Black Journal Ch 19

Duncan Cyrus, age 24, Grocery Store Gilf

The market is a place where you can see all kinds of people. I know this because while I have my headphones on and drown out the noise I observe the environment. I go by a set list and routine as I walk through the store. The market is pretty big and looks more like a warehouse really. To be honest it's like my socializing time outside of work.

Anyway, there was a time I met someone in the market. A very nice, pushy old lady, who tried to make sure I always get the right stuff in my basket. The first was more like an intrusion. She called me "sonny" and pointed out all the wrong things in my basket. I was quite livid at first that she was in my business without so much as an "excuse me" or "pardon me". I have a pretty strict diet because I don't like to cook a lot. I choose about four or five different meats, a loaf of bread, chips, crackers, juice, milk, water, four different fruits, five different vegetables, cereal, and maybe some type of snack. It's not like I eat unhealthy stuff all the time.

No, this old lady just plain bombarded into my blissful world and literally had me follow her, listen to about the groceries and watch her take stuff out my basket, and put stuff in mine she thought was supposed to be in it. The woman barely came to the height of my stomach and the little white skinned, silver haired, wrecking ball was crushing my peace. She even watched me pay for the items to make sure. We walked silently to my car and she waved me off.

I thought that after that fiasco I would never see her again, but lo and behold she was there a month later I went for a food run on a Saturday. She spotted me and I tried to be a gentleman and tell her I have my way of shopping and she just tagged along anyway. I didn't even know her and I thought it was some type of set up. But the third time around, she caught my eye. Well, her boxed shaped ass anyway. I never really had the time to observe her because it was like walking into a storm. You stay focus on getting out instead of just waiting it out or going around it.

I was leaning on the basket while strolling when she picked up speed to get something off the shelf when I noticed she was wearing these wind pants that couldn't hide her swaying butt. It was quite nice. I took out my phone and pretended I was taking a text, but I video recorded her walk every time she sauntered in front of me. I had a good fifteen minutes of footage of candid bbw, gilf booty. I went home and watched it. I slowed played it and everything and by the end of the reel I had edged myself into a satisfying orgasm. I had proper motivation to now listen to my big booty gilf.

Another month past and there she was again. She had cut her hair a little short, kind of punkish. Still she wore her classic wind pants, tennis shoes, matching jacket that she leaves open, huge purse, gawdy type jewelry, and nice applied make up. We never talked about anything but my choice of groceries. I started fighting back more about my food but always had my camera ready for when she would walk in front of me.

I started zooming in and tried to get better angles. I wasn't paying attention enough to realize she had stopped and I hit her from behind with my cart. She fell forward and I quickly dashed to her side and apologized profusely. She said it was ok and I helped her up. People watched the spectacle but didn't bother to help. At the end of the shopping day I apologized once again. She knew she had me by a hook and wanted me to come to her house. Young and dumb me went along with it.

At her home it smelled like my grandparents' homes: bleach, dish detergent, and polish. You know, scared to sit anywhere type homes. She told me to have a seat. She went into her back room and came out in some sweats. The bottoms still couldn't hide the rump though. She laid across my legs on her stomach and told me to give her a massage where the basket collided. I started at the middle of her back and made my way lower. I never took my eyes off her ass, thighs, and calves. She moaned with satisfaction and began to rub on my leg. My dick jumped into her chest and she hopped a bit. She found it funny which didn't bother me.

I pulled down her bottoms right under cheeks. I slapped upward and it moved just like when she walks. She turned her face towards me and I slapped again. She appreciated that one with a smile. I gave my proper attention to her ass a little while longer and I set her up over the arm of her couch.

I opened her cheeks and ate her butthole. She groaned and bucked into my face. My tongue dove deeper and deeper. I found the button and flicked it. She erupted but I didn't stop playing with her clit.

Her released juices kept flowing so I maneuvered under her and feasted on fine pussy. I rimmed her anus with my right hand middle finger. She played with her labia and groped a titty. She rocked on my face until she started slamming it down. She came again as I drowned in milk. She was tender at that point, but wanted me to unleash.

Her hand skills were pleasant. It was like sitting outside and the cool breeze hits your body and you are so relaxed all you can do is smile. I came and nearly fell asleep. But I remembered I had food in the car. I asked politely could I use her restroom to wash up. I kissed her on her cheeks, the face, and she told me to be safe "sonny".