Misattribution of arousal. I had been trying to think of the term, as though having a name for it might explain or justify my actions. Hell, I don't even know if that was why I was searching my memory for knowledge gained in freshmen psychology. I needed something to focus my spinning mind upon. I had just done something that I could not accept as being "me."
The body has a limited number of reactions. In most ways, your reaction to fear mirrors your reaction to intense sexual arousal. Your mind is left to make sense of the physical sensations of your pounding heart, flushed face, shortness of breath and sudden perspiration. Scientists have conducted experiments that clearly show that if people watch a scary movie or ride a roller coaster on their first date, they are likely to rate their attraction to their date as being higher. People fail to realize that the butterflies they are feeling are from the movie or the roller coaster, and they attribute the butterflies to attraction. I know. I was grasping at straws. Even if I had misattributed arousal, I still had free will. It seemed like my body had a mind of its own. I am sure it was exacerbated by being at the peak of my cycle, just a day after ovulation. I desperately wanted to be able to rationalize this, and I did NOT want this to change my life..
I have a perfect life. I have a rewarding and important career, where I work with a great team. I live a few minutes from work, in a charming home with a great view. My kids are self-assured, smart, athletic, and kind young gentlemen. My husband Jack is handsome, athletic, wickedly funny, has a great job, prioritizes the family, and is sexy as fuck! And here I lay, with my mind working hard to make sense of the copious amounts of cum running out of my overheated and gaping pussy. Jack would be home from his trip in less than an hour, and I somehow needed to get my shit together.
I take really good care of my husband. He loves my sassiness. He loves my purposefulness. He loves that my ass and legs still look like those of a high school cheerleader. He loves that I flirt with him all day long, and l am always thinking of ways to keep the passion in our love life. Sex is very important to Jack, and I try to add a little sexiness to the most mundane tasks, even grocery shopping. Just a couple hours ago, I went to the store to pick up a few items for a romantic homecoming dinner.
The last thing on my list at the grocery store was a "beer isle belfie." Jack loves my butt, he loves that I am a little exhibitionistic, and he loves getting selfies from me. The "belfie" is what we call a selfie of my butt. I try to send him one several times a week. Today I planned a special treat for him, his favorite of my repertoire of belfies. I put my phone on a low shelf with the interval timer camera on, and I bent over to pick up his favorite beer from the cooler. Depending on how long I linger bent over the cooler, my phone takes twenty or thirty shots, and I select the most flattering and most revealing shot to send to him. When I am really motivated, as I was today, I wag my butt a little, knowing that at least one of the pictures will be perfect. I had hiked my skirt up a little, knowing the low angle of the camera would clearly show the absence of panties. I quickly thumbed through the pictures as I pushed the cart towards the front of the store, as I wanted to make sure I had a keeper. I was pleased with what I saw, and it was going to be hard to pick among the many great shots. Several shots clearly showed the bare curves of my ass, the little gap between the top of my thighs, and my naked pussy. I flipped through them a second time, looking for one where I turned my head back over my shoulder and smiled for the camera.
Taking belfies in such a public place as a grocery store was a fun but challenging mental game. I had to tune out my surroundings in order to have the nerve, and I knew that it was the nerviness as much as the physical beauty that turned Jack on. I had really gotten in the zone for this one, building my own little mental bubble so I could focus on including all of Jack's favorite elements.
Having completed my shopping and my special task, I started making my way to the checkout line. I held the phone in my hand, deleting the photos that I judged as not quite making the cut, and marking the ones that I might send. I was still in my bubble or I would have paid more attention to the vague sense of someone walking behind me. As I got to the front of the store, My eye was caught by one more impulse buy. Some beautiful peach colored roses with pink petal tips were on the quick sale rack because the buds had already started to open. I took it as a sign from the universe that this was going to be a great night, as my favorite colored roses were on sale, and my husband was coming home to me after his trip. Just as I bent to grab the flowers, I was jolted into the here and now.
Two big strong hands wrapped around me, the fingers digging into the front of my hip bones as though they were handlebars. As the man grabbed my hips I felt him press himself firmly against my ass. It felt as though a child's arm, holding an apple, was somehow trapped between his pelvis and my ass. Even though I was in public, I was momentarily terrified. Some jerk was boldly groping me right in a public grocery store! My heart was pounding as I readied myself to scream. And just as suddenly, I had a flash of recognition. I smelled the most masculine scent I could ever remember. I had felt big hands like those before... his thumbs meeting on the small of my back, even as his fingers gripped the front of my hip bones. And that cock... I could never forget that cock. I knew it was my ex-boyfriend Gabriel even before I turned around. As quickly as that, I went from terror to wanting, no needing that cock inside me.
Leaving my cart in the florist section, I grabbed Gabriel's hand, and pulled him along to the family restroom. Nobody was in the hallway, but even if there had been someone there, the result would have been the same. As soon as the door closed behind us, he pulled me to him and lifted my ass onto the counter by the sink. His rough beard scoured my face as his lips pressed firmly against me. He pushed his way farther against me as I fumbled with his zipper. He knew all of my buttons, and through the thin fabric of my t-shirt, he already was twisting my hard nipple. It was somehow sexier that not a word had passed between us as we raced towards the inevitable. I yanked down his pants, and he slapped his heavy cock against my glistening pussy. No time for foreplay... my body was ready. I did not want any warm up. I needed that incredible stretch... the fullness... I wanted it to be a jolt. I wanted it to take my breath away. He didn't need me to tell him, and he wrapped his massive forearm around the small of my back to keep me from retreating an inch as he drove his huge cock home.
