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Comments are appreciated.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All characters involved in sexual activity are at least 18 years old. Any resemblance to real people is coincidental.
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Sunday evenings at the grocery store are crowded; working moms are stocking up for the week.
I finished with the "nutritional" part of my list, then decided, what the hell. And went to the baking aisle, added three different kinds of chocolate chips. That would go with the eggs and butter I had already loaded.
The checker rapidly scanned the items. And... then I noticed the bag boy.
Young, dark-haired. Fit. A dusting of mustache on his lip. He was smiling, looking right at me. Not aggressive, but... forward.
He looked at my groceries, at the chocolate.
"Are you making cookies?" he asked. "I haven't made cookies for a long time."
I wondered, this is strange. The boy is... so open. Interested. Eager.
Then I wondered, why is that? Is he lonely? Is this boy living alone? Shouldn't he be living with family? Parents?
"Yeah, that was my plan." I smiled. Then, audaciously, I asked, "Would you like to come and make them with me?"
He hesitated, "Yeah, OK." Maybe he was surprised at his own statement.
"Well, then, come on." I gestured at the filled cart with my bags and started out of the store..
"I don't get off until..."
"Come or don't come. If you want."
"I..."
"Just tell your manager that you are getting sick." I started pushing the cart to the car park. He turned back inside.
I had loaded most of the groceries into the boot when he slipped up behind me.
"Hello."
I looked at him, "Hiya." My kitty had a twinge, a tickle of excitement. This boy... broke the rules to come with me. What other rules would he be willing to break?
Game on.
His nametag said Joshua.
"Hi Josh. I'm Layla."
--/--
My apartment was clean, and as he entered, his head swiveled, taking it all in.
"The bathroom is there, to wash up," I said.
I could hear the stream of pee and then the wash water.
I gave him an apron and pulled it around his waist. It was so tempting to... just pull it across his front, tickle his boy parts, but I resisted. Don't scare him off. Wait. Not yet.
"Crack the eggs," I said.
He fumbled a bit. There was eggshell.
"I thought you had made cookies before?"
"Yeah, with my Gran. But I don't live there anymore."
"What happened?"
"She died," he stopped abruptly. Complicated feelings fled over his face.
"Oh, I'm so sorry. That must have been hard."
"Yeah."
Silence while he sifted the flour. And stirred the butter into the sugar.
"When was that?"
"A few months ago."
"So you are living on your own, then>"
"I have roommates. From school. But, yeah."
His dark hair shone in my kitchen light, and I caught the scent of his teen body... a bit of sweat, a bit of soap, a bit of.... pheromone.
My kitty started to purr. Thinking of... eating this boy. Fucking this boy.
"You don't have brothers? Sisters?"
"No."
No wonder he came so quickly, willingly, with a stranger. He must be lonely. Gran dead, probably no parents, and no other family. And... roommates. Who knows how they treated him?
For me, no worries. Whatever... happened. There would be few complications. I could do whatever I wanted to him. Anything.
He stirred the dough.
"Good, that looks great. My arms always get tired doing that, but you are strong."
He smiled. Not used to compliments.
I accidentally bumped into him as I moved to get out the cookie sheets.
He said, "Sorry. I'm taking up too much room."
I turned and smiled, "Not at all. I'm not used to having extra guests in my kitchen."
He smiled, relaxed again.
"Here, spoon out the dough onto the parchment."
I bumped him again as I passed to the sink. His dick pushed into the counter. "Oh, sorry."
He turned to me, "I'm sorry."
The pans went into the oven, and a second set was spooned out onto two more pans.
He licked his fingers where they had released the cookie dough onto the pan from the spoon.
I gave him a rubber scraper. "Why don't you clean out the lot? From the bowl? No chips there, but don't waste the dough."
He cleaned the bowl and licked the raw dough from the scraper. His tongue was driving me mad. He didn't know, his innocent face concentrating on the sweet taste.
"Good job."
He smiled.
One set of cookies baked. Second set in the oven.
"These smell fantastic," he said.
"Careful, they are hot," I said automatically.
He picked one, pulled the soft cookie apart, chocolate liquid making tiny points as the chips pulled apart, too.
"Taste good?"
"Yum." he licked his lips. Fuck, what a beautiful boy. In my kitchen.
"Are you in school?"
"No, graduated last month."
"Plans?"
"I'm, you know, thinking about what I should do."
That was a stupid line of questioning. I needed to get his clothes off.
"Here, would you like some milk with that?"
"That would be great," he said as he took a second hot cookie.