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The whore around town
What do you think of the whore in your midst?
The one you see grocery shopping, tapping a grapefruit to test for freshness, inquiring about specials in the meat department. That kind of thing.
Oh, she knows about specials in the meat department. She’s handled enough meat to run the operation.
Maybe not everyone can tell, but there’s a slight sway to this woman’s hips when she wanders the aisles. Her feet are planted firm in their steps. Her hands and fingers hold the handle of the shopping cart with a certain sure grace.
She’s on her way home from work, stopping to buy dinner ingredients for her family’s supper. Her clothes look relatively normal - a knee length casual skirt and light summer blouse, cute sandals. Hair curly and tousled, sunglasses perched atop the head.
Under her skirt, she wears her fourth or fifth set of undies for the day, over top of a warm, scented, clean, fucked and orgasmed cunt. Her thighs squish together and bury the hot smell of her juicy sex.
The cunt is satiated, for now.
It’s the tummy that grumbles.
The family members, too, pulling at heart strings, the dogs needing a walk. Hopefully the house isn’t too messy when she arrives home, she muses, examining and comparing two bags of avocados. It’s Taco Tuesday.
She begins strolling down the baking aisle, scouting for chocolate chips. Everyone wants banana muffins and of course, they won’t eat them without chocolate chips.
Suddenly she feels a sweet throb in her clitoris. She’s nearly fresh from orgasm, her last session being only an hour ago. Yes, she had a real orgasm (this time). He was patient, and deft with his hands. She knelt beside him with her legs wide apart, squeezing and stroking hard straight dick, while he fondled her clit slowly.
It was difficult for her to slow down her own hand as she worked his cock. She felt so excited by his slow, gentle rubbing, she began to jerk him off faster. When he inserted two (neatly-trimmed) fingers into her wanting pussy, she started coming all over his hand and wrist, wetting his forearm.
Just then he ejaculated with great intensity, his creamy froth erupting and flowing down over her excited fingers just the way her own juice bathed his whole hand and forearm.
This particular memory of the day caused the shopper to pause, trembling, next to the powdered sugar, while her being swelled.
She gazes at the different bright-colours of icing. How sweet they always taste, too sweet in fact - with a shiver down her legs, the spasm of arousal passes.
The whore returns to her shopping.
She heads down the cleaning aisle to locate some dish soap and paper towels. Throwing them in her cart, she pauses, licking her lips. Checks her phone in case one of the family members has left a text about any last-minute items. Oh- yes - they need noodle soups - not the cheap kind, the good kind.
She grabs a couple five-packs and heads into produce.
At the banana stand, she searches for a bunch that will be the perfect shade of pale creamy yellow, tinged with light green. The kids will complain about these hard lime-green ones here. And those bananas with a few black spots will be instant rejects.
She bites her lip, frowning. Looks up.
Just across from her, on the other side of the bananas, is her 9am client from today.
The moment she comes to this realization, he seems to notice her for the first time.
Their eyes meet.
He’s got a phone in one hand and a stem of broccoli in the other.
She knows the exact shape of his cock - medium sized with lots of popping veins and a large, purplish knob of a head. He shaves his balls and tidies his pubic hair, so that he’s nice and clean for her. Also, he loves to have his ass tickled and probed with a finger, so he shaves the area and scrubs it squeaky clean, and gives himself a little syringe enema to ensure her comfort.
His mouth opens into a little “o” as he stares at her in brief, confused surprise - two separated worlds mixing incoherently - and it occurs to her that its shape isn’t entirely dissimilar to his asshole.
She smiles. But only quickly and with cool aloofness. Then flicks her eyes away.
Looks one more time, licking her lips.
His hand still grips the stalk of broccoli. The tidy half-moons of his fingernails, trimmed so they can slide easily and comfortably into her sweet warm crevices, flash bright as he involuntarily squeezes the vegetable he’s holding.
She slides away, eyes down again. Her cunt gives a deep throb.
Her thighs feel a little moist and warm from all the action today. Three sessions, two of them 90 minutes. She imagines the beautiful shower she’ll take once she arrives home, washing away the remnants of cum splashed all over her chest, hands, thighs, chin and neck.
At the checkout, there he is again.
Pants bulging. Furtive gaze dropping to the centre of her moist thighs, knowing the exact shape of her pussy and how it took him in.
The whore opens her wallet to pay - in cash, of course. The man’s six hundred dollar bills poke out of the bank envelope he brought her this morning. She takes out a couple and pays for her groceries.
He wasn’t her best today. No, she’s still remembering that other adventure following his visit, the one that left her so trembling, wet and messy. The one that deserves another story, another time.
Feeling the money her hand, the dried sweat on her belly and loins, she thought to herself: All the same, it does pay the bills.