed to persuade him," I said with a touch of admiration, "How the hell did you do that?"

Sophie hesitated, took a deep breath and then admitted, "Well I did have to be a bit nice to him."

"A bit nice," I repeated, "What do you mean by that?"

"You know."

"No I don't know," I said. "Tell me."

My wife's face went very pink as she struggled with different phrases and then in a rush of words she told me, "I had to let him fuck me - is that what you wanted me to say?"

"No," I told her honestly, " - that is the very last thing that I wanted you to say. Why?"

"I had no choice. If I hadn't, I was going to lose my job, you would probably lose yours as well when they found out, we might be heavily fined and would certainly lose the house. Compared to that, what I did to save us seemed such a little thing."

"I don't believe that any of that would have happened if you had refused," I told her coldly. "I've thought it through. Derek had left it too late to report you - the worst he could do was accept your offer to resign. We are probably going to lose the house any way - it's either that or stop eating and now I have the extra burden of knowing that you have been unfaithful to me."

"It wasn't being unfaithful. I didn't want to do it and it was only thinking of us that made me agree so it can't possibly be called cheating. I just lay there for the fifteen minutes that it took. I didn't enjoy it one little bit and I know that Derek was very disappointed - he said that he hopes I will be more enthusiastic next time."

"Next time?" I shouted. "When you just told me you had sex with him, I thought that was it to save your job."

"That's what I thought too while he was doing it to me but after Derek said, 'Next time' he explained that I had to keep on meeting him every Saturday."

Even though what I had imagined at the match had actually happened, (probably at the very instant that the vision was in my head), I was now almost prepared to discount the sex that had already occurred. My more immediate concern now being to prevent my wife opening her legs for this man week after week. "You are not going near him again," I told her firmly. "It's all one big bluff - he has conned you. There's not a damn thing he can do about it now without involving himself."

"You're wrong," Sophie told me shaking her head sadly. "Derek has got stacks of evidence - he showed me. He pulled the overhead video to stop it being recycled and he's dug out the till rolls for my checkout covering the last six months. He can show how long we have been doing it with all the different fiddles and can show roughly how much money we have defrauded."

"He may have all that but he can't use it without having to explain why he did not sack you on the spot," I insisted.

"He's got that covered too. If I don't see him again, Derek claims he will turn me in and explain the delay by saying that because I was a good worker he thought a severe warning was sufficient punishment but his subsequent investigations had shown the fraud to be to big to ignore."

"I am beginning to think that you want him to keep on shagging you," I accused. "You just seem to have rolled over and agreed to his demands - didn't you put up any resistance at all?"

"That's just where you are wrong," my wife shot back with some heat. "As it happens I have got us a far better deal than he was proposing. For a start it is not going to be every week. I said that I couldn't see him at all if you knew about it so he agreed that I should only go to his flat those Saturdays that your team is playing at home." Sophie stopped for a moment and then told me honestly, "I wasn't going to tell you about being fucked today but when I found out that wasn't the end of it I had no choice because I couldn't keep on deceiving you time after time."

"That's something I suppose," I conceded reluctantly. Despite my dismissive tone it actually meant a lot to me - while at a match the play provided genuine distraction but it was unbearable to think of me waiting at home knowing that Sophie was on her back in Derek's bed, rattling the bedsprings.

"That's not all. I told Derek how poor we were and how I only cheated the store to get food to eat. I think he was a bit shocked and I don't know what he plans but he has told me to do my weeks shop at lunchtime on Friday and then call him."

Sophie's supervisor was as good as his word because Friday teatime, she rang and asked me to pick her up from work as she had a load of shopping. Unpacking it at home it was easy to see that there was far more than we usually got - and included was a good sized bottle of whiskey. I held this up and raised my eyebrows. "Derek put that in himself," Sophie explained, " - he said it was for my long suffering husband so it looks like he doesn't dislike you so much any more. Anyway it was so easy for him compared to what we used to do. First he opened up a spare till. Then he checked through every item and I was getting worried that he would make me pay - but at the end he wrote on the till roll, ' Invalid credit card - goods retained,' signed it, winked at me and told me to take the shopping away."

ukresearcher
ukresearcher
1,440 Followers