Brooe Wors at the Hardware Store

A

750 Word Project 2023

story.

* * * *

As I walk up to the counter with my tin of paint, brushes and some rollers, I see Brooke turn away with her hands up near her chest. I see the white strap of a bra through her shirt, thin straps on her shoulders. When she turns back to me, her gorgeous smile glowing, I'm sure there's an extra button undone. I'm guessing there's a dress regulation in the store, but just this once it seems it's relaxed. There's a teasing shadow of cleavage, the swell of her breasts just showing.

She serves me efficiently, Brooke style; then I see a pause, an intake of breath, and

"Will you write another seven-fifty words?"

The world momentarily stops. I look at Brooke, and Brooke looks back at me. Then I see her eyes crease into a smile. She takes a breath, her cleavage is gorgeous, and even though I'm busted, I'm forgiven.

"Your story. I read Literotica too. I... found me in a story. It must be yours, coz that girl is definitely me. You -"

"Took liberties. I shouldn't have. It's wrong." I make a too late apology.

"It's hot. It not every day I find myself in a story; you with your studio, me with the garden hose." She doesn't mention the nudity, she doesn't mention the ending. Brooke looks at me, and I really am exposed, my fantasy standing before me.

"Will you, though? Write us a seduction, write me some more?" I notice the 'us' and the 'me', and decide Brooke doesn't mind the attention.

"I shouldn't."

"You should. Do you want a receipt for the paint? For warranty, just in case." She touches my hand. "Just in case you want more. Paint, I mean. More paint."

"Paint for my studio, huh?"

"Well," Brooke says, "I've not seen inside it, yet."

I'm still hearing her say, "Just in case you want more," and of course I do, and Brooke seems willing to play. Or read. As I leave the store I dare not look back, just in case she's not watching.

When I get home I open up the studio, its double French doors to the garden, six tatami mats on the floor. It's not quite done yet, not finished. As a place to take Brooke in my imagination, though, it's nearly perfect. There are books and records at one end, big hi-fi speakers at the other, CDs in two revolving units next to the turntable rack. And a two seater soft leather couch in the sweet spot, for the sound.

I take my mind back to where we were, naked and wet near the rose garden, her hand on my cock to lead me into the studio. "Let's see your clever hands," says Brooke.

I see she's a woman who gets what she wants, and I figure, I can do that. "Tell me," I say, "what you like."

"I'll show you," she says, and makes me sit on the couch, my cock hard for her, no hands needed. Her hair is still up in its high ponytail, and she flicks it back, before reaching back to take my cock in her fingers, backing on to me, teasing my head around her opening.

Looking down, I see Brooke's strong back, the firm curves of her backside with the dark pink of her asshole a promise, that long ponytail falling over a shoulder. I take the hair in one hand and gently, tentatively, pull it back. I've always loved long hair.

"Harder," she says, "and squeeze my tits."

Her breasts sway, nipples long and hard against my palm as I hold her, pulling her body back, pulling that long hair like a leash, with my other hand over her heart.

"Mmmm, that's good. Fingers." Brooke adds another demand to the action, places my hand on her belly, then guides my fingers down to her wet slit. She presses my fingers onto her clitoris, showing me how hard I can stroke her. Her body bucks, and still she holds my cock at her opening.

Outside, a magpie lands, struts on the grass and calls for its family. Brooke stops all movement, and tilts her head to listen to the liquid sound. "That is so gorgeous," she says, looking back at me, her body in my hands, her shining juice on my cock head.

Brooke slowly lowers herself onto me, sliding down to take me, very deep.

"I bet," she says, her eyes closing, "my grip's stronger than yours."

© Electricblue66 2023