I can’t help it, I have to have them all. Beth at FootJoy. Willowy. Blue-eyed. Blonde. We do it standing up in a secret storeroom. When she comes, shelves rattle, boxes flutter and fall.

Roxanne from the jewelry boutique. Red hair in crazy ringlets. She borrows a ping-pong paddle from sporting goods and I wallop her butt but good—pink to red to redder—almost as red as the fiery curls of her pubic hair peeking through the enflamed lips of her snug little sex. I spank her until neither of us knows where we are, but it doesn’t matter; all that matters are the paddle marks on her peachy bottom and the heat of her cunt when I sink into her.

Nina, the petite brunette in furniture, has soft round breasts and a cheerleader ass. We wait until after-hours to try out the couches, loveseats, and beds. “We’ve got a new four-poster,” she tells me. “Chubby angels on the canopy. They’re cute as your you-know-whats. Or maybe we should try something more modern.” Her slinky gown slips down. That naughty smile! Those jutting nipples!

She makes up a bed with something silver and silky. What a clever tongue Nina has. What lewd eyes and pearly teeth. We feast upon each other. She lifts her legs when she comes and growls like bears eating bunnies.

Afterwards we borrow a camera from electronics to film the wetspot. “So much cum!” she exclaims in a gleeful whisper. “This one looks like Indiana.” When we’ve collected all fifty states, we’ll get married. We’ll have Beth and Roxanne as bridesmaids, and together we’ll all live happily ever after.

I push the broom past the restroom. My prick is stiff as its handle but three times as thick. If women’s is empty, I’ll put up the sign and invite Maryanne from bookkeeping in for a quickie.