Fucking hot teacher get fucked by me

 Literal internet meme needs to speak to the manager because her six-week-old computer will not power on. Karen gets all her problems solved by a young tech with a big cock.

I had only been working in the tech portion of our local, big box consumer electronics store for a few weeks. I started after high school graduation as a temp employee while I was on the Delayed Entry Program for the Army. I was waiting as apparently the school for Explosive Ordinance Disposal had a waiting line.

Maybe I was not your typical geek or nerd or whatever you wanted to call it, having started as middle linebacker qnd starting catcher for the baseball team, but I loved tech and had excelled in all computer related labs in school.

What I wanted more than computers, I wanted adventure too, so I thought Army. My dad had been in for six years as an Airborne Infantryman and went with me to the recruiters. With his guidance I got what I wanted; it did not hurt that my ASVAB was extremely high according to the recruiter. I figured I would learn the craft, then find a job with one of the bigger bomb disposal teams for a city police department.

I was standing over by the TV’s with Henry, one of the associates in that area when she came in.

“Aw, shit man. Karen’s here.”

“Who is Karen?”

“You know that internet meme Karen? The let me speak to your manager Karen?”

I nodded.

“We have our very own, down to the name and haircut.”

I laughed, “no way dude.”

He pointed to a lady who looked about forty with that haircut and she looked pissed.

“Oh, wow dude.” I now was trying not to laugh out loud.

“She buys shit all the time then comes in bitching about everything she buys. Best part,” he looked at me, “her name really is Karen.”

“Oh, come on dude.”

“For reals, Hommie.”

I headed up toward the tech counter as she stood in line looking like she was about to have a stroke her face so red. I also noticed if she smiled, she would be pretty. Hell, she would be a MILF. I heard Shell, one of the associates at the counter, call for Robbie to the counter over the P.A.

Robbie was our store manager who was now making his way up from the back. I could see him coming and he was pulled aside by Henry. You could see Robbie anywhere in the as he is 6’7”. I was 6’2” and I felt short around him.

I could tell by the look on his face that Henry must have told him ‘our Karen’ was here. He looked defeated before he even made it to the counter.

“Fifty-Seven,” Shell called clicking the customer counter as she did, and Karen stepped to the counter.

“How may-“

Karen cut her off, “That piece of junk computer you sold me six seeks ago won’t turn on!”

“Ma’am did you make sure it was plugged in,” Shell asked?

Yes, I understand it is an insulting question for those of you reading this. However, it is one of the most common problems people face when their computer will not come on. That is why in pretty much every electronics manual there is it says make sure it is plugged in, has batteries, etc.

Karen looked like she was going to need EMS, like she would stroke out as her eyes narrowed.

“You little…,” She bit it off. “Let me speak the manager,” Karen demanded.

Robbie stepped forward looking like he had rather been stabbed in the balls that deal with Karen. To me, the madder she got the more I thought what my dad had told me a few months ago about angry women.

Mom had been being kind of bitchy for a few days to all of us. I had come home from practice and heard mom snap at dad in the kitchen, then it got suddenly quite I walked into the kitchen to see what no one should ever see. Dad had mom bent over the table, pounding her. I turned and ran out of the house. Yeah, I knew my mom and dad had sex, but I did not need to see it.

A few days later, after trying to avoid them both, dad caught me sneaking into the kitchen for food. I had been avoiding dinner since the incident.

“Son.”

I was bent over, head in the fridge, and I jumped hearing dad’s voice.

“Son, sometimes when a woman is bitchy you just got to give her attitude a little adjustment.”

I was just staring at my dad who had a smile on his face.

“Not all the time, you have to learn the difference. You know what I’m saying?”

I nodded, even though I did not understand what he meant.

“I hate that you had to see that, but a man has to learn; sometimes when a woman is bitchy, she needs cock.”

I suddenly lost my appetite and tried to walk away.

“Travis look at me.”

I did.

“Some day you will be faced with it, so you need to know it. Let her get all riled up then give it to her. Notice your mom has been as pleasant as spring shower since that day?”

I nodded again.

“Good. Now I expect to see you at dinner tomorrow night. Your mother feels shamed at what you saw. I need you to make her understand that you do not shame her. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good. Glad we had this little talk.”

I swallowed my pride and came straight home the next day and hugged mom telling her how much I loved her. After that all was normal.

So, the more Karen looked angry, the more I thought she needed a serious fucking.

“Ma’am.”

“Don’t ma’am me Robert Simmons! I need my computer to work. I paid almost twenty-five-hundred dollars for it. I paid for the extended warranty and repair plan. So fix it!”

“Ma’am, you have to bring it in for us to take a look at it.”

If looks were matches, Robbie would have been incinerated. Karen now had her phone out talking to someone who had just called.

“No,” she said to someone on the line. “They say I have to bring it in. I cannot lift that big ass computer! She listened again the shouted at her phone, “You are as useless as them,” then hung up her phone.

Her anger now even hotter, she starred at Robbie. “I want it fixed,” she demanded.

“Ma’am.”

“Stop Ma’aming me.”

“Ok. We can not send someone to your house to fix it without you filing a request with by calling our warranty number. It could take several says.”

I almost laughed; her eyes looked like she was looking to the back of her head she rolled them so hard.

I don’t know why I spoke up, but I did.