She lent back flat on the boot of the car, undoing the buttons of her jeans. Tory wriggled out of them, providing a glimpse of her gold thong on her even golden body.
'What are you waiting for?' she asked widening her legs to improve his.
Tory could see the drool at the corner of his mouth. He pulled her thong aside to feel how wet she was. His groan was excessively loud, making Tory fearful security may hear.
She hadn't been fingered since her teenage years, but his hands were long and fine. Tory presumed he was an office worker, figuring he was an accountant or from another boring profession which would account for why he hadn't been laid in such a long time. As his fingers explored her slit, she bore down, insinuating his fingers alone were not satisfactory.
He removed them and licked them, his face beaming.
'Undo my boots,' directed Tory.
He unzipped them, slipping them off and placing them in the car. Tory kicked her jeans to the ground, leaving her naked from the waist down. That sticky summer weather made her vagina feel humid. She lay breathing heavily, waiting for his next move. Rising on her elbows to see what the hold-up was, Tory saw a middle-aged man delighting in the body of a nubile young(ish) creature.
Tory reached down with her hands to spread her pussy wide, exposing the cavity requiring stuffing.
'Are you going to fuck me or not?'
She saw the proud purple penis approaching and waited for entry.
'You got a condom?' he asked.
Now she knew for certain he was married. Single men almost always carried condoms. Having somewhat killed the atmosphere with the question, she sat up straight, knocking her head on the roof of the car. Rummaging through her expansive handbag she located one.
'Can you put it on? I don't know how.'
She appreciated when married condoms didn't feature heavily in rare restricted sex lives. Some women may have found his inexperience or unfamiliarity with safe sex sweet, but Tory thought him immature — destined to be a poor lover.
She rolled the latex firmly down his shaft. Tory hadn't intended the gesture to be arousing but as her tight grip on his boner secured the condom, she was concerned he might come there and then in the simple process.
Losing was never an option for Tory.
'Fuck me.'
He charged his cock in. Tory was pleased at the girth. She loved the stretch at the entrance of her slit. It made her feel tight, made her feel like she was able to pleasure her partner. As predicted the excitement of having sex, severely impeded his performance. As he rammed repeatedly into her, all she could think of was a Duracell bunny — and how much cuter they were than this married midnight shopper inventing tasks to avoid returning home to his wife.
'Fuck me harder and deeper,' she commanded.
He obliged.
'Grab my hips. Pull me right on your cock. Then slam all you want.'
Obeying her instructions, he was satisfied with the depth of penetration her commands allowed. As he banged, her back would automatically arch accommodating his full length. He relished the sensation and remained lodged in her, ensuring she couldn’t wriggle away.
Excited, he climbed into the back of the car. Because of its size it had generous room for copulation. The position became more missionary, more formal, and in Tory's view, more boring. She allowed him to grind away on top. A degree of pleasure was derived knowing this man wanted nothing more than to fuck her senseless.
'How brave are you?' she asked.
Accepting the question as rhetorical, he withdrew to roll off her.
'Get out,' she ordered. 'Stand where you originally were.'
He did as he was told, forgetting he was the car's owner.
Sitting up Tory, kept her legs wide. Her hands blindly diving into the plastic bags she retrieved a banana. It wasn’t original, but it would be a scene for him to remember her by. Guiding the banana in and out, she kept her eyes locked with his. He appeared hypnotised from her violation of his fresh fruit. Leaving one hand to work the banana as a dildo, her other caressed her clit. She licked her fingers to lube her nub, minimising the duration of masturbation required before orgasm.
He watched in silence. When Tory shoved the banana in deep, her body rocking the car's suspension, he knew she'd reached her peak. He wanted to come to. Standing he wanked his cock in front of her. Tory played along, pretending to be enthralled with his solo performance. Having slowed the pace, her patience was wearing thin.
Tory leapt out of the car.
'Rub it between my slippery lips. Tell me if you like how it feels.'
She bent slightly, resting her hands on the inside of the car boot. Without penetrating, he slid his prick between her sodden lips. As he did, Tory removed her camera-phone from her bra, lowered it between her legs and attempted to take a picture to record the sexual interaction.
The flash was bright in the midnight skies, but he didn't notice. The snug fit of her wet lips, cosying his cock was all it took. He came instantly, clenching her hips, forcing her to remain in place as he climaxed.
Released, Tory scoured for her thong, slipped on her jeans, threw her boots on and walked off without a word. She spun round to take a photo as he gawped at her cold-hearted disappearance and absent goodbye.
Getting in her red VW, she took a final photo of the supermarket and headed home.
***
'Done,' boasted Tory on the phone to Lauren the next day.
'How do I know you're not lying?'
'Wait one minute,' recommended Tory as she texted the photos to her friend's phone.
Lauren received one snap of the supermarket entrance displaying the time as 11.02pm. The next photo timed at 11.23pm was blurry but appeared to be a penis embedded in Tory's shaven haven. The third photo at 11.41pm showed a man in a business suit with his pants down in the car park of the mega supermarket. The final photo at 11.43pm was of the exit sign of the supermarket car-park.
'It's only been two days. How did you manage it?'
'Oh Lauren, seriously don't you watch any dating shows. People always meet in supermarkets. It was easy peasy. I thought you'd have come up with something much more difficult.'
'I can't believe you did it. I've got eight days before my summer sex break finishes.'
'How are you getting on at the library?' asked Tory innocently.
'You knew I was never going to meet a guy there. There's a no speaking policy; it's not like I can start a conversation with every good-looking guy wanting to borrow a book.'
'What about asking the library assistant or receptionist to help you find a book on depraved sex? That'll arouse serious attention'
'Given the employees are all women in their sixties, that's not a winning solution.'
'Think outside the box Lauren. Have some confidence. I hope I hear from you in the next eight days.'
It turned out Tory heard from Lauren the following afternoon.
'What is it?' asked Tory brusquely. 'It's bingo. You know I need to get my marker pens ready before Gran and I hit the crone coach with all the demented and dentured bingo bitches.'
'How does your Gran cope with you talking bout her friends like that?'
'Fuck's sake Lauren. There are no friends in bingo. I'd elbow Gran off her seat if I saw she was waiting on one number to call “house”.'
'I need to borrow Lucy.'
'Lauren, when you're a grown up like me you'll realise you don't borrow babies.'
'Come on, I need her help with this sex thing.'
'Has progress been made?'
'Not much. Built a plan though.'
'I don't remember my baby being a bargaining chip.'