Miss Muffett was caught in the act as she slid through the velvet-curtained window of the local jewelry boutique. Her brown hair clung to her damp forehead, and her buxom chest heaved under a tight black bodysuit that strained against her generous curves. She scooped handfuls of diamonds and gold chains into a velvet bag, the gems clinking like frozen rain. The store smelled of old mahogany and polish, a quiet sanctuary until a heavy boot stepped onto the hardwood floor behind her.
The owner, a squat man with skin like cured leather, blocked the exit, his face twisted in a sneer. He held a heavy flashlight that beamed directly into her wide eyes, making sure she knew she was caught in the act."Going somewhere, you little brat?" he rasped, his voice sounding like gravel in a blender.
Miss Muffett whimpered, clutching the loot to her chest. "Please, I just needed the money. I will put it all back!"
"Too late for that," the man chuckled, his hand moving to his fly. "I am a merciful man, Muffett. I will let you walk out that door with every single stone in that bag, provided you give my cock the attention it deserves."He stepped forward, releasing a thick, pungent odor of stale sweat and neglect. As his trousers dropped, a thick, grayish-white layer of smegma clung to the ridge of his glans, looking exactly like clumps of old cottage cheese. Miss Muffett gagged, the smell hitting her like a physical blow, but the lure of the diamonds kept her on her knees. She wrapped her lips around the crusty shaft, the salty, fermented taste of the smegma coating her tongue. She sucked with a desperate, mechanical rhythm, the sound of squelching saliva filling the silent shop. She felt the grit of the debris against her palate, her stomach churning as she worked the pungent cock. The man groaned, his hips thrusting clumsily, until he let out a guttural shout and blasted a hot, thick stream of cum down her throat.
The moment the last drop of cum hit her tongue, Miss Muffett spat the filth out and recoiled. She realized that being caught in the act was a small price to pay for the heist, but the sensory trauma was too much.
“Now get out before I change my mind!” the owner wheezed, leaning back in satisfaction.
Miss Muffett did not need to be told twice. She snatched her bag of jewels, her eyes watering from the lingering stench of his groin. She bolted through the window, leaving the man behind. In the end, the smell of that crusty cock had scared little Miss Muffett away.