The skin of his cock rubbed against her lips as she moved her head up, then down. Up, then down. One hand at the base of his cock, the other loitering in the vicinity of his hairy chest. She glanced at his reflection in the mirror, his face tight, gripped with his pleasure. She saw that in his occasional glances down at her, she seemed to be no more than an instrument to him. Much as her vibrator was to her. This was not news to her, and its sting had long since passed. His urgency brought her thoughts back to the task at hand, and soon he was expelling his cum into her mouth.
Kristin looked at her self in the mirror as she gargled the taste away. She had done her duty, but unlike most nights, she wanted more. The door closed between her and her husband, she opened the drawer for her own instrument of pleasure. She held it in her hands, the coldness betraying its artificiality, and twisted it into life. The low, inconsistent whirr disappointed her; the batteries were obviously dying. Reluctantly she put the vibrator back in the drawer. She opened the door, and turned the bathroom light off. But instead of going to bed she turned and went downstairs.
"There have to be batteries here somewhere," she thought to herself. She searched the kitchen first, then the den, but the only batteries she found were for the remote controls and other toys of his. The lack of success only seemed to make her more determined. Or was it the growing warmth in her cunt that compelled her? She began to entertain the idea of going out to get batteries. It was ridiculous, at 1:30 in the morning, to think of going out for batteries, simply so she could bring herself to orgasm. She went upstairs and dressed anyway. She was in no shape to deny the need.
Kristin pulled out of the driveway with an urgency out of place at this hour of night. Her eyes scanning the horizon for the familiar lights of the QuikTrip, she drove onward. Her free hand occasionally wandered to that part that drove her. She pulled into the empty parking lot, past the gas pumps and up to the brightly-lit store. Walking in, she immediately began her search for the batteries. Instantly the burning eyes of the clerk found her neck. With his eyes came her self-consciousness, as she suddenly realized she was alone with him in the deserted store. Her search tempered by the knowledge she was being watched, she moved more slowly, less sure. The batteries were nowhere to be found. She finally forced herself to walk to the counter and ask for them.
Though the clerk could not know their purpose, she still blushed. The man however, younger than her by just a couple of years, was not through inspecting her. He seemed to be lingering on her chest. She was puzzled, as her breasts were not overly large, but a quick glance down revealed to her the unbuttoned shirt, and the resulting cleavage. She quickly pulled the shirt closer, and demanded "Where are the batteries?"
"What kind of batteries are you looking for?" he asked.
"I need triple-a."
"You sure you don't need triple-x?" He grinned at her.