When Saturday finally came I was in a state. I had spent Friday alternatively being disgusted with myself and determined never to go back and then excited and horny - wanting it to happen again. But by the time six came I had made up my mind not to go back - I was frightened of what Mustafa would do, and what I would let him do!
But then I heard Dad shouting for me. I went to the top of the stairs.
"I'm not going tonight, Dad." I said. "I don't like it anymore."
Dad looked surprised but then a bit angry.
"Well, that didn't last long, did it?" He said. "Work isn't about fun you know, it's hard and unpleasant."
"But.." I pleaded.
"No buts young lady. If you don't want to do this job then fine but you'll get a new one before you quit. Now get your clothes on."
I was dumbfounded - here was my own Dad forcing me back to a place where I was being molested. I know I was a willing partner but I'd made up my mind to stop all that. But I saw the determined look on his face and so I went back into my room and got ready - this time with my most modest clothes.
"No, not those ones." He said when he saw me. "The ones you wore last time - the old ones you don't mind getting dirty."
I looked at him for a second, was he really making me put on those tarty, suggestive clothes and go back there? I turned and went back to my room to change. A second later I was in the car in my short skirt and tight white tee-shirt being driven back to who knew what by my own father.
I reluctantly stepped through the door of the takeaway and saw Mustafa, he looked even older and dirtier than before. A wicked smile cracked his lips. I sucked in a breath and thought to myself - right, get through this shift, get a new job next week and then never come back here.
I got to work and, as it was a Saturday, it was thankfully busy and Mustafa didn't have much chance to come near me. He still managed it on a couple of occasions and it seemed like he made less attempt to hide it - he would just come up behind be and grab me, grinding his groin against me, his breath was hot and disgusting in my ears.
Despite myself I knew my body was getting turned on. Even though I didn't want it to happen I could feel my pussy getting hot and wet.
Just after nine Abdullah came in again and my heart sank. He and Mustafa stood in the corner talking loudly and looking at me. I saw Abdullah share what looked like whiskey with Mustafa who took a long swig. This went on for half an hour, both men looking more and more drunk and talking more loudly whilst watching me. Finally, with much prodding Mustafa walked towards me. All night I had kind of expected it to happen again and now it was - I took a deep breath. I could do this one more time, just once more and then I'd be out of there for good.
Mustafa came closer and then, unexpectedly, said, "You get sauce from store yes, near potatoes."
I looked at him for a second and then, relieved, walked through the bead curtain and into the storeroom. The sauce was on a shelf behind where Mustafa stacked the potato sacks. I reached over the potatoes but couldn't quite get to the sauce. Outside I could hear more talking and laughing but was just pleased to be out of there for a minute or two.
I finally resorted to clambering onto the potato sacks to get the sauce, it was then that I felt Mustafa's hands grab my waist. I gasped but did not want to call out in case Abdullah heard. The familiar sharp pull forced my bottom back into his groin and I fell forward onto my hands.
At last I managed to say, "Mustafa, no. I don't like this."
"Girly like." I heard him say, his voice hoarse with lust.
"No, I don't. Please let me go."
He wasn't listening though and his strong hands weren't letting go. I could feel his cock behind his trousers, hard and unforgiving, being jammed between my legs and up against my pussy. I was already hot and wet but feeling his cock so close to my pussy made it spasm. A second later I felt his hand run up the back of my thigh and lift my skirt over my bottom.
"No, Mustafa." I hissed urgently, suddenly feeling exposed. He just chuckled. My bottom felt cold with just my white cotton knickers shielding me from his hungry eyes.
I felt his fingers move between my legs and touch my pussy through my knickers. I gasped and bit my lower lip. My hot and wet pussy must have been obvious to him now.
"Girly, like much I think." He said triumphantly.
His fingers began to rub my pussy through my knickers. Suddenly I was lost in a hazy world of lust. Pleasure spread through me as this disgusting, dirty old man touched me where no other person had touched me before. I felt my head drop down. Mustafa must have seen it as a sign of submission - which I suppose it was.
Quickly he yanked my knickers down so they were half way down my thighs and then used his knee to force my legs apart. Then his fingers were back but this time he was more forceful. His old dirty fingers quickly found their way between my pussy lips to the hot wetness inside. I gasped again as one of his fingers sank into my pussy. No one had ever fingered me before except myself and Mustafa's fingers were much thicker and longer. He pushed it slowly into me until he could feel my hymen. He stopped then and slowly, even reverentially, touched it with his finger tip.
"You true when say you are virgin." I heard him say, almost to himself.
He pulled his finger out a bit and then back in. I was lost in a sea of lust and humiliation. I was on all fours with my knickers round my knees in the back of a takeaway while a disgusting old man fingered my pussy. God I was turned on! I must have been gushing my hot juice all over him. Blood was rushing in my ears but I could clearly hear Abdullah through the bead curtain as he turned away a customer. God I thought, are they in this together? Is Abdullah buying Mustafa time to abuse me? I think I then heard the lock being turned on the door to the takeaway but I was too turned on to think straight.
I was brought out of my stupor by the sound of Mustafa's zip being undone. In my innocence I had assumed all he wanted to do was touch me, not anything else! I froze while I heard Mustafa moving around behind me. Then, without warning, I felt him place the head of his penis at the entrance to my pussy and grasp my hips.
"No, Mustafa. I don't want this."
"Girly want this very bad I think. Girly's little cunt all wet." He laughed. "Girlie little whore."
I hung my head in shame. I knew why he thought that was true, all I'd done was confirm his sick theory but I didn't want this.
"No, Mustafa. I am waiting for my wedding."
I felt him hesitate.
"Being a virgin on wedding night important for Asian girls." He said.
I felt a sense of relief but his hands still grasped my hips tightly and I could still feel the head of his penis nestled between the outer lips of my very wet pussy. I felt so exposed and vulnerable, I tried to close my legs but he was standing between them, keeping them spread far apart.
"But white girls just whores." He said and pulled my hips back whilst pushing his slowly forward.
"No." I cried but it was no good. My pussy was sopping wet and I felt his cock slowly force my pussy lips apart and enter me.