Pumped

After another wild night out, I crashed at Janey’s place, which is why I was still wearing my clubbing dress the next morning.

Janey was one of those people who can go out drinking and still get to work the next day, looking none the worse for wear, but I was feeling pretty rough as she drove me home.

“Oh shit,” exclaimed Janey. “I’m almost out of gas. But we got to make it a quick stop, all right? I can’t be late for work again or my boss will have a fit.”

“Fine by me,” I said with a yawn.

I guess I must have done a lot of dancing the night before because my thigh muscles were burning. As I reached down to massage my upper leg, I remembered that my panties had gone missing. Janey had woken me up at the crack of dawn, and in the rush to get out the door, I hadn’t been able to find them. But that was okay as I was going straight to bed once I got home.

“I’m going to go run inside and get a coffee,” said Janey after pulling up at the pump. “You want anything?”

“Nah, I’m good,” I said. “Wait, maybe a donut or a muffin or something. I’m kinda hungry.”

“Fine,” said Janey, hopping out of the car. “But you pump the gas. I’ll put twenty dollars on it.”

“Ugh,” I said with a groan as I climbed out of the passenger side and closed the door.

I really couldn’t understand how anyone could function at such an early hour, but traffic was whizzing by on the street, and there were plenty of customers coming in and out of the convenience store attached to the gas station. I took the pump out of its cradle, but then it took me a minute to figure out how to get the little flap open on Janey’s car.

I then pressed the trigger and waited. There was a chilly breeze blowing, so I guess I must’ve been wiggling my legs a bit in order to stay warm. I only started feeling self-conscious about it when I looked over and saw a man staring at me.

He was older, maybe in his late 30s or early 40s, with a decent body, dressed in jeans and a loose knit shirt. But what really caught my eye was the cocky expression on his face, as if he owned the whole damn gas station and everyone in it, including me.

“Hmm. I didn’t realize it was slut o’clock already,” he said with a chuckle, looking right in my eyes.

“What?” I said, immediately outraged. I mean sure, my dress was kind of skimpy, but that still didn’t give him the right to say something like that to me.

“It’s okay,” said the man, giving me a confident smile. “I know exactly how to handle your type.”

“Um, there is no type,” I said, discreetly reaching down with one hand to tug my dress down.

“Sure there is,” said the man, still grinning at me as if his behavior were perfectly acceptable. “I saw you wiggling your ass around. Trying to make me guess what color panties you have on, weren’t you?”

“Well, bad news for you, mister,” I said, my cheeks growing warm. “Because I’m not wearing any underwear.”

“Ha! You see?” said the man, pretending to look at a non-existent watch on his wrist. “Slut o’clock.”

“Hey!” I said even as a strange little shiver ran down my spine.

“Here, let me help you,” said the man, coming over and taking the pump out of my hand. I guess I should’ve resisted, but I was just too shocked by his forwardness. “A girl like you needs a man like me.”

“Um, no I don’t,” I said, crossing my arms to hide the fact that my nipples were rock hard.

“Sure, you do,” said the man with a nod. “You’ve got the looks and the attitude, and I’ve got the money and the experience. We go together like mac n’ cheese.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said.

“Oh, yes you do,” said the man. “Let’s see. You’re wearing a whore’s uniform, but no working girl would be out this early. My guess is you went out clubbing last night and now you’re doing the walk of shame.”

“Um, for your information,” I retorted, one hand on my hip. “My friend is giving me a ride home. And what I did last night is none of your business.”

“Hmm,” said the man, peering into Janey’s car. “I saw you get out of the passenger side, and that’s definitely a woman’s car. So yeah, looks like you struck out. What a shame, eh?”

“Hey!” I said. “What gives you the right to talk to me like that?”

“I told you, darling,” said the man, the cocky grin on his face infuriating me. “You’re a slut, and I’m the answer to your prayers.”

“I am not a slut!” I said, cringing as I looked around to see if anyone had overheard me.

“Well, let’s see,” said the man, reaching out to touch the side of my boobs through my dress. “Yep, no bra on. And we’ve already established you aren’t wearing panties. Face it, you’re a natural-born slut.”

“You better leave me alone,” I said, shocked that he had the audacity to touch me uninvited like that. “Or I’ll call the cops.”

“No, I don’t think that you will,” said the man, his eyes freely roaming up and down my body in a way that no one had ever done before. “You’ve been waiting for a guy like me. In fact, your pussy is getting wet as we speak.”

“Well, that’s where you’re wrong,” I retorted. “I think you’re some kind of pervert, coming over here and talking to a girl half your age. You ought to be ashamed of yourself!”

“Nothing to be ashamed of, darling,” said the man. “Just like the fact that you’re dripping down your leg. It’s just part of who we are.”

“You... you...” I said, struggling to find the words to tell him how outrageous he was being.

“Tell you what,” said the man, taking the pump out of Janey’s car and returning it to its cradle. “Why don’t you take a seat in that car and spread your legs to prove me wrong?”

“What? You’re crazy!” I said, glancing over at the convenience store to see if I could spot Janey, but there was no sign of her.

“It’ll only take a second,” said the man, giving me a cocky grin. “Now do what you do best and show me that pussy of yours. Come on, I know you shaved before going out in a dress like that.”

“Fine!” I said, my blood boiling with indignation.