Grocery Store

From Create Your Own Story

I noticed her in the parking lot of the grocery store. She had a fluid walk that made all the good parts jiggle and wobble in the most enticing manner. That is what caught my attention. That and her six foot height. Being just over six foot myself, I had only once dated anyone close to my height.

She was by no means thin, but, man, it was all in the right places. She had shoulder-length brown hair pulled back in a ponytail with a lock hanging on each side of her beautiful face. Her wide-cheekbones and full, Angelina-lips with a slight curl of a smile drew my eye next. Her dark glasses gave her a mysterious air. Then, as my vision descended, my eyes popped out of their sockets when I saw her chest. She was wearing a black, spaghetti-strap top that could not contain her pair of grapefruit-sized tits, the bodice leaving them uncovered almost to the areolas. Her cavernous cleavage was one place I'd love to spelunk. Her walk was especially effective at giving those puppies a mind-numbing orbit. The shirt ended just two inches above her hip-hugger blue jeans, revealing her bejeweled navel and round belly. Her hips flared wide, providing the perfect structure to anchor that amazing ass, which swayed from side to side as she stepped. Big by most standards, but well proportioned on her six foot frame. The legs on her jeans tapered to a tight fit around her calves, and she wore sandals with two-inch heels. I had died and gone to heaven.

While she drew cash out of the ATM, I headed for the produce section with a cart. I found the grapefruit display and picked up two big ones, large enough to emulate her tits. I watched her out of the corner of my eye, squeezing and sniffing them, and then picking up another pair. I wanted a particularly fragrant one. I continued this, hoping that her path would take her past me. The display was well-placed for that with a little luck.

As I glanced up, I saw her getting closer. It appeared that she was going to go right behind me. My mind was rejoicing, as well as my cock. Just as she went behind me, I sniffed the large citrus fruit in my hand, and then gave a little moan of satisfaction. I turned to her and asked, “Are these ripe?” and held one under her nose. She looked at me from eyes dark with eyeliner; she had removed her shades when she got indoors. Her mouth curved into just a little bit bigger smile. She sniffed and closed her eyes, sighing pleasantly.

“That one smells delicious,” she replied, taking it from my hand. She hefted it and squeezed it lightly, handing it back. “That one’s ripe.” I handed her the other one, which she sensuously smelled and squished. “That one, too.” She returned it to me. With both fruit in my hands, I fondled them as if they were her tits. She watched me with one eyebrow raised in curiosity.

What next?

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