Chapter 3: Sampling The Merch
The plush silence of the room was absolute, broken only by the ragged symphony of their breathing. Courtney remained on her knees, her world reduced to the towering, burgundy column of flesh before her. The sheer scale of it, the weight of its presence, made the air itself feel heavier.
“Well?” Jovan’s voice was a low rumble from above. “You just gon’ look at the merchandise? That ain’t how you move product, shorty. You gotta handle it. Test the weight. Feel the quality.”
Her eyes, wide and reflecting the golden light, flicked up to his face. He was staring down at her, his expression a mask of cool expectation. No smile. No encouragement beyond the command in his words. He was a customer waiting for a demonstration.
Slowly, as if moving through deep water, she lifted her right hand. Her pale fingers, tipped with bitten nails, hovered just inches from the thick shaft. The heat radiating from it was immense, a biological furnace. She could see the intricate map of raised veins, the smooth, dark skin stretched taut over formidable core.
“Go on,” he urged, his tone casual, as if discussing fabric. “It ain’t gonna bite. Unless you want it to.”
Her fingertips made contact.
A jolt, like static, shot up her arm. The skin was hot and surprisingly silken, but the solid, unyielding core beneath was unmistakable. She wrapped her fingers around it, her hand barely meeting her thumb. The girth was staggering.
“Oh,” she breathed, the word a soft puff of air. “It’s so… thick. My hand looks so small.”
“That’s ‘cause it’s a premium item. Not for small hands.” He shifted his weight slightly, a subtle rolling of his hips that pressed his flesh more firmly into her grip. “Now show me you know how to move inventory. Give it a stroke. Real slow. Like you’re polishin’ the finest leather in the store.”
Outside, Summer’s breath hitched. The silhouette on the green velvet transformed. The girl’s shadowy hand, once at her side, now reached out and closed around the thick, upward-curving shadow of his cock. The contrast was obscenely beautiful: the delicate, tapered shape of her fingers and wrist encircling that brutal, dark line. Summer’s own hand, still inside her blouse, clenched over her lace-covered breast. She pinched her nipple hard, the sharp pain a grounding counterpoint to the voyeuristic thrill coursing through her. Her little hand, she thought, a flare of possessive heat in her gut. My hands are bigger. I could get a better grip.
Courtney began to move her hand. A tentative, upward slide. The skin moved fluidly over the iron-hard core beneath. A bead of clear pre-cum welled from the slit, glistening like a pearl on the dark, broad head.
“That’s it,” Jovan murmured, a hint of a grunt in his voice. “See? You got a natural touch. Now use the other hand. Two-handed demonstration. Show me you can manage the full product.”
She obeyed, bringing her left hand up to join the right. She had to adjust her kneeling position slightly, her large, pale breasts swaying with the movement. Now both her hands were wrapped around the shaft, one above the other, pale against deep burgundy. She began a slow, steady stroking rhythm, her hands moving in opposite directions, covering the immense length.
“Damn,” he sighed, his head lolling back slightly. “Yeah. That’s the proper way to inspect the goods. You feel that weight? That density? That’s top-shelf. Your boyfriend ever let you handle somethin’ like this?”
“No,” she whispered, her confidence growing with each stroke, watching her pale hands work the dark, thick flesh. “Never. He’s… it’s nothing like this. This is like… a black rolling pin. A really hot, hard, black rolling pin.” The race play slipped out, shy but deliberate.
He chuckled. “A rollin’ pin? That’s a new one. I like it. Keep polishin’ that pin, then. And don’t forget the display case.” He nudged his hips forward, bringing the slick, bulbous head closer to her face. “See that gleam? That’s the product sample. High-quality. You taste it, you know the rest of the shipment is legit.”
She stopped stroking, her hands still wrapped around the base. The broad, smooth head was right there, level with her lips. The salty, clean scent of him filled her nostrils. The bead of pre-cum trembled, inviting.
Hesitation lasted only a second. Curiosity, a deep, hungry fascination, overrode her last shred of innocence. She leaned forward, her long auburn hair spilling over his thighs. Her pink tongue, small and pointed, darted out.
She touched it to the very tip, catching the clear droplet.
The flavor exploded on her tongue—musky, slightly sweet, profoundly salty. A flavor of pure, concentrated man. A moan vibrated in her throat.
“That’s it,” he coaxed, his voice thickening. “Sample the merchandise. Give the customer a real taste test.”
Emboldened, she did it again, licking more firmly this time, swirling her tongue around the entire circumference of the slit, collecting the fresh moisture that had begun to seep out. Her hazel eyes were half-lidded, focused solely on the task.
“Good girl,” he praised. “Now… quality check. Run your tongue down the side. Check the texture. Make sure the whole product is up to standard.”
She obeyed, her tongue leaving the wet head and sliding slowly, deliberately, down the rigid length of his shaft. She traced one of the thick, ropy veins from top to bottom, a wet, pink path on the dark skin. The taste was cleaner here, just skin and salt and him. She reached the base, where his heavy sac hung, and gave a tentative, broad lick to the top of his scrotum. The coarse hair tickled her nose.
“Fuck,” he hissed, his abdominal muscles clenching. “Yeah. Thorough. I like a thorough sales associate.”
Outside, Summer was panting softly, her forehead now pressed against the cool wall beside the curtain. The silhouette showed the girl’s head bent forward, her tongue extended in a clear, licking motion against the thick shadow of his cock. It was a lewd, animated cameo. Summer’s other hand had drifted down, pressing firmly against the front of her tailored trousers, over her aching clit. The fabric was damp. She imagined the taste, the heat. She imagined her own mouth, wider, more experienced, swallowing that dark shadow whole. My mouth could take more, she thought, jealousy a sharp vine twisting around her arousal. My QQ-cups could swallow that whole thing between them.
Courtney worked her way back up with her tongue, a slow, worshipping ascent. She was learning him, mapping the terrain of this strange, magnificent customer. When she reached the head again, it was wet from her attention, glistening under the lights.
“Alright,” Jovan said, his voice now a rough scrape of sound. “Enough previews. Time for the main event. You seen the sample. You tested the texture. Now you gotta see if the product fits in the… showroom. Open up, shorty. Let’s see if that pretty, pink mouth can take the display model.”
He placed a hand under her chin, not forcing, just guiding. His touch was electric.
She looked up at him, her lips parted, breath coming in quick puffs. The shyness was gone, burned away by a desperate, eager hunger. The race play tumbled out, no longer hesitant. “It’s so big and black,” she whispered, her voice husky. “My mouth is so small and pink. It’s gonna look… crazy.”
“That’s the point,” he grunted. “The contrast. That’s what makes it premium. Now… open the showroom door.”
She opened her mouth wider, tilting her head up. Her full, naturally pink lips formed a soft ‘O’.
With his hand still under her chin, he guided himself forward, just an inch. The broad, wet crown of his cock bumped against her lower lip, then her upper lip, smearing pre-cum. She flinched at the contact, but didn’t pull away. Her eyes were locked on his.
“Easy,” he murmured. “Just the tip. Just lettin’ the flagship product cross the threshold. You in charge, though. You take it.”
She leaned forward the final fraction of an inch.
And took the bulbous, plum-shaped head of his cock into her mouth.
The silence in the room shattered.
A guttural, choked sound came from Courtney, muffled by the fullness in her mouth. The stretch was immediate, intense. Her lips strained to circle the massive girth. The taste, the overwhelming sense of invasion, the sheer hot, solid reality of him on her tongue—it was a sensory flood that drowned every coherent thought.
Jovan let out a long, low groan of pure satisfaction, his fingers threading into her auburn hair. “Yeah… oh, fuck yeah. That’s it. That’s the display. Look at that. A big, black customer service tool… right in the little white showroom.”
On the other side of the velvet, Summer’s knees almost buckled. The silhouette was unmistakable, devastatingly explicit. The girl’s shadowy head was now connected to the base of the man’s shadowy cock, her profile deformed by the thick intrusion. The image was so lewd, so visceral, that Summer’s hand pressed hard against herself, a quick, frantic rub through the fabric of her trousers. A soft, desperate whimper escaped her own lips. She could see it. She could see the depth. And all she could think, with a fury that tightened her stomach, was that her own lips, her own experienced mouth, her own massive, pale breasts, were wasted out here in the dark.
The wet, hot pressure of her mouth was a revelation. Courtney’s lips formed a tight, pink seal around the broad crown, and she began to suck with a timid, rhythmic pull. Her tongue fluttered nervously against the sensitive slit, collecting the steady seep of pre-cum that tasted of salt and clean musk.
“Mmm, yeah. Just like that,” Jovan grunted, his fingers relaxing in her hair. “Suck on that sample like it’s the last one in stock. Get a real feel for the flagship product.”
She closed her eyes, the world narrowing to taste and heat and the solid reality stretching her jaws. Her cheeks hollowed as she increased the suction, a soft, wet sound filling the plush cube. She suckled on the head for long minutes, lost in the strange, intimate act, her own nipples aching and tight beneath the weight of her breasts.
Outside, Summer watched the shadow-play of the girl’s bobbing head. The silhouette showed a slow, steady rhythm, the connection between mouth and cock a constant, lewd tether. Summer’s breathing grew shallow. Her hand, now slick with her own moisture, rubbed harder against the fabric of her trousers, a frantic, circular motion over her clit. That should be me, the thought was a razor. My QQ-cups are the premium display for a tool like that. Not her little OO’s.
“Good, good,” Jovan murmured, his voice thick. “You got a decent mouth on you for a white girl. Real enthusiastic. Now… let’s see the full presentation. Run your tongue down the product line again. I wanna see that pink polish on the whole black catalog.”
Courtney released his cock with a soft, wet pop, a string of saliva connecting her lip to the glistening head. She panted, her lips feeling swollen and used. Without being told, she leaned in and dragged her tongue slowly, worshipfully, down the entire rigid length of his shaft. She traced every vein, every contour, from the tip all the way down to where his heavy sac began.
“Fuck, that’s a pretty picture,” he breathed, looking down at the top of her auburn head. “Ain’t it? That pale, pink tongue on all that dark, thick inventory. You makin’ a strong sales pitch.”
She reached the base and licked a broad stripe across the top of his scrotum, the coarse hair tickling her nose. Then, driven by a hunger that shocked her, she worked her way back up with deliberate, lapping strokes. When she reached the head again, she was breathing hard, her hazel eyes glazed with focus.
“Alright, sales associate,” he said, his tone shifting to one of cool challenge. “Enough window shoppin’. Time to see if the main product fits in the storage. Open wide. Take more of the shipment.”
Her eyes flickered with a flash of nervousness, but it was drowned by eagerness. She opened her mouth, wider this time, and leaned forward. She took the head in easily now, her lips slick from saliva. Then, with a determined tilt of her head, she took more.
She swallowed the first thick inch, then another. The stretch became intense, burning at the corners of her mouth. She pushed further, taking maybe a third of his immense length, and the broad, unforgiving girth hit the back of her throat.
Her body convulsed.
A sharp, gagging choke erupted from her, muffled and wet. Her eyes watered instantly, streaming tears down her flushed cheeks. She pulled back instinctively, his cock sliding from her lips with a gasp as she coughed, one hand flying to her throat.
“Whoa, easy, shorty,” Jovan said, a dark chuckle in his voice. He didn’t sound concerned, just observational. “The premium product ain’t for deep storage in a small warehouse. That’s alright. We got other display options. The accessory inventory.”
On the curtain, Summer saw the silhouette jerk back violently, the connection breaking. She saw the girl’s shadow hand go to her throat. A vicious thrill shot through Summer, mixed with her own frustrated arousal. She can’t handle it, Summer thought, her thumb finding her own nipple through her bra and pinching hard. She’s just a girl. I wouldn’t have gagged. Not that quickly.
“I’m… I’m sorry,” Courtney rasped, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
“Ain’t no sorry in customer service,” Jovan corrected, his hands guiding her by the shoulders, turning her slightly. “You just gotta redirect the client to other merchandise. See this?” He nudged her face gently towards his low-hanging sac. “This is the essential packaging. The quality assurance. You gotta inspect the carryin’ case, too.”
Her gaze fell to the heavy, hairy sack dangling between his powerful thighs. The testicles within were clearly defined, large as plums, shifting in their loose, wrinkled pouch.
“They’re so… big,” she whispered, the race play returning as she stared at the dark, pendulous weight against his black skin. “And low. Your big, black balls hang so low.”
“That’s ‘cause they’re full of premium stock,” he said. “Now, be thorough. Give ’em the same quality check. Lick the packaging. Taste it all.”
Swallowing her lingering gag reflex, Courtney leaned in. Her pink tongue emerged, and she gave a long, tentative lick up the entire underside of his scrotum. The skin was softer there, textured with hair and a deeper, muskier scent. She licked again, more confidently, bathing the heavy sack with broad, flat strokes of her tongue.
“Yeah,” he sighed, his hips shifting. “That’s it. Proper product maintenance. Now… open up. Let’s see if the white glove treatment can handle one of the main components.”
He cupped his sac, lifting it slightly, bringing one of the large orbs closer to her mouth. Her lips parted, and she allowed him to guide the hefty weight onto her tongue. She closed her mouth around it, her cheeks bulging slightly with the sheer size of the single testicle.
She sucked gently, her tongue cradling the firm, hairy sphere.
“Damn… that’s a image,” he groaned, his head falling back. “Switch. Inventory management. Other one.”
She released the first, a string of saliva connecting it to her lip, and obediently opened for the second. She took the other large orb into her mouth, suckling softly, her eyes closed in concentration. The taste was profound, masculine, earthy. The weight on her tongue was a tangible proof of his potency.
Outside, Summer’s hand was a frantic blur against her trousers. The silhouette showed the girl’s head bent low, no longer connected to the cock’s shadow but to the dense, hanging shadow of his balls. It was a depraved, breathtaking sight. Summer imagined the weight, the texture, the complete submission. A low moan escaped her as her own climax built, sharp and desperate, fueled by jealousy and voyeuristic lust.
Summer pressed her forehead harder against the wall, her body trembling as she rode out the waves against her own hand, the fabric of her trousers soaked and clinging. She bit her lip to stay silent, her eyes screwed shut, imagining the weight of those dark, low-hanging orbs on her own tongue instead.
Inside the plush cube, Courtney continued her worship. She moved between his heavy sac and the thick, leaking shaft with a growing, instinctual devotion. She would lavish attention on one pendulous orb, sucking it into the heat of her mouth, her pink lips stretched around the hairy, wrinkled skin, then trace a wet, meandering path with her tongue back up to the broad, burgundy crown.
“Yeah, switch it up,” Jovan encouraged, his voice thick above her. “Good inventory management. Keep all the premium stock polished and ready for display.”
She obeyed, taking the other testicle, then returning to the main column of flesh. She’d sheath as much of the rigid length as her mouth could accommodate, her throat fluttering against the intrusion until her eyes watered, then pull back to gasp, her spit-slick lips sliding off with a soft pop. She’d immediately duck her head back to his scrotum, nuzzling the heavy sack, breathing in his musk before lapping at the base of his shaft like it was a precious resource.
“That’s a dedicated sales associate,” he grunted, his hands now resting on his own muscular thighs, fingers curling. “You see how much better this product is than whatever you was shoppin’ for before? This ain’t no boy’s birthday gift. This is a grown man’s essential tool.”
“It’s so much… more,” she panted, pausing to catch her breath, her cheeks flushed. Her earlier shyness had melted into a dazed, focused hunger. “My little white mouth… it can barely fit your big, black… customer service tool. And your balls… they’re like two huge, dark peaches in a hairy sack.” The metaphors tumbled out, crude and earnest.
He chuckled, a low, approving sound. “Peaches. I like that. Now get back to tastin’ the fruit, shorty. The store ain’t closin’ yet.”
For fifteen solid minutes, the cycle continued. A relentless, wet rotation of worship. Her mouth, her tongue, her spit-slick hands, all dedicated to the monumental task of appreciating his anatomy. The air grew humid with the scent of sex and perfume and clean sweat. Courtney’s knees ached on the carpet, but she didn’t care. Her world had narrowed to taste and heat and the overwhelming scale of him.
Outside, Summer watched the shifting silhouettes, her own arousal rekindling into a fresh, aching throb. The shadow-play was a lewd, silent film: the bobbing head, the lowered face buried in the shadow of his groin, the constant, intimate connection. She unbuttoned her trousers now, just enough to slip her hand beneath the waistband of her own underwear, her fingers finding her wet, swollen flesh. She matched the rhythm she imagined inside, her own breathing shallow. The silhouette of his cock, that long, thick, impossible shadow, dominated the curtain. It’s not fair, she thought, her fingers working in furious circles. My tits are the real premium display. They’d swallow that black pole whole. He should be comparing his inventory to mine.
“Alright, alright,” Jovan said finally, his voice raspy with controlled pleasure. “Time for a different kind of consultation. A display option my wife definitely ain’t gettin’.”
He took a step back from her kneeling form, causing her to sway forward slightly, her lips seeking the vanished heat. He turned and settled himself on the plush, velvet-cushioned bench that ran along the mirrored wall. He spread his legs, his erection jutting upward from the thatch of dark hair, glistening and formidable against the backdrop of rich fabrics.
“Come here,” he said, not a request but a calm directive. “On your knees. Bring that white-girl merchandise over here. Let’s see if your rack can handle the main attraction.”
Courtney shuffled forward on her knees, the carpet whispering beneath her. The movement made her heavy, pale breasts sway, their full, round shapes catching the golden light. She stopped when the flushed, damp tip of his cock was just inches from the deep, pronounced valley of her cleavage.
“Lift ’em up,” he instructed, leaning back against the mirror, his dark eyes gleaming. “Present the goods. Let’s see if this pale, soft packaging is big enough for the product.”
Her hands, trembling slightly, came up to cradle the unbelievable weight of her own breasts. She pushed them together, the soft, ghost-white flesh swelling upward, creating a deep, warm canyon of skin. The contrast was staggering: the immense, dark burgundy column of his cock poised at the entrance of the vast, pale expanse of her cleavage.
The silhouette on the curtain shifted dramatically. Summer saw the man’s shadow recline, his shape merging with the bench. The girl’s silhouette straightened, then leaned forward, her upper body curving. The massive, round shadows of her breasts now cradled the thick, upright shadow of his cock, engulfing the base of it completely.