(C) 2003 2004 SouthSkyEyes, All Rights Reserved
I remain in the car to have another smoke, nervous, quadruple checking the numbers I've recorded on this little slip of paper for my first and second choices. Hoping all I have to do is tell the clerk, whomever she or he may be, the item number of what I want rather than having to describe it. I'll go into the store as soon as my erection subsides. I pray I won't get too aroused while shopping.
My wife's courageous labors to birth our children had left her vagina enlarged and softened. To our mutual relief we finally discussed this, both sharing a level of disappointment over the reduced pleasure of intercourse compared to when we first met and were being "bunnies," as she puts it. In private, I studied the catalogue of a nationwide adult toy distributor. Deciding against a slip-on "enhancer," I searched for a novelty cock, one that looks and feels life-like, one thicker than mine, to stimulate her in ways my erection no longer does. I recorded the item number for two that seemed appropriate.
I imagined her response to the sensations offered by a cock larger than mine, pressing into her, filling her so fully, so completely, and stroking to her deep pleasure. Then, I imagined what it would be like for me, to see this other cock plunged into my wife's sweet pussy and watching the excitement, the pleasure, the satisfaction come to her face over the experience of a shaft longer and thicker than mine.
These thoughts, and the humbling images they stirred up, kept reemerging, haunting me, and exciting me, as well. Over the next few days, I'd get bone hard each time I imagined walking into that store, the distributor's local retail store. That weekend, Saturday afternoon, my wife left to go shopping for a few hours. I knew I was as ready as I'd ever be to step into that store. After a tough decision against masturbating, to "take the edge off," I headed off to make my purchase, making sure I had the little slip of paper in my pocket.
So I get out of the car and walk across the parking lot, wondering if I should tuck in my shirt. My shirt tail will hide the tell-tale bulge of my excitement if I get aroused. But it occurs to me that keeping my shirt untucked will actually expose my fear of becoming aroused in public to this store's seasoned staff. So I tuck it in, nervously glancing up catching sight of this woman, watching me from inside the store as my right hand is down the front of my jeans. Trying to pretend this never happened, I take a moment to study the signs on the windows, waiting for the redness in my face to subside.
It takes me a few minutes to regather the courage to enter the store. I make sure the door closes quietly behind me and take a moment, fiddling with little slip of paper in my left hand as I take in the wall-to-wall fantasyland before me. Looking around I see five women and, thankfully, no other men.
I discern the staff from the shoppers, the three women in black dresses. For some reason I take comfort knowing I'll be dealing with a woman rather than a man. Two of the staff people are assisting other shoppers. One of the shoppers, the woman who saw me with my hand down my jeans, is holding up a hot red lingerie set that will leave her crotch and nipples exposed. She glances at me, flashes a timid smile, and returns to studying the set as her clerk assists her. The other shopper is inspecting packaged merchandise on the far wall. Her clerk is pointing out items looking similar to what I'm wanting to purchase.
To my deep relief the third clerk, standing behind the checkout counter, turns toward me and makes eye contact. She appears to be in her late 20's and about my height, 5 foot 6. She smiles at me with her pale-red painted lips and dark eyes peering out from behind her swagged shoulder-length auburn hair. I find her very alluring.
To my dismay, she proceeds to announce my presence, bellowing out, "May I help you?"
I cringe, certain all the women in the store are staring right at me, wondering, what toy I'm looking to take home to masturbate with. But the sight of my clerk sauntering toward me recaptures my attention. Her moderately full but firm shapely body looks so fine under her snug long black dress. She stops about three feet in front of me. The v-cut front of her dress plunges to the middle of her belly, offering an exciting view of her cleavage. Her smooth plump rounded tits meet so gracefully, casting a deep shadow on her fair skinned chest. I shake loose my stare, embarrassed, realizing she has to be aware I was staring at her chest.
Thankfully, she is quite forgiving, as she gives me a knowing smile, offering her assistance again, "May I help you find something?"
