Foreword: This is my second story in the Food vs. Sex series. There wasn’t really any specific inspiration behind it, just an idea that was floating around in my head about a convenience store and figured I’d expand on it.
My name is Shin Komebara, and this time next Tuesday—as I reach the ripe age of forty—I will have been working at this tiny convenience store for twenty-one years. Imagine that, twenty-one whole fucking years. That’s a total of seven thousand six hundred and sixty-five days; sounds a lot longer now, doesn’t it? From morning until evening—day in, day out—pretty much the same things have happened here. People come, people go, and they come back again. Then, for some unfathomable reason they decide to relocate to some seaside town two hundred miles away. But there will always, always be new customers trickling through that door.
It’s no understatement to say that I’m comfortable spending my time wrapped up in this warm, safe cocoon of a lifestyle. Why aim for something better when everything I need is right here? I started out as a convenience store worker freshly plucked from high school, and somehow I just ended up not quitting. Was that the wisest decision I could have made? Who can say? At the time, I didn’t have a clue what I wanted to do with my life; I was that lazy, bored-out-of-their-mind teenager who was completely disillusioned with society, as were most of my friends. The only difference is, they bucked up their ideas, got their shit together and pressed on. They, at least, moved a few inches further up in ‘the world’.
You just had to have connections.
That’s all these things ever took.
Good, solid connections.
A young man has just entered the shop. His glasses are all speckled with raindrops and they’re completely misted up. How he can even see where he’s going? His bangs are draping across his forehead like a soppy mop. He’s soaked to the bone. Didn’t he even bring an umbrella with him? The rain has certainly been coming down hard today, and no matter what, it just doesn’t seem to want to let up.
I don’t usually approach customers and talk to them first. More often than not, I’m the one who’s being asked questions. But I can’t help noticing how lost this one looks. The way his shoulders are all bunched inwards makes him look so pitiful, like a puppy.
Hmm, I should go and see if he’s okay.
I walk up behind the young man, and tap him on the shoulder lightly. “Excuse me.”
He stops in place for a few seconds before pivoting slowly to face me, his eyes still covered by his sopping wet hair.
“I couldn’t help but notice you standing over here.” I beam the most professional smile I can muster. “Is there…anything I can help you with?”
He flicks the mop of hair over to one side of his face and glares back at me—or at least, that’s what I imagine he is doing behind those misted-up glasses of his. “No. Why do you ask?” His standard Japanese accent is clear and smooth, like a newscaster’s. It sounds so out of place, far too mature for someone so young.
“I hope you’re not offended, but…it doesn’t seem like you know what you’re looking for.”
He turns away again and grabs a rice wrap with fermented soy beans inside from the shelf in front of him. His grip seems rather strong. “Do not presume what I want.”
“I-I’m sorry,” I say, taken aback by his abrupt response. I motion toward the cashier desk. “Let me put that through the till for you.”
He clicks his tongue with all the disappointment of a resentful encounter. “Isn’t there someone else who can serve me?” he says, visibly gritting his teeth. “I have no use for insolent common fools like you.”
Well, the boy certainly knows how to flatter, doesn’t he?
The cocky little punk.
“Look, I’m the only person around until two o’clock, so I’m afraid that if you want to buy that natto roll you’re going to have to pay me.”
“In that case, just forget it,” he says, furrowing his brows and stuffing the thing back onto the shelf aggressively. “Keep this filthy rubbish to yourself.”
Alright, now he’s done it. Anyone who insults what I sell here needs to be taught a lesson. The joys of convenience store food are infinite. The people of Japan rely on this as a last-minute solution to their every need. He should understand that, as a citizen himself. Who the hell does he think he is?
He turns to leave, but I grab his arm and force him to meet my furious gaze. “I don’t like your attitude, boy. Not one bit.”
“Tch—who are you calling ‘boy’?” He struggles to free his arm. “Take your hands off me this instant, you inconceivable nuisance!”
“My, my, my. You are a feisty one.” I tighten my fingers around his arm. This one’s not going anywhere. “You want to insult me? Go ahead. But you had a bad attitude from the very start. What did I do to warrant such a response? I was only trying to be friendly.”
“Friendly, my ass…”
I narrow my eyes. “What did you just say?”
He coughs once. “I will not repeat myself to you.”
“Fine.” I release him. “But at least tell me why you’re acting like this.”
“This….” He casts his eyes downwards, appearing a little solemn, “is my first time entering a convenience store. I…have no idea what I want to eat. I am already drenched because I was in such a hurry to get out of that house that I forgot my umbrella. Then you came up to me, and it all felt so disingenuous, like you didn’t really have any concern for my feelings. You’re just doing your job. I’ve already had enough of people treating me like shit today. There’s no-one left I can trust. I’m done for.”
Hearing him pour everything out at once like this, a pang of guilt rises up in my chest. None of what he says excuses his erratic behaviour, but he’s clearly going through some things that are making him act out.
What if I can be the one person who gives him the benefit of the doubt?
“Alright.” I sigh and put a tentative hand on his shoulder in an attempt to reassure him. “Tell me how can I help you?”
He rubs his arm nervously. “I know…this is going to sound really suspicious coming from me, but…do you think I could maybe work here while I finish my degree? I’ll take an interview, do whatever it takes to be able to earn some money.”
Well, this is a certainly a surprise. I would have never expected to hear that question.
I scratch my temples, contemplating the prospect. “If you don’t mind me asking, and please—I’d appreciate if you didn’t lash out at me this time—how did you end up in this situation?”
“Well…actually my father owns Shimabukuro Electronics,” he says, lowering his voice.
“Shimabukuro Electronics…” I rub my chin as I consider this. They’re the most prominent electronics store in Japan. “As in the Shimabukuro Electronics?”
He nods. “You might know that things aren’t going well for them…financially.”
“Yes, now that you mention it, that’s what it said in an article I read.”
“Which newspaper was it?”
He laughs and takes off his glasses to wipe them on his equally wet jacket. His eyes remain brown cynical orbs. “The facts they publish may be negligible, but the truth of the matter is still the same. My father has been accused of funnelling money out of the company into an overseas investment fund.”
“And did he do it?” I ask, genuinely curious. “Did he steal the money?”
“N-no. Of course not! My father would never do such a thing!”
“Are you a student?” I ask, changing the subject somewhat.
“Yes.” He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, most likely to calm himself. “Third year Economics at Tokyo University.”
“Well, that’s something…”
“Originally, I chose that with the prospect of taking over the business when my father retires,” he continues. “Of course, that all feels like a bad joke right now. My living expenses have been axed by three times what they were last month.”
“How much extra do you need?”
“Let’s see…” He produces his phone, opens up the calculator app and punches some numbers into it. “At least another three hundred thousand yen each month.”
He looks up at me, dumbfounded. “Is that going to be a problem?”
“You don’t expect to earn that much money working here, do you?”
“The vast majority of the Japanese population are common folk such as yourself, so don’t convenience stores make a lot of money?”
“Yeah, sure. If you combine all the convenience stores in Japan they’d turn a very decent profit, but you won’t see that kind of money here. Besides, you’re an Economics student. Isn’t that much obvious to you?”
“That’s not my area of expertise.”
I sigh. Is this boy really as smart as he looks? I honestly have my doubts. It seems he could do with a little guidance.
“Alright,” I begin. “Here’s what I’m going to propose. If you can commit to at least twenty-five hours a week, working on the same shifts as me, I…might be able to offer to help with meals after work. After all, I know a lot about food and how to make the most of what’s in the fridge. I’ll make you see how living on a budget can be an absolute breeze.”
He covers his mouth with one of his pale hands and his eyes widen. “You’d…actually go out of your way to do that…for someone like me?”
“Someone like you?” I say, surprised he would use such terminology. “What, don’t you think you’re good enough to be my apprentice?”
“N-no, it’s just that no-one has offered to help yet. On top of that, you’re a complete stranger. It all feels so…unreal.”
I smile, warmly. “I’ll take good care of you. If you’ll let me.”
He offers a small bow in my direction. “Well, as things stand, I don’t exactly have the luxury to be picky.”
That’s a good boy. Believe me, you’ll be ab-so-lute-ly fine under my supervision.
I snap out of my brief and adequately perverted delusion. “By the way, my name is Komebara,” I say, handing over a business card. “And you are, I assume…Shimabukuro-kun?”
“Yes, but…just call me Takuto.” His cheeks are slightly rosy as he agrees to let me refer to him so casually.
“Takuto-kun.” I echo, like a parrot. “Alright then.”
“When should I start?”
“My next shift is tomorrow afternoon, from three until eight. You’ll work alongside me and I’ll get you up to speed with the basics of customer service.”
“That’s fine by me.”
Then, out of nowhere, I get a deep urge to reach out and touch him. He looks so damn cute standing there all dripping wet before me. What he probably needs is a towel to dry himself off, but my selfish side won’t let this precious sight go to waste. I look down at his chest. Although he is wearing a sweater, there’s a shirt underneath, clinging to his upper body. I steal a glance at the soft, bare skin beneath. It looks so plush and inviting. I bring a hand up and trace a line with my fingers from his handsomely protruding collarbone, all the way along his neckline and around the oval shape of his face. Yes, his skin is just exactly as soft as I had imagined. I take a moment to appreciate the primal scent he emits—a fine blend of rainwater combined with the naturally sweet-salty richness of sweat. I press my fingers very lightly to his forehead, knocking his glasses down the bridge of his nose a little.
That determined smile creeps back across my face again.
He takes a step backward, knitting his brows. “Wh-what on earth do you think you’re doing?”
I laugh. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist. You’re just my type.” The corners of my mouth curve into a devilish smirk. “Maybe that’s the real reason I came over to speak with you.”
His cheeks are burning a fierier red now. The poor boy, he’s probably more than a little confused by all this. “You’re what…twice my age?” he says, pushing his glasses more securely onto the ridge of his nose. “Practically old enough to be my father.”
“Maybe. But I’m not your father and I’ve got plenty of energy…” I lean in and whisper into his ear. “If you’re looking to get rid all that pent-up stress that is.”
He gulps hard and turns to face the fridges. “I-I need to use the toilet.”
“Look…” I grab his arm, harder than the last time, and pull him towards me. Besides us, there are no other people in the store now. “I know all too well that you’re not going in there to pee, are you?”
“I am. I very much need to pee.”
He makes for the toilet, seeming more than a little desperate to hide. I anticipate his moves and head over to the cubicle. I put my arm across the door to block him from entering and look down to see the slight bulge that seems to have swelled inside his trousers. The one I just knew was going to be there. It may only be a semi, but I made him like this and I’m sure as hell not going to let him take care of it by himself.
“Takuto-kun,” I say, checking our surroundings again. “You can’t hide how horny you are right now, and I think you’re going to have a lot of trouble getting off without a little assistance.”
He puts his hand over his nose and mouth in a futile attempt to hide his adorable, blushing expression, and averts his eyes while he covers his crotch area with the other hand. “I-I can take care of it just fine by myself, so…please, let me go in.”
I instinctively press my hand over his. Even through his skin and the material beneath, I can distinctly feel the warmth radiating from his throbbing cock. His pulse is deep and heavy enough that I can tell exactly how turned on he is. I prise his hand away and wrap my fingers around the outline of his shaft beneath his trousers, gripping it tighter and revealing just how big he really is.
“That’s one hell of a hard-on you’ve got going on.”
He bats my hand away viciously. “I said I can take care of it myself!”
“Sure you can. I don’t doubt your ability to satisfy yourself. But I want to take some form of responsibility for making you this hard.”
“Don’t get so full of yourself…” He averts his eyes. “It’s not because you made me hard. I just-”
“Do you mean to tell me you got turned on for no reason at all?” I tip my head to one side while I try to figure this guy out. “I don’t believe you, not for a second.”
“N-no really, it’s not you. It’s…it’s the fish sausages. I was getting hungry and they looked tasty so-”
I let out a hefty belter of a laugh. It’s so hefty that I have to hold my belly to stop my insides from moving around too much. “Fish sausages!? Y-you got hard because of fish sausages?”
“Alright, make fun of me all you like,” he says, arms crossed. “But I just had to prove it wasn’t you.”
He has to be joking about all this, right?
Still, this gives me an idea.
I swipe one of the fish sausages from the hook and grab Takuto by the arm, dragging him into the toilet cubicle, before he can even take another breath.
“W-what are you doing?”
I hold the fish sausage packet up so he can see. “You want this, don’t you?”
“I…don’t know. I’ve never tried one before.”
I strip away the packaging and whip the sausage out, letting it flomp around in the air. I shove it deep into his mouth. “There. How does it taste?”
As if by clockwork, and as though I have completely disappeared, he runs his tongue along the underside of the sausage. He laps hungrily at it in decisive circles, coating the thing completely with his juicy saliva. He closes his eyes, purses his lips and begins to suck lightly. Small, yet sensual moans escape from his throat as he simply lets go of reality and immerses himself in this literal sausage fellatio. The wet sounds he makes as he withdraws and latches back on certainly aren’t helping stave off my interest, and I feel myself twitch with anticipation. He is like a different person entirely.
Such an obedient boy.
“Does it taste good?”
He looks up at me, mouthful of meat, drool leaking from around the sides, face flustered like nothing I’ve ever seen before. “Mmm-hmm.”
Ah, he is so cute. Now I’m really going to get hard.
“That’s it…keep taking it deep into your mouth.”
And he does, willingly.
Then, he reaches down and starts to touch himself through his trousers. It’s clear he needs more stimulus than a simple mouth-fuck can provide. So I give him a helping hand by unzipping his trousers. His cock is tenting at such an acute upward angle. I just know the fish sausage is doing the trick, but no…it’s not enough.
His body is begging to be touched, to be utterly savoured. I can tell that he wants me to be like his tongue on that sausage—wet and thirsty. I run my fingers along the rim of his boxers, brushing ever so gently against the tight head of his cock as it rears itself proudly. But I want the full package, not just a sneak preview. I ease his boxers down and let that handsome cock loose. Looks like he’s been hiding at least seven inches of pure pleasure in there. With each new suck and lick he offers that sausage, a little more pre-cum oozes out and glistens under the artificial light.
I press my finger to the existing pool of pre-cum and spread it around in small circles, making sure it gets all the way around and underneath his tip. After all, natural lube is always best. He lets out a decidedly sexy moan and screws up his eyes. I lift my finger, which creates a sultry bridge of moisture. Damn. I just want to lap him right up. I slip the fish sausage out of his mouth and place it on the side. His mouth is neglected and agape, and he’s salivating more than before. In fact, he’s drooling so much that it drips down and mixes together with the pre-cum. His expression is gormless. My poor puppy is at such a loss now that I’ve taken away his favourite toy.
“Why did you take it out?” he asks, his eyes expectant.
I lean in and give him a good, hard sniff. “Because you smell like you want something else. Am I right?”
He gulps audibly before offering a shaky nod.
“Well then, show me how you want to play this.”
He shuffles his body to face the other direction and slips his trousers all the way down. “Please…put it inside me.” His bare ass is quite the picture, so tight and peachy.
How can I possibly turn down a request like that while this beauty is teasing all the sense right out of me?
I take the fish sausage and position it at his entrance. He shudders as I start to probe around, tantalising all those oh-so-sensitive nerve endings.
“You’re already reacting quite a bit,” I say, partly out of concern but mostly just to taunt him. “Are you sure you can take this?”
“Mmm. That’s nothing compared to what I’ve used before,” he admits, looking back at me over his shoulder.
“Oh, really?” I chuckle and lean in so my erection presses up against that tight ass. I talk softly into his ear, ensuring that my hot breath ripples through him. “In that case, I…might have something that’ll stretch you out some more.”
“N-no,” he insists, his voice almost a whimper. “Just…put the sausage in…I-I want the sausage.”
“What’s that?” I raise my eyebrows and sit back. “Are you seriously suggesting that you’d prefer to have this thin sliver of a sausage barely scratch the surface instead of getting well and truly pummelled by my thick fucking cock?”
Surely the luscious way I just said ‘thick fucking cock’ will make him want me.
“Please…I need that fish sausage…p-put it in.”
I sigh. “Well, if it’s going to help you get off I guess I can’t refuse.”
Without holding back, I slide the adequately slicked-up sausage into his tight orifice, slowly at first—after all I don’t want it to break in half; the structure of this thing is about as sturdy as a ladder without steps. It enters him so much easier than I imagined it would. As one inch disappears inside him, he arches his back inwards and inhales sharply.
I push it in another inch and peer around his light frame to see his cock twitch some more.
“You really like that, huh?”
I move in closer so I can angle the sausage better but as I do, I feel it give way in my hands. I look at the broken, sorry thing. It appears to have ripped just at the two-inch point where it enters his ass.
“What happened?” he asks.
“It broke. I would go and get another one but…well…”
“Push what’s left all the way inside.”
“But it’ll get stuck.”
“Yes, that’s what I’m aiming for.”
It’s weird enough that he wanted to get fucked with this thing, but now he wants me to give him a good reason to go to the A&E?
“Are you su-”
“Just do it!” He turns to look at me, his eyes fiery and defensive.
I push the remnant deeper into his ass as though it were some cheap imitation of a bullet vibrator. He shuffles back into his original position, so his cock is now in full view. I sense his buttocks clench around the intruder and it looks like his eyes might roll back in his head at any moment. He takes his cock with his left hand and starts to stroke at it, coating the entire shaft with that sweet, wet pre-cum that’s been trickling out ever so steadily like honey. I get hot and flustered just watching the way his fingers grip and jerk himself off so passionately.
But he doesn’t want me anywhere near him and that drives me insane—insane with lust. There’s something to be said about being teased so mercilessly like this, but not being able to get your hands on the prize—it’s turning me on no end. He damn well knows how hard I am right now, but he’s purposely leaving me in suspense with blue balls. What is it he really wants? Some alone time with that fish sausage and an audience to show off to? I think he enjoys the exhibitionism.
He continues to beat himself off, his face flushed with light patches of crimson as sweat drips down his temples. I push my finger into his ass —the sausage has practically disappeared and I can no longer feel it. Maybe if I just push it…
“Ngghh!” He bucks furiously, sending white spatters of semen onto his exposed abdomen. His shirt looks absolutely wrecked, his glasses are falling down his nose again.
Alright, now I’m serious.
If this sexy beast doesn’t let me make an even bigger mess of him, I’m going to fucking explode.