It was a day like today, just an ordinary day in which ordinary things are done. My laundry needs to be done, got to clean-up the hard-drive in the computer & install that new virus software, check on investments-should I sell or hold? Nothing like being retired a lot earlier than you'd anticipated. Still, new house, and its the same old thing.
I instead opted to go to the Supermarket, due to no laundry soap. You know how you get distracted, one thing needs to be done and another pops-up before your eyes. So, off to the Supermarket down the street a ways.
There I park in the lot, discovering the HUGE banner proclaiming the store's one-year-anniversary. No matter, I've got to go inside, I pass the huge radio station truck hoping not to be noticed. I try not to be noticed most days by people I really don't want to be bothered with, regardless of their good or modestly greedy intentions on my wallet.
I step through the automatic doors, and I'm greeted by a young lady with a striking resemblance to "Mack" on the television show, "JAG." She's only 18 or so, but an incredibly sweet smile, brilliant eyes that are a soft brown, darkish brown hair that is much longer than "Mack's" hair is on the show. Nice eyebrows, well-shaped and thin. No make-up to speak of. And, nicely proportioned, perhaps a 36-C or so, or larger, the buttons on her blouse seem to strain a bit, nicely I think and smile as I have now encountered her near the entrance doors. Her name tag says she's Michelle.
"Hi! Wouldn't you like to win the new Jet Ski??" she asks earnestly, face full of brilliance that only youth have when motivated. I smile, "No, Michelle, not really, it would hurt my back," I fake-reply hoping I can get past her table & a box that holds the numerous cards asking for your name, address, phone numbers (to be later sold to telemarketers to annoy you at dinner.)
"Oh, pleeeeze?! You could always give it to little ole' me...." That statement makes me look back at her. Now I realize for some dumb-luck reason she's given me a come-on. Me? Nice, so unexpected. The bounce in her eyebrow, I love that. The bedroom eyes, she's a tease. And, the leaning down in front of me, a hand supporting herself on the table (she's short, 5' 2" or so) and idly pointing at the various other "prizes" on the table intrigues my eyes-fabulous cleavage. That lacy white bra really is pretty, but I bet there's next to no support it provides-but I can tell she needs no support.
"O.K., I'll sign-up... for you, Michelle. What...other ... prizes could I win," I ask flirting back. She doesn't miss a beat. A dozen items on display-the runners-up prizes--and she tells me, "Well, there is the possible prize of a 'personal assistant' for a shopping spree in the store...." She's looking at me and smiling a devilish, coquettish smile. Nowhere is there a prize like that on the table; but it gets her boss off her back, knowing he can see from a distance that she's trying her best to get me to sign-up on the small paper forms. I smile and ask her, "Tell me more, who'd be my personal assistant and how much for the shopping spree?" She smiles some more, shifts, and her breasts tantalizingly sway and wiggle inside her blouse, her smile intoxicating me. "Me! You can ask me where to shop and buy what you want in the store, and I'll show you where the items are!" Such a fun young lady, she's 'hooked' me into signing. I fill out the card, and ask her when do I win? "Oh, well, I guess this is your lucky day! I get to do this once a day-and you're my first." She says this with a lot more intonation in her voice. Words said that give me pause, a stir in my loins, and the full knowledge that buying laundry soap in aisle 12 isn't all that she's talking about.
We walk through the store, I picking-up a couple of other items now that I'm in here that I need. She stops me at a couple of places and tells me "this would be good," with a saucy & sexy leer to her voice & eyes. For example, some Extra Virgin Olive Oil and Saffron Oil. The Cool Whip in a can that's chocolate. A loaf of bread, "Can't forget why you're here...to get bread," she says full of herself at the obvious double-entendre. She moves her hands up and down her body, in that aisle, caressing her breasts and rubbing one time between her legs. Her nipples are firm now, poking through the bra & thin blouse, after that stunt. The "oops" bumping caress of my trouser's front of her by her luscious ass in a short skirt, as she bent over to get the oils really got me firm....erecting. I can't begin to tell you how erotic it was as she tried to describe the various cucumbers the display had, and how handy each one was and how well it fit, I mean tastes.... A lovely giggle, I've wished for one in such a soft lovely voice for a long time.
We did finally find some laundry detergent and spot remover ("Never know what sort of dirtiness one will get on one's clothing, will you?" she smirked), and I paid for the items. "Will you need my help taking your items out to your car, sir?" she asked in all innocence and business-like for her nearby boss. Surely, she's 'played' guys before, in High School, etc. She's pretty smooth.
"Well, yes, that would be thoughtful, very accommodating of you," I reply. We walk out to the side parking lot, and I remotely-unlock my P.T. Cruiser, dark blue. She really likes it, the car. I've got the rear hatch-back open, I'd parked so it was facing the lot, and the rear faces the rear empty fields behind the store. She takes her two items, and noticing the rear-most seats are missing, places the bags of toilet paper & paper towels way forward, bending over and stretching. She reaches so far over that her short black skirt rides-up, to just below her white-with-huge-black-polka-dotted panties. Cute butt, wriggling, she's lost her balance. I offer to help her up, and she instead turns and falls onto her back. "Oh, my, look what I've done," she says naughtily.
Facing me now, her legs wide apart, and her skirt wrapped-up around her waist, her skimpy thin panties are so visible. She's looking at me, and says, "This is where I'm most useful as a personal assistant. What could I do for you now, sir?" Her finger rubs her panty, slipping inside.
