Shopping Late


I saw her in the supermarket. It was rather late and there weren’t many customers so when this lovely young thing strolled past I noticed her. She was in her early twenties, a blonde with brown eyes, which strongly hinted that she wasn’t a blonde. Didn’t matter. She looked good.

She was average height, say five foot six, and her weight was probably around one twenty five pounds. Not much more than that, would be my guess. She looked quite fit and had a deliciously curvy figure. My immediate thought, perv that I am, was that I wouldn’t be kicking her out of my bed. My second thought was just as bad, namely wondering what she would look like naked. I know, I’m an evil minded young man with sex on the brain. In other words, typical.

She was wearing a short skirt, rather tight, and what they call a gypsy blouse, loose fitting with a generous neck-line. I might point out that she had enough super-structure to make that blouse not so loose fitting in places.

I wasn’t in any great hurry so I meandered along behind her, enjoying the way her buttocks swished back and forth under her skirt. My dreams were answered when she dropped something and bent down to pick it up. Possibly she should have crouched, but she didn’t. She just bent at the hip and her tight skirt rode up, revealing a tiny pair of lacy panties. She straightened up, automatically adjusting her skirt, and continued on her way, me ambling along behind, tied to her by a strong sense of lust.

I was fairly certain that she’d noticed me there but hey, I was just doing my own shopping. Nothing anyone could object to. Whatever, she completely ignored me, going about her business. I had to approve of her single minded determination to do her shopping, even if it did seem to involve a lot of bending over to examine things on the bottom shelves. Maybe she needed contact lenses.

It occurred to me while we were wandering down the next aisle that a gentleman would have reached up and passed down that item she wanted from the top shelf. I guess I’m no gentleman. My eyes were firmly glued on the rising hem of her skirt as she stretched and I was far too preoccupied to think of giving her a hand. I should say helping hand. If I put my hand where I wanted to all hell would have broken loose.

I couldn’t help but wonder what would be the result if I was standing on the other side of her when she bent over. Like I said, gypsy blouse, loose with a generous neckline. Just how generous, I wondered. She was busy scanning a shelf for something or other so I drifted past her and stopped at a shelf further down. Next time she bent over my head swivelled around and my eyes damn near popped.

The neckline was generous enough and the blouse loose enough for me to see clear down bahis firmaları to her navel, if it hadn’t been for the two wondrous globes that stopped my view. Yes, I had to admit that she was wearing a bra, a lacy red number that matched the panties, but that bra was pure decoration. It might have covered her nipples but you couldn’t prove it by what I saw. For a moment I considered doing the rest of my shopping walking backwards, just so I could watch her bend forward occasionally. Wiser councils prevailed, damn it.

She had definitely noticed me now and it seemed to me that the best thing I could do was move along, wishing I didn’t have to. Then I decided that moving on was the second best thing. The best thing was to introduce myself.

“Hi,” I said. “The names Brand. And you are?”

I left it hanging.

“Not interested,” she said.

“Odd name,” I told her. “How do you spell Not?”

“Quite simply,” she said. “It’s G O A W A Y. Do you think I haven’t noticed you following me and perving on me every chance you can?”

“No, really, I haven’t,” I protested.

“Oh? Which chance did you miss?”

Sarcasm yet. I sighed, sadly shaking my head.

“I’m just doing my shopping,” I said, holding up my basket of goodies.

“Yeah, sure you are,” she scoffed. She looked back and forth along the aisle and noticed that we were the only two people in it.

“Is this what you wanted to see?” she asked, grabbing the hem of her blouse and lifting it straight up, displaying a magnificent chest. It turned out I was right. That half cup bra wasn’t covering her nipples, perhaps because they were peaked and had pushed their way out of hiding.

She must have noticed that her nipples had come out to play because she blushed and hastily pulled her blouse back down into place.

“Right, you’ve had your free show,” she snapped. “Now go away and leave me alone.”

I smiled and saluted and went on my way.

Once my shopping was complete I headed for the self-serve checkout area. Wouldn’t you know it, so was little Miss Not Interested. I smiled and ran my items through while she ignored me while she rang up her own items. We finished at the same time and headed towards the same exit door.

“After you,” I said graciously, waving her through.

“Are you following me?” she demanded.

“Certainly not,” I protested. “Even though I find you admirably worth following I’m actually on my way to my car.” I indicated where my car was. Easy to see. There were only a couple of cars in this car parking area. Most people used the parking on the other side of the store.

“Figures,” she muttered, and it dawned on me that the other car must be hers, parked conveniently next to mine.

Conveniently positioned, kaçak iddaa too, facing the supermarket. She was driving a hatchback so it stood to reason that she’d go to the rear of the car to put her groceries away. I slung my few items on the back seat and then moved to the rear of the cars. I kept my distance, not wanting to seem a threat. As soon as she finished stowing her things away I spoke up.

“How about slipping off you panties and tossing them in the back as well.”

“I beg your pardon,” she snapped, sounding very indignant. “I’m married.” She waved her hand to show she was wearing a ring.

Wrong move as far as I was concerned. She should have slammed the hatch door and got in her car. I wasn’t close enough to grab her so she wouldn’t have had a problem doing so.

“I’m not, and I still want you to take of your panties. I want to see you leaning into the car, your dress pulled up, and your lovely white tush on display, waiting for me to start touching you.”

“You’re crazy,” she told me.

“And you’re wondering what it will be like. You’re out here at night with a stranger. What if someone comes? Does he seriously expect you to agree? He does, I assure you.”

She was blushing and chewing on her lip. She wanted to but was afraid of taking that first step.

“I’ll make it easier for you,” I said, speaking softly as I drifted closer. “Just lean into the car as if you’re putting something in it.”

I was next to her now, my hand lightly touching her back, not pushing her, but more suggesting she move in a certain direction. She obeyed like a lamb, leaning forward, using her hands to brace herself.

“Don’t worry, I’m just lifting your skirt a little,” I told her, hand on the sides of her skirt and edging it up. Now her panties were in plain view, as was her pert little bottom.

My hands brushed lightly over her bottom, collecting her panties as they moved. I eased them down, stroking her legs lightly as I went. My hands reversed the direction they were stroking, moving up, leaving her panties behind. Her legs were nicely parted, and my hands slipped up the insides of her legs, coming to a halt when they bumped into her mound.

Any doubts that I might have had faded away at that point. She was hot and wet, her inner lips already protruding, pursed and ready to kiss me. I suspect all that bending over and showing off of her panties and breasts had got to her. I massaged her, making sure the massage was nice and firm. No tentative touching but a deliberate rubbing of her pussy.

I unzipped, making the zip scratch loudly as it went down. She knew just what it meant and she shivered slightly. I couldn’t hang around for a long foreplay or even a long loving. Like I observed, even if kaçak bahis it was late and us the only two cars, there was always the chance another late shopper might come along.

I stroked my cock along her slit, letting her feel the head of it rubbing against her. Her lips were nicely pursed and I offered them my cock for a kiss. They parted, letting me slide inside her. No rush, no hurry, taking it easy so she could feel in control, no pressure on her. She would feel as if she was in a position to call halt, and that gave her the confidence to let me continue. Continue I did, pressing steadily in until I gave one sudden jerk at the end to push myself completely home.

I could hear her gasping slightly as she adjusted to what had happened. While she adjusted my hands were moving up under her blouse. A quick flick of the catch of her bra and my hands were seeking those wondrous globes I’d seen earlier. With those in hand I started.

I pumped her hard. She was squealing and carrying on but also responding, humping her hips and pushing back hard to meet me. She told me she just didn’t do this sort of thing and I thrust in hard, squeezing her breasts as I did so. She explained that this was a momentary aberration and if I was a gentleman I’d stop. I’d already demonstrated that I wasn’t a gentleman and drove in harder than ever. She pointed out that someone may come and see us, so I picked up the pace a little. And all the time she was pushing hard to meet me, interspersing her comments with gasps and encouragement. (Don’t ask me to explain how a female mind works.)

Her protests started to fade away as she found she needed her breath and couldn’t waste it on talking. At least, not on talking coherently. She was still saying things, and words like yes, and wow, and oh god, spilled out of her mouth with a lot of ahs and ohs.

She did find time at one point to complain that I was taking too long but I ignored that, continuing on my happy way. I wasn’t ready to finish and the noises she was making weren’t desperate enough to make me speed up.

When she finally got around to pleading I was just about ready to let her have her way. Holding tight to her breasts I drove in harder and faster, quite willing to shorten my strokes to get more of them in. Hopefully her scream was trapped with her car as she convulsed with her climax, clamping down on my poor cock and milking it for all she was worth.

“I can’t believe you made me do that,” she said afterwards.

Made her? She’d been so ready for me I’d have needed a stick to beat her off. Still, mine not to reason why. Mine just to do and take the blame.

“It wasn’t really my fault,” I explained. “It’s just that you’re so hellaciously attractive I was helpless to resist your charms. What could I do? I was yours to enslave.”

She made a disbelieving sound and departed, driving quickly away. I made a note to shop here more often. There’re unexpected benefits to late night shopping.

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