Check-Out Line

It was about 3 on a Saturday afternoon, about six years ago. I had gone to the supermarket for the weekly grocery shopping. I was 27, a single guy with a good teaching career, not bad looking at 6 feet and 170 pounds. I worked out frequently and was told I had a "smoking" body by at least a couple of the "gym rats", as I called the girls who I saw regularly. I dated often but hadn't found what I considered the "right" girl yet.

I was waiting at the deli counter when I first spotted her. She was 5'10, about 140, wearing a baggy sweatshirt over skintight bike pants, legs stuffed into a pair of Uggs. Even through the sweatshirt you could see the curve of perfect breasts -- 34C, I would later find out. The bike pants accented every curve of her tight, muscular ass. Her toned legs seemed to go on forever. You could see the tautness of her leg muscles through the pants. She had curly light-brown hair that fell past her shoulders.

Even looking at her from a distance, she looked like she belonged on the cover of Vogue.

We just glanced at each other for a second, and smiled.

I picked up my order and headed off to my next stop in the store, the dairy section.

I reached for the last container of lemon yogurt, and noticed a hand also trying to take it. I got to it first. I looked up... and found myself staring into the warmest brown eyes I had ever seen. It was the girl from the deli counter. Without thinking twice, I handed her the yogurt container. I could see she had high, round cheekbones, and full lips that, when she smiled, opened onto a set of absolutely straight white teeth. Even without makeup, this woman was absolutely drop-dead gorgeous. I smiled at her, nodded, and walked off.

After picking up a few more items, I decided I needed Cheerios. I headed towards the cereal aisle. I walked towards the center of the aisle, towards the Cheerios section, and stopped in my tracks.

There she was, kneeling, trying to figure out which box of Cheerios she should take.

I shook my head, but decided not to fight it. I walked over, knelt down, and said "Hmm, this one looks okay." She looked up, startled... but looked right into my eyes and gave me another warm smile.

We ran into each other three more times in our travels around the store. Each time, the same thing happened -- we'd stop, look at each other, smile and move on. My shopping completed, I walked over to the checkout lines, and absent-mindedly got on the shortest one.

You guessed it. She was right in front of me.

I was never bold when it came to talking to women. Quite the opposite, I was somewhat on the timid side. But I was feeling rather confident that day, and I decided to take the risk.

"Excuse me, miss, and I know this is probably going to sound like the worst pickup line in history, but I have to ask you: what is someone who looks like you doing in a supermarket this late on a Saturday afternoon, when she should be getting ready for a date?"

She contemplated me for a moment. I almost instantly regretted saying it. I stood there, waiting to get shot down.

She finally answered. She had a soft, melodious, measured voice. I guessed -- correctly, as it turned out -- that she was a singer.

"Because guys always presume that someone who looks like me already has a boyfriend. Therefore, someone who looks like me never gets asked out. Someone who looks like me, who according to you should have a date, is probably going to spend this night, like I do so many others, watching a romantic movie on TV."

I appreciated the blunt honesty of her answer. I also liked that she was entering into the spirit of the game.

I answered, "So let's suppose that someone who looks like me asked someone who looks like you out on a date -- tonight, right now, under these same circumstances. What would someone who looks like you do?"

She took a pen out of her purse, wrote on the back of her groceries receipt, and handed it to me. She said, "Someone who looks like me would write her address and phone number on the first piece of paper she could find, give it to you, and tell you to pick her up in two hours."

I quickly read the phone number and the address, and realized she lived only a few blocks away from me. I let her know about it. She said, "I figured you lived close. One generally shops near where they live.

"And, by the way, Sherlock, it also helps if you ask someone who looks like me her name. I'm Lori."

Sassy. I liked her attitude. I was so in shock that she'd talked to me at all that I'd forgotten to even introduce myself. Boy, did I feel like a dumbass.

"Sorry. I'm Mike." We shook hands. Her hands were warm and soft. Yet she had a very firm grip.

"Hi, Mike. Call me when you get home, just so you can satisfy yourself that the number I gave you isn't the local pizzeria. That way, I'll also have your number on my caller ID. Wait a second, give me back the receipt. I want to add one more thing." I handed it back to her, and watched her scribble something quickly on it. She handed it back to me. "Put that in your pocket. Don't read it until you get to your car. See you later."

I watched her walk out -- she turned and gave me a big smile as she left -- and I hurriedly bagged up my groceries and put them in the car. As Lori had instructed, I then pulled out her receipt and read it.

"5:30 P.M. Don't be late." The O and 0 were drawn in the shape of a heart. She also did a little drawing that looked like puckered lips.

I said to myself: That didn't just happen. It COULDN'T have been that easy. An amazingly hot girl like that, and a dopey line like I used actually WORKED? I'm not that lucky.

Fifteen minutes later, after I got home and hurriedly put away my groceries, I dialed the number she had given me. The phone rang once, then clicked.

"Is this Mike, my gorgeous sweet guy from the grocery store?", Lori purred in that same tuneful voice.

"Pepperoni pie, extra cheese, to go? And don't forget the garlic knots."

She laughed uproariously. "I was waiting for you to call. Do you mind if I pick the place for tonight?"

She suggested a dance bar, which would have a karaoke contest later that night. "Oh, don't worry," she said, "I'll make sure we get a nice quiet table so we can eat and talk. A friend of mine manages the place, so she'll seat us wherever I ask her to. We have to get to know each other, of course."

"I'm afraid I'm not much of a dancer, Lori. Two left feet, you know."

She laughed. "Then we'll just have to do the karaoke contest. Do you like to sing?"

"Been in and out of bands since my teens. Yeah, I think I'm pretty good. I'm more of a classic rock guy."

"Me too. Pat Benatar, Stevie Nicks. That type of music."

Already, we had something in common. I told her my parents had practically weaned me on the British invasion, had taken me to see Paul McCartney when I was ten, the Who when I was thirteen. My mother had been in the audience when both the Beatles and the Stones had debuted on Ed Sullivan.

"Wow, that's so cool. I LOVE Joan Jett. Why don't we sing 'I Love Rock and Roll' together?"

"Sounds like a plan."

"Remember what I wrote on the receipt. DON'T be late."

There was more chance of Elvis rising from the dead than of that happening.

I've rarely been more anxious for a date. I showered, shaved carefully and brushed my teeth about 5 times. I was out the door at 5:15 and headed over to her place five minutes away. She was standing in front of her building when I arrived. I saw her from half a block away... and almost drove into a car in front of me.

She was wearing a form-fitting black mini-dress, with a red belt around her waist and a plunging neckline that revealed LOTS of cleavage. The dress seemed to end only a few inches below the crotch. Her legs were absolutely perfect, ending in a pair of short, high-heeled boots. All of this was topped off by a short black leather jacket. Her hair and makeup were similarly impeccable.

I pulled up in front of her, popped out and opened the door for her. She was slightly taken aback, then said, "I'm not used to gentlemen who actually hold car doors open for ladies." She smiled, and did a little pirouette so I could see the whole package. As I got into the car, she said, "So? You like?"

"LIKE? I already know the hottest girl who will be at this club is walking in on MY arm! I feel like I just won the lottery. God, you look absolutely STUNNING!"

She leaned in and gave me a little peck on the cheek. "Keep throwing out lines like that, boy, and there'll be NO limits to what happens to you at the end of the evening!" I didn't even want to think in terms like that for a first date. Mama raised a gentleman, you know. She gave me directions to the club, which took about 20 minutes to drive to. I had to drive with one hand, as she held my other arm the entire drive.

We arrived, and were seated by Lori's friend Joy, the club manager. As promised, it was a quiet table in a corner, away from the dance floor. We ordered dinner and commenced getting to know each other.

We found out that I was two years older than her, she was Catholic (I was Jewish, but that didn't matter to her -- she even said she hadn't been to church since she was in grade school), was a partner in a clothing business and did a lot of work from home, liked the same baseball team I did, much of the same music, and was also a trivia fan and had won some contests. I couldn't believe how flawless this girl seemed. We laughed, held hands a LOT, told a lot of jokes. Lori had a very bawdy sense of humor and didn't flinch from telling the occasional dirty joke. Suddenly, it seemed, we had been talking for nearly four hours. I didn't care. She was like an addictive drug. It seemed like we were the only two people in the club, which was jammed up.

We heard them announce the karaoke contest. We actually signed up twice -- for "I Love Rock and Roll", and Sheryl Crow's and Kid Rock's "Picture" ("I want us to sing a ballad together", she explained). The first song she really hammed up -- playing air guitar and grinding up against me while she was singing. She had a beautiful voice, by the way. She had an instinct for harmony, as I did, and our voices meshed together really well. On the second song, we spent the entire time staring into each other's eyes. We didn't need the monitor -- we both knew the words. At the end of the song, after the last line ("I just called to say I love you/Come back home"), we wrapped our arms around each other and kissed for the first time... deeply, passionately, melting into each other. We didn't care that the entire club was whooping and hollering for us. It was just us. Only WE mattered at that moment.

It was almost 1 A.M. when we left, our arms around each other and her head on my shoulder. Neither of us wanted the date to end, it seemed. While driving back, every time we stopped at a light, we stared into one another's eyes. It was a seemingly timeless, beautiful moment. We arrived back at her house, and she said, "My apartment's a mess. Keep driving. Your place."

I was surprised at the request. I had NEVER expected to bring ANY girl back to my place on a first date. I asked if she was sure. "I don't want to ruin this. This has been the best first date I've ever had."

"It's not over yet. If I didn't want to be with you, I wouldn't have suggested going back to your place."

I resolved right then and there that I was going to be the complete gentleman -- that if there were going to be any moves, she would make them.

We got back to my house. I poured drinks, put a DVD into the player and sat down on the couch with her. "Ooh. When Harry Met Sally. How did you know that's one of my favorite movies?" I'd been paying attention, and remembered that she'd said that she had planned to watch a romantic movie that night. It was one of the best ones I knew. She took off her boots, lay back on the couch and put her legs up on my lap. I couldn't help but look at her legs, the shape of her rear, her pert tits balanced atop her perfectly sculpted, long, lithe body. I longingly looked and speculated on the wonders that lay underneath that tiny skirt. But always, always, I reminded myself that I'd said I would not make a move and risk ruining the moment.

We spent far more time gazing at each other than we did at the movie.

About halfway through, she excused herself to go to the bathroom. She told me, before she left, that I should shut off the movie and watch what I liked. I put on Sports Center and started getting the previous day's sports scores. I heard her footsteps, waited for her to rejoin me on the couch.

She did, but not as I'd expected. She plopped herself down on my lap. She was completely naked. She wrapped her arms around me, and gave me a long, passionate kiss with lots of tongue.

"Lori, should we really do this? I've fucked girls on the first date and then gotten shot down when I called them back for the next. I think we've got something really special here. I don't want to blow it."

She kissed me again, deeply. "We were obviously attracted to each other in the supermarket. You have ABSOLUTELY, one hundred and fifty percent done everything right from the moment we first talked. You've been fun, smart, considerate, gallant and everything a guy should be to a girl on a first date. Whatever we wind up doing now, I know there will be a second date... and a third... and a fourth."

She looked me in my eyes and kissed my forehead. "Just know something. I'm not some nympho slut who bangs every guy on the first date. We're adults here. We both seem to want the same thing. I don't feel that we're going to be 'fucking'. How we feel about each other -- and I think it's pretty obvious - we're going to be 'making love'."

She opened her legs slightly, and took my hand and guided it onto her pussy. "I just HAD to get out of my panties. They have been soaking wet since we sang 'Picture' together. Touch me there... AHHHHH!!!" she exclaimed as my middle finger found her clit. "Ooh, baby, RIGHT there!! You've got it!! AHHHH!!!", she moaned as she held me tighter. I was still fully clothed, but I could sense her wetness and my erection was growing. I hooked my middle finger around the entrance to her pussy, and fingered her clit with my index finger. She shook uncontrollably as the first, violent orgasm almost instantly hit her. "AaaaaaaAAAAAAAHHHHHH, yeah, baby, that's it!!!! Finger-fuck me THERE!!!!! Oh, YEAH, baby, you are DOING it to me!!!" She took my head and pushed it down onto one of her creamy breasts. "Oooh, yeah, baby, SUCK my tits while you finger me. MAKE me come again!!! Oh, YEAH, this feels so good!!!", she purred as I did as she asked.

I couldn't believe it. This absolutely GORGEOUS, hot, horny woman was on my lap. How did I get so lucky?

After yet another jolting orgasm, she climbed off me. "Oooh, baby, get up. Let's go inside and REALLY have some fun!" She climbed up on me as I stood so that I was carrying her piggy-back. She licked my ear the entire 30 feet or so between bedroom and living room.

When we got to the bedroom, she sweetly, seductively said, "No, not yet. I want to unwrap this present myself!" I kicked off my shoes and socks as she removed my shirt. She then slowly undid my belt and button and pulled down my zipper, as if she was unveiling a painting. She dropped my pants, then my underwear. My 6 ½ inches of manhood stood less than an inch from her mouth. She opened her mouth slightly and slowly, tantalizingly flicked her tongue out towards my penis. I shuddered the second her tongue made contact. She gently licked around the edge of my penis-head, then motioned for me to lie down on the bed. She knelt down between my legs and took all of me, down to the base, into her mouth. Carefully, teasingly, she moved up and down on my shaft, moaning and slurping away. After a couple of minutes of sucking, she moved up, straddling my stomach and kissing me deeply. She then lay down next to me, legs wide open, and purred, "You know what to do now. Give me everything you've got!"

I positioned myself, then slowly buried my member into her soft, wet love tunnel. How easily I slid into her! And how warm it felt in there! She put her head back and softly cooed. She wrapped her arms around my neck and her legs around my waist as I began pumping.

There was no way I was going to rush this. I wanted to make this last and last.

I tried to push on the upper end of her vagina, trying to rub against her clit. Her satisfied "Ooooohhh!" and her tightening grip told me that I'd found the right spot. We kissed, we licked each other, nibbled on each other's necks. All the while I was pushing in and out at a moderate pace.

"Ooooh, Mike, that feels great!!!! Make me come again!!! Harder!!! Oh, yeah, harder!!!!" I felt her trembling and her voice began rising higher. "Oh, yeah, FUCK me, baby!!! Yeah, you've got the right spot!!! FUCK me!!! FUCK ME!!!!!" I kissed her, mainly because I wanted to, but also because I was starting to become concerned that the neighbors might hear. She seemed to be somewhat of a screamer. She turned away from my mouth and yelled, practically right into my ear, "AAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!" as a monstrous orgasmic wave hit her. She was shaking uncontrollably and was digging her nails into my back.

"Now it's MY turn. Lie on your back. I want to fuck you for a little while."

We changed positions, and she lowered herself onto my cock. I was totally enjoying my view of this goddess, bouncing up and down fervently on my cock, her body glistening with sweat in the dark, me playing with her tits, her rubbing her hands all over her body and waving her arms overhead almost triumphantly. After a couple of minutes, her body started shaking and she screamed out another orgasm.

She leaned in and kissed me on the mouth, a long, probing kiss with lots of tongue. "Mmmmm, I could do this forever. What an amazing lover you are! Do you like my hot pussy?"

"Are you kidding, Lori? Who wouldn't?"

"Get back on top of me and finish the job! I want you to shoot into me so hard that I feel the taste of your cum in the back of my throat!"

We returned to missionary, her arms and legs tightly wrapped around my body as I held her around her waist and pushed myself into her as deeply as I could. Her pussy contracted around my cock as if it were trying to suck my cum out of me by itself. I pushed quickly and deeply, concentrating on her clit and trying to see if I could coax one more orgasm out of her. Her trembling and shaking, plus a long, loud "OOOOOooohhh!!!" told me that I had succeeded. I then felt the rumbling inside myself, and screamed out "AAAAGGGGHHHH" as the welcome release came. I felt jolt after jolt as I sprayed my love juice into her. She shoved her tongue into my ear, then kissed me hard on my neck as she felt me coming. I gave her a good seven or eight long squirts, then fell exhausted onto her shoulder. We held each other close in the darkness, gasping and heaving, kissing when we had breath.

When I got too soft, I pulled out and rolled off her and onto my back. Lori rolled towards me, lay her head on my shoulder, and wrapped her arms around me as I pulled her close.

"Mike, I can't believe you held out for that long. No guy has EVER made me come that many times!"

She looked at me, kissed me softly on my neck, and then said, "I wouldn't mind doing that EVERY day."

I kissed her on her soft, inviting lips. I felt the same way. I said to her, "If you want, you can take a shower before I drive you home." I saw her start up, with disappointment written all over her face. I quickly caught myself. "In the morning, of course. There's no WAY I'd dream of you leaving now." She settled back onto my shoulder.