Corner Market
A hot day in July. My internet is down, all day according to my apartment manager. Some digging going on down the street.
So no work possible (I work remotely on tech) and no porn either.
Bummer.
Time for a drive, clear my head, do some shopping maybe.
Choosing the convertible I put the top down, cruise out of my stall in the basement and head onto the boulevard.
It's hot, maybe I should have the top up and the AC blasting but I like the sun on my face, the wind in my hair. It centers me.
Turning onto the expressway I get a mile then feel thirsty.
Fortunately there's a corner market at the next light. Been there often, and they carry a passable half-sweet tea I like.
Turning at the light and turning in, there's just one car in the lot. Still I cruise to the far corner near the hedge screening the expressway, away from any possible parking lot fender-benders. Gotta protect my baby!
I trot in, wearing just a T-shirt with a Habitat logo and some soft shorts. Going commando, didn't expect to mix with the public much. And it's hot!
Making a beeline for the cooler in the back, I spot my tea in the usual rack, grab a cold one and head for the register.
The guy at the front of the line is on his phone, holding everybody up. Listening, shushing the cashier and talking too loudly at somebody.
There's always that guy I guess. I'm not in any hurry in any case, so no big deal.
Anyway the lady between him and me is worth a look. Hispanic, sleek black hair, sensuous face, red lips, hourglass waist.
And those Hispanic hips! To die for! I've got several bookmarks on my favorite porn sites, Hispanic butts are kind of my thing.
Add to that, glorious tits nearly bursting from the brief sundress she's wearing! And likely not wearing much else - where would she put it?
She seems to be impatient or something, tugging on the guy's arm. So they're a couple, no problem. Nice view from where I'm standing!
So, slick with the greased hair and expensive shoes finishes up barking into his phone, stuffs it into a shirt pocket.
"Got to go!" he says to the chica. He leaves without another word, just heads out the door.
She looks a little stricken, almost a panicky look. Hollers "Cabron!" after him.
Taking an uneven step to the counter she leans heavily on it with one hand, the other clutching a coin purse.
Clerk guy repeats "$3.95 ma'am!" in a pleasant clerk voice.
Fumbling she gets out a five-dollar-bill, pushes it across the counter.
Now she's leaning over, clearly not doing well. The heat? But why would she be buying chips then...
One feature of a sundress combined with those luscious hips is, when you lean over it rides up considerably.
It became clear to me that she was going commando too! I could see her bush clearly now, trimmed but thick and black.
The clerk is having trouble making change. Apparently his cash drawer is low. He turns to the counter behind him, begins poking at a keyboard.
She leans further over now, both hands on the counter, her head hanging down.
Now I can see her asshole! Except I can't; there's something in the way.
My eyes don't figure it out for a second, something round and glassy and textured...
A pop bottle! She's got a pop bottle stuffed up her ass!
And I mean, stuffed. There's just about one inch remaining exposed. The rest is fully engaged with her guts, between those glutes, inside those bountiful hips somewhere.
My mind goes into overdrive, like one of those slow-motion scenes in a movie where the hero just learned something that changes his whole world.
Consider: she's here with a man, or was anyway. Dressed like a slut, no panties, no bra, just a too-small sundress. He abandons her, and she's boiling mad.
She's an exhibitionist! He's her handler, but now he's gone and she's humiliated in public with nobody to help, nowhere to turn.
In a flash of brilliance I reach forward, extend my index finger and tap on the bottle bottom.
Donk!
She jerks and stiffens, confused but otherwise no response.
The clerk is still doing some safe-change-swap thing, fiddling with a capsule that popped up from a tube, not noticing anything.
I take a half-step forward, crowding her. With the pad of my index finger, I reach down without touching her, touch the bottle, and push ever so gently and firmly.
She freezes, a pause of a beat, two beats. Then her ass moves imperceptibly back, and the bottle move a little further into her body.
I can see her asshole rim stretched to it's limit, slowly slowly inching back on the bottle as it eases into her guts another quarter inch.
I hear her breathing now, heavy and loud in this small store.
This is going to be fun.
The clerk has her change now, a dollar and a nickel. She takes the dollar with a shakey hand, stuffs it into the purse.
The nickel she drops at her feet. It rolls away a foot, two feet, spins and stops.
Deliberately she turns, bends at the waist, her skirt shamefully inadequate to cover her glorious butt, and reaches down.
Her pussy is completely mine if I wanted it, pink and moist, right there for the taking. Her asshole exposed to the cold air-conditioned shop, the bottle slick with condensation.
She's two feet short of reaching the coin, in heels, and she pauses, waits, the bottle quivering as she holds the pose, deciding what to do.
The glass is sweaty but slick somehow, her butt shiny around her asshole. Lube? That makes sense. She came prepared.
Ever the gentleman, I crouch and pick up the nickel in one hand, putting the other absently on her leg to steady myself.
This is our first contact. She's hot. Of course she is; Hispanic with perfect looks and figure.
But her skin is also like a radiator, heat boiling off her flushed skin. She's embarassed and excited in equal measures!
From this vantage point I can see her pussy clearly. It's wet and drooling, girl juice running down the inside of her thigh.
It would take oh so little to push her over the edge, to make her come right here in front of me and the clerk.
Raising my gaze I look her in the face, bent down where I can nearly kiss her. Those incredible full red lips.
She's persipiring, her upper lip wet. She's nervous and flushed.
Offering the nickel to her outstretched hand, at the same time I raise the other hand up her leg until I bump her bush.
My palm gets wet from her dripping juice.
That gets a jump! and the hint of a smile.
Standing again she drops the nickel into the purse, snaps it shut. She smooths her skirt, which hardly helps and still doesn't cover much.
I stand as well, release her, put my bottle on the counter and drop three ones. I don't wait for the change.
She takes one shuffling step toward the door, clutching her bag of Lime and Chile Fritos.
The clerk notices her difficulty for the first time.
"Lady! You ok? You look a little pale. You want to sit down for a while in the air conditioning?"
A good lad, and polite to the lady. He goes up a notch in my consideration.
I wave him off.
"No problem! I'll walk her to her car."
He looks to her for confirmation. She looks between us, sizing me up, then nods to the clerk.
Only then does he relax, knowing she's taken care of. Another ratchet up in my regard for the young man.
I put my arm out for her to lean on, take her chips in my other hand. The tea I slid into a pocket on my shorts, which oops! nearly pulled them down.
Fortunately my cock was extended no small amount, and the waistband couldn't fit past. A relief!
This was all about her exposure, not mine. I didn't want to steal the limelight from her with a cock-flash in the parking lot.
Outside the door, "Where's your car?"
"Gone. He took it. Hijo de puta!"
"I'll drive you home."
Tossing her chips in the trash on the way by - they were just a prop for her show after all - we step off the curb together.
One hand now free, I place it in the small of her back, just to help steady her.
But immediately I snake it down, cupping the gorgeous curve of hip, and feel under the skirt for the bottle.
Grasping it firmly I twist!
"Hey!"
That was an involuntary outburst, not really a complaint. She takes a half-step but continues toward my car.
Still holding the bottle rim I firmly lift!
She goes up on tip-toe in response, but makes no objection.
