Her images dripped erotic honey into Randy’s mind. She felt him shudder and tremble, signaling his end. He was coming. He puffed out hard gulps of breath.
What the male orgasm was like, she wondered. Was it like hers? Like every nerve in your body flaring to life at once and exploding in a supernova of ecstasy. Was it better? Not as good? She didn’t know.
Judging by Randy’s enthralled face, it must feel pretty goddamn nice.
Debbie used both hands on him now. One tugged the length of his cock, but her other massaged only the tip. Randy howled between his teeth as his orgasm erupted.
The tiny notch of Randy’s cock opened and a jet of shimmering white surged through. He came so fast and hard that she heard it splatter on the shopping cart. Continue reading
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Debbie peered down the aisle. No customers or workers. No cameras down this aisle either. Apparently this grocery chain didn’t worry about shoplifters slouching away with Italian food in their pockets.
She stepped close to Randy, close enough that her breasts brushed his arm.
He had time to say “Wha–” before Debbie seized the bulk of his cock beneath his khakis. Its heat baked through the cloth to her hand.
Randy cried out. Debbie shuffled closer, holding his cock with one hand and his cart with the other. With the sex deprivation he suffered, she wouldn’t be surprised if he came with just her touch.
“Is this what you need, Randy?” she whispered. Her fingertips teased him through his pants, brushing lightly at the base of his cock then running up its rigid length to gently nip the wide head. Continue reading
Randy laughed nervously and glanced around. At a large melon display, an old lady glared at them. Randy glared back then ushered Debbie down the pasta aisle.
“Twice,” Debbie hissed. “Fucking twice,” she repeated. She settled her hand on his shoulder. She felt the heat of his skin beneath his shirt. Her eyes flicked to his nipples again and the thought of nibbling them overwhelmed her.
She thought, If you were mine, we’d only leave the bedroom to replenish body fluids.
“It’s been hard. Especially after I hired that new paralegal, Kristen. She hasn’t made her needs very subtle,” Randy said.
“No one would blame you,” Debbie said. “I mean, sex is something you NEED to do. Like sleeping. Or eating. Or fucking breathing for the love of God. Twice.” Continue reading
But, of course, her errant mind imagined reaching out a hand and playfully pinching one nipple, kissing him as he flinched with the pain and pleasure.
Stop it, Debbie, she told herself.
Randy said something, but her daydreaming mind had missed it.
“What’s that? Sorry, daydreaming,” she said.
Randy rattled a cart out of the clustered bunch and pushed it. Debbie put her hand on its edge, absently guiding it. The grocery stores air conditioning blasted them. Debbie wore a thick enough shirt that it didn’t matter, but she knew Randy’s nipples would be even more prominent. She’d have to resist looking. Or tweaking. Continue reading
Debbie knew one thing about her sister: she was a bitch. How or why a nice guy like Randy could end up with someone so cruel boggled Debbie’s mind. It’s like Mr. Rodgers marrying Cruella de Vil. It’s a travesty.
Her week long visit to her sister’s house (which, incidentally, also belonged to Randy) limped into its third day. Debbie couldn’t wait to get home, and she still had three days to go. She wouldn’t make it. Thirty-eight was too old to waste an entire weekend someplace she didn’t want to be. And, apparently, she wasn’t wanted…
Except by Randy, of course. Continue reading
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