Not the Friendly Grocer Anymore

Holding her mothers hand, the toddler walks away. With her other hand she keeps waving at me. The mother smiles at me and says: "Thank you again for the lollipop!" and to her daughter: "You are one lucky girl." They walk out the door past my stand with fruit and vegetables. The radishes are perfect today.

In the neighborhood, everybody knows me and I know everybody. In my shop I mainly sell vegetables and fruit, but I also have some daily necessities and candy near the counter. The neighbors like to come here for a chat or gossip about the community, but mostly for my great fruit. And I'm very proud of that. My bananas are always perfectly ripe, my apples hard and sweet and the seasonal fruit exactly the way they should be.

I do everything by myself in the shop. It's hard work, especially lifting all the crates with vegetables and fruit. At least I don't have to work out anymore. As if I have time for that. The days are long, but making a little girl happy with a lollipop or helping an old lady with her weekly groceries makes me realize why I do it all.

From the corner of my eye I see a young man coming in. I don't know his name, but his mother shops here often. She is very friendly, but I don't trust this boy at all. He must be around 19. Too old to misbehave but too young to not want to. Every time he has been here with his friends, some chocolate bars and cans of soda are missing. He is alone now. He has a buzzcut and wears a vibrant blue tracksuit. Under his dark eyebrows he has a provocative glance. He is tall, but just a bit shorter than I am. I can take him, I realize. All that lugging with crates put me in quite a good shape. My arms are muscular and my chest is broad. Definitely not an athlete, but according to some women from the neighborhood I look good. Especially for a forty-something.

He greets me and I do the same with a smile. I can't prove anything and until then I am mister nice guy. He lingers around the chocolate bars near the cash register. As if he is provoking me. He is slim and fit, but he slopes his narrow shoulders. His father probably tells him all the time to stand up straight. He grabs a Snickers and looks at me:

"You know I can swallow this whole?"

"They are really good indeed. I always eat them too quickly as well. They are one euro."

"You don't get what I'm saying"

He puts an euro on the counter and unwraps the Snickers. He puts the bar between his lips and pushes - without breaking eye contact with me - the whole thing to the back of his throat. He swallows and says beaming:

"Cool right? I never had a gag reflex."

He walks outside, grabs a banana and returns. He peels the skin down, puts the tip of the white fruit against his mouth and pushes the banana down as far as he can. I see his throat moving to accommodate the banana. He pulls out and shows me the intact fruit. I won't lie. This suggestive action does something in between my legs. That doesn't take much these days. My wife has lost all interest in me. Our bed is only used for sleeping.

The boy engulfs the banana a few times more and bends over the counter. He whispers:

"I can do that with pretty much everything. I can show you in the back?"

He smiles wryly. He has no shame and an excess of self-confidence. As if I'm hypnotized, I close the door and turn the sign to 'closed'. People won't mind. I do this too when I'm delivering groceries.

We walk to the storage room together and I can hardly disguise my enthusiasm for the surprise I have. This boy doesn't know yet that my penis is a whole lot bigger than a banana. Not super thick, so that won't give him problems, but quite long. I feel it getting jammed uncomfortably in my underwear.

In the back the boy goes down on his knees immediately. He opens my fly and pulls out my erection. I see him hesitating, but then purposefully grabs the base of my cock. He wets his lips and takes the head in his mouth. Without a pause he starts his way to my belly. I feel the head of my dick against his uvula and it glides further smoothly. When he swallowed my dick for two-thirds, I feel a thickening in his throat. I want to encourage him and say:

"A banana doesn't reach that far, huh?"

I help him by pushing my hips towards forward. And then it goes and my whole penis is in his mouth and throat.

I look down. The boy's nose is nestled in my pubic hair and I feel his chin against my balls. He looks at me with those provocative eyes he entered with. I get the feeling he is mocking me.

Before I know what I'm doing, I slap him hard on his cheek.

My hand leaves a red mark, but the boy seems to be encouraged. He tightens his lips around my cock and his tongue pushes against my corpora cavernosa. He fucking loves this. I think of all the candy bars and cans of soda he and his friends might have stolen and I want to make him pay.

I slap his other cheek hard and pinch his nose closed.

His face is turning red and he starts resisting the dick in his mouth. I release his nose right when he almost can't take it anymore. Instead of taking my cock out, he pushes his forehead against my belly to take in even more down his throat. I have never seen anything like it. I grab his buzzed head and pull him hard against me. I slowly start thrusting into his face.

His hands caress my legs. I'm confused by this sweet gesture, but I can't hold back anymore.

I start pulling his head further back, only to thrust back in hard. He looks up and his face is wet. With the tears from his eyes, the saliva that I fuck out of his mouth and the sweat dripping from my body. He can take it all. I move in and out quickly and his throat takes my dick like it's made to do that. My balls bounce against his chin.

Then I pull out completely and grab him by the chin. He swallows and looks up beggingly. No sign of his arrogant alter ego. I gather some saliva in my mouth, spit it in his open mouth and slap his cheek again.

I hiss at him: "I am going to fuck your face until I come and you will swallow everything. Understood?"

He nods timidly. I don't think he predicted all this when he made that Snickers disappear so proudly. This is what happens when you're cocky. And steel from my shop! By now I'm sure he and his buddies are stealing from me. Maybe I need it as an excuse to behave this badly.

I shove my dick back in his throat, grab the sides of his head and start pumping. Saliva pours down over his chin on his tracksuit. He keeps looking at me with watery eyes. His gaze is a mix of pitiable and begging. My thrusts are shortening and picking up pace and it doesn't take long before I feel the orgasm coming from my balls. After three more jabs I pull his face against my crotch. I cum deep in him and push him back after the second eruption. Just in time to see a third and fourth spurt landing on his teeth and tongue.

'Swallow!" I yell at him and I grab his chin. He closes his mouth, looks deep into my eyes and theatrically swallows. He opens his mouth to prove everything is gone. The cockiness is back.

I pet his short hair and feel my old, trusted self coming back. I give him some paper towels. He dries his face and tries to get rid of the stains in his tracksuit. I get some soap from the shelf and help him rub the stains.

When I'm cleaning my raw dick I tell him that he better put the jacket on the radiator. That way it dries quicker and nobody will see the stains. He hangs his jacket over it and sits on a stool. I close my pants and walk to the front to open the store.

A group of women are waiting to come in. I open the door and give them a warm welcome. One of them is the mother of the boy catching his breath in the back.

"Hi m'am! How is your son?" I ask with a big smile. I realize that I still don't know the name of the boy who now has my seed deep in his stomach. The mother's face lights up.

"He is such a sweet boy," she says, "but he needs some discipline."

"They all do at that age, m'am. It just takes some time."

When she has paid and left the store, the boy flies past me. "Bye," he mumbles and runs out.

The boy still regularly visits the store with his buddies. They all greet me very friendly and when one forgets, the boy punches their shoulders. I wink at him when he pays and always give him a free Snickers.