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That morning in their town's supermarket, under the bright lights and low AC, he held his place at the meat department waiting for his turn. Right in front of that long row designed to serve several customers in parallel, just like cattle on both sides of the counter.
His partner grazed his butt casually, kissed his right cheek, and left with the shopping cart to make some progress with the rest of their list.
The chatty and unhurried old lady in front of him finally finished. The clerk cleaned her knives against each other. Then she lifted up her black kitchen hat, with that thin net covering her black hair.
"Are you dealing with raw meat back there? Would you mind bringing me another package of ground meat?" she asked her coworker behind the counter too.
"You want me to touch my meat!? I already did at home this morning! HAHAHAHAHA" the other replied raucously.
That short, chunky lady made her blush with her unwarranted remark. With no time to waste, she turned back to him lowering down her sight in embarrassment.
"12 sausages, please." He said politely, then dropped his paper number in a little plastic box right by the ticket dispenser.
What a gentleman, the clerk thought. Not common in this blue-collar town. Cement factories, construction workers, and large plantations. Rude men and mean looking ladies always behind their smoky cigarettes. A simple please and thank you made a big difference. And for that, he turned her on like hell. Every time he visited the store she thought he was so suave.
There was something about this lady, his mind wandered bored like hell by these daily chores. Her sultry lips, deep glance, and shy-quiet ways. His girlfriend was the total package, so he had never found a need to flirt, but every time she had been her checker at the checkout and she had offered discounted stuff, for whatever silly reason, he had conceded hoping it would at least help her reach some sale quotas.
Master Butcher read a tag on her sleeve, right above her name, Selena. These big corporations, you never know... he thought, those evil corporate minds. She seemed proud about it though. In his mental kingdom of boredom, he thought that, what a pity, those ugly grocery store uniforms didn't let him sense anything her curves. He also thought why didn't it say Mistress? And then he hoped she'd made some kind of remark, so that he could use a joke he knew. "Two sausages on the grill, then one tells the other..." he thought going over it once and again.
Meanwhile, she grabbed the sausages slowly; and one by one she imagined it was his penis.
Still bored, he noticed the nearby presence of the food truck lady. They must have run out of mayo, he guessed. She and her husband always parked their burgers stand in front of the groceries, a clever strategy that was pretty successful. She wasn't wearing the usual apron and damn, she had a rack. Good for her on her glorious 58s.
Meanwhile, his girlfriend had been distracted glancing at him from the dairy section aisle. He was in the zone she felt. He never knew that his absent minded persona gave him a mystery aura that ladies couldn't resist. She couldn't explain, but something about his hair length, unshaven cheeks and casual clothes gave her tingles down there. She noticed how the clerk shied out and how some other ladies in the store casually ogled him. Only she knew what kind of tooling her handsome husband kept between his legs and that gave her a lady boner.
She smirked and came back to meet him. Selena acknowledged her and couldn't prevent realizing that she stood no other chance than her secret fantasies. She found her so striking that she almost felt like giving it a try with women.
He took the sausages bag, which had been prepared and arranged with the maximum care, politely said thanks and bye. They turned around and left while she whispered sensually: "Let's go to the car, I crave your body and I won't stop until I dry up your nuts inside me."
Those two, Selena thought while they walked away, so casual, so environment friendly with their fabric bags, always checking the local or proximity shelves.
"Do you want to hear a joke?" He asked his girlfriend while being virtually dragged out by her.
"I know: It's getting hot here, one says. Aaah! a sausage that talks! yells the other," she replied automatically.
"Hurry up!, I'm really horny."
Before they were able to make it to the parking lot, Selena was already using her programmed break in the employees bathroom masturbating wildly. Her pants and wet panties were down around her ankles, her feet rested flat on the walls of the tiny toilet. Her left fist was almost fully inside her vagina and her right fingers rubbed furiously around her clit. She applied no "She comes first" slow building up techniques, caresses, or any of that kind of stuff. Her pussy was on fire and she rubbed several good ones in no time. She muffled her screams covering her mouth with her wet hand, enjoying the musky smell of her own sex.
After dropping their food bags in the backseat, they hopped by their side and slammed the door shut.
Whispering to him always worked. "Hurry," she told him lifting up her skirt, pulling down his trousers and revealing his erection. She sat by him and jerked it until she couldn't tell that cock from a boat mast. She then pumped slowly while groping his balls. She assessed they were full and ready for her.
She sat getting him fully in her. With throaty yell followed by a long deep moan, she arched her head back feeling how he got so deep and that it felt as if he was stabbing her and his glans were poking her womb.
That's when she started the ride. It was steamy and intense in there. She only worried about her pleasure and rubbed groin to groin desperately. She knew he'd hold back and that she'd easily finish him reverse cowboy later if she needed to. Pussy power, she called it.
From all her many past boyfriends, he was the one that filled her up the most and the one that lasted longer. She had created several of premature ejaculators on her way to him so she knew how to appreciate this. Especially knowing about her ex-husband. That lame dicklet was not half the man this one was. She shook her head thinking how she had ever been able to live with that prick that merely poked her entrance all soft. Now that she had tasted this all the way in, as if she was fucking that baguette that was poking out on the top of one of their bags, she knew she'd never go back to smaller, which made her hump him harder and harder.
In the middle of this frenzy, she though that he needed a good reward after replenishing fluids, in the form of a good blowjob and having him come on her face.
What did he think? Hnestly, not much blood was reaching his brain to be able to form any thoughts. A while later he thought about many things in order stand her frantic grinding. From all the ways they made love, her pussy was his favorite: it grabbed his shaft and pumped him heavenly while always so wet. She was the only one able to bring him back to real life in body and mind.
The darkened windows of their small car paid off: the grasp of her inner vagina clamped him as she spasmed and her whole body quivered. At that pace, the car suspension would need a check in no time.
The slow old lady walked behind their car in the parking lot while it was still shaking and complained. "Again!?"
Days later they came back to the store and the master butcher was found nowhere. Probably they hire seasonally to cut down on salary costs, he thought. He also thought that for some weeks he would at least save the money he spend buying her sales. And then thought and thought about many more things; to divert his mind from the painful routine he had so much trouble bearing.
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