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Subject: FRESH PRODUCE (M/F, PUBLIC SEX)
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FRESH PRODUCE

By Bernadette
copyright 1998

**************************************************************************
INTENDED FOR ADULTS AGE 18 OR OLDER
**************************************************************************

"Ma'am, are you okay?"

Nora looked up from the cold, linoleum floor where she lay blinded by the
bright florescent lights.  For a brief instant, she thought she had died and
gone to heaven.

"May I help you?  Do you need medical assistance?"

As her vision began to focus, Nora realized she was staring directly into the
biggest pair of dark blue eyes she had ever seen. His gentle face was encased
by ringlets of jet-black hair.

The Angel Gabriel had come to bring her to heaven and she was -- lying flat on
her "ass."

"I think I need mouth-to-mouth resuscitation!" she murmured.

He smiled and extended a slightly muscular arm to help her to her feet.  The
entire back of her dress was drenched with chocolate milk.

"What happened?" he asked.

She could feel her face becoming beet-red.  This was surely the most
embarrassing moment of her life, but Thank Heavens she wasn't going to be on
"Candid Camera."  She hoped.

"Can't be for certain.  One never knows why one falls.  I am known to be a
klutz."  Nora suddenly wished he would just vanish and leave her in peace
during her moment of  pathetic self-pity and humiliation.

"Hey, guess there's no use crying over spilled milk!"  he replied.

His response didn't help at all.  It just increased her desire to cry.

"Um . . . that was pretty lame, sorry.  Look, are you sure you're okay?
Perhaps we should call the manager and fill out a form or something . . .you
could file a law suit if you're hurt."

"No, no, I am fine -- really.  The only thing bruised here is my ego." She
refrained from making any negative comments about the degree to which her
well- padded, but shapely derriere had cushioned the fall.

Now it was his turn not to laugh.

"Well," she said, "Welcome to Cliché City!  Now we're even.  One-to-one.  Tit-
for-Tat."

"Yeah, like meeting in a grocery store isn't the most cliché place of all.
This is getting so corny I am going to introduce myself.  Hi.  I am Henley."

"Hi, Henley, I am Nora.  Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you, Nora.  Can I treat you to another carton of chocolate
milk?"

"I feel like a complete idiot.  A well-educated, mature woman drinking
chocolate milk," Nora blushed.

"Hey, I drink it too.  Man, I still eat  Pop Tarts."  He glowed at the
thought.  Henley had dimples the size of half-dollars.

"Pop Tarts!  I used to love the chocolate ones with the marshmallow centers,"
Nora laughed.

"Not as much as I adored Captain Crunch cereal," Henley added.

Nora's brown eyes lit up like sparklers.  " I ate that every morning for ten
years."  She paused.  "No wonder my growth was stunted."

It had occurred to her that Henley was towering above her.  She was at least a
foot shorter.  He must have been 6'2", maybe more.  She felt like Sprout next
to the Jolly Green Giant.

This reminded her: she needed some French cut green beans.

"Wanna go grocery shopping, Madame?" he confidently asked.

"There is a God," Nora replied.

"Pardon me?"  Henley looked confused.

"Nothing . . . I'd love to go shopping with you, Sir.  If you don't mind being
seen with a woman with a chocolate-covered butt."

Henley laughed.  A good hearty, fiber enriched laugh.  "Not at all -- my
pleasure."

They began to stroll down Aisle Five, their carts side by side.

"Soup." Nora stopped.

"Soup, uh, soup is good.  Soup is good for you."

"Yes, that is what they say.  Hmmm.  I think I'll stick to basic tomato," Nora
said.

"You say ta-may-toe, I say ta-mai-toe," Henley sang off-key under his breath.

Aisle Six beckoned.

"Fruit."  Henley stopped.  "Canned fruit."

Yes, canned fruit is good," Nora added, "I like peaches.  Pineapples, I can
deal with pineapples too.   I like the ones shaped like little rings."

"Peaches and cream," Henley chimed in, "that would be heavenly . . .used to
stick my tongue through the hole."

"I beg your pardon?"  Nora's eyes were wider than ever.

"The pineapple rings, you never did that as a kid?"

"No, we just used them as life preservers for our Barbie dolls.  So, Henley,
do you live around here?"

"Ah, the BIG question. And I wanted to ask you first. Yes, I do.  As a
matter of fact, I do.  Live right down the road at the St. Tammany
Apartments."

"NO WAY!" she exclaimed.

"Way."

"I live there - so you can't possibly."

"Why?  Is the St. Tammany too small for the both of us?"

"Too much chocolate milk in one place.  Maybe we should lay off of it."

Henley laughed again.  Nora surmised that his choosy mother had chosen Jif, by
the depth of his dimples.  He looked around forty -- give or take a couple of
years.

He could have been reading her mind.  "How old are you Nora, if you don't mind
me asking."

"Fifty-four!"  Nora exclaimed.

"You're fifty-four?  Wow.  You look fabulous.  I am hitting the chocolate milk
again tomorrow."

Nora giggled.  "No silly, I meant the peas are only fifty-four cents a can.
Not bad."

"No, not bad for a can of peas.  Ever notice that frozen peas always look a
funny shade of green?"

"I'm thirty-eight."

"Years of age or thirty-eight cents a can?" He winked at her.

"Very funny.  Don't let me forget the coffee."

"Yes, Ma'am."  Henley stopped and grabbed a bag of rice.  "I'm thirty-nine."

"Wow.  Marvelous.  Someone my own age," Nora mused as she picked up a box of
saltines and tossed it into her basket.

"Like you said, there is a God."  Henley groaned as one of his grocery cart
wheels suddenly stiffened, forcing him to delicately negotiate the turn into
Aisle Seven.

"I really hate it when that happens," Nora remarked.  Henley suppressed the
urge to complain about the absence of lubrication.

"Fresh Produce!"  Henley exclaimed as though it were a truly novel concept.

"These red grapes look fabulous!  Look how ripe and succulent."

"HEY MISSY!  Don't be using words like "RIPE" and "SUCCULENT" around me or
I'll be squeezing the "CANTELOUPES" next!"

Henley began to juggle three russet potatoes in the air.

Nora was trying to feign an interest in the bananas as she watched him out of
the corner of her eye.  He was so handsome, so friendly and so spontaneously
funny.

"You look pretty fascinated by those bananas there.  Looking for a REAL big
one?"

"Henley, are you trying to flirt with me?" Nora batted her eyes, ever-so-
subtly.  Or perhaps ever-so-evidently.

"Yes, I believe I am.  It's not everyday you meet a beautiful, brown-eyed
brunette with a chocolate covered butt  -- a nice butt, I might add."

"Thank you."  It was a royal flush.

"You are beautiful."  Henley dropped all three of the russet potatoes on the
ground.  His expression turned serious and dream-like as they stared into one
another's eyes.

Nora felt as frozen as the vegetables in Aisle Ten.

With the speed of a dribble of Heinz Ketchup slowly emerging from a bottle in
a TV commercial, Henley reached over and kissed Nora briefly but passionately
on the lips.  Her ice cream was beginning to melt.  Any minute now it would
be turning to liquid and start seeping out of the edges of her box.

"Let's get out of here," he whispered in her ear.

Nora's common sense was telling her that leaving with Henley might not be the
most sensible idea in the world.  But a rush of adventure had came over her.
Grocery store fever.

"Okay," she said seductively.  A little too seductively, she thought.

Henley took her hand and led her down Aisle Eight.

"Where are we going?"  Nora asked.

"Wanna live life, really live it?"

"Yes, I always have -- what?"

"Tired of feeling trapped in the same environment, of living in the Saint
Tammany Apartments, your mundane job, shopping for chocolate milk and tomato
soup and overripe bananas?"

"Yes, yes!"  Nora was becoming another person.

"C'mon!"  He led her to the back of the store.  The Meat Department.

He pushed the swinging doors open to the butcher shop.  No one was back there.
It was very cold and raw meat was hanging everywhere.  Henley led her through
another door.

"How do you know your way around here?  Do this often?" Nora asked, her pulse
rate flying.

"Worked here as a teenager through high school.  There is the stock room."

He pulled her into the room and shut the door.  It was dark.

Henley immediately began to kiss her, deeply and sensually.  Nora let go and
allowed her passion to take over.  It was scary, sexy, adventurous, and
dangerous.  She knocked over a couple of boxes of Cracker Jacks as Henley
began to unbutton the front of her dress.  He kissed her neck and ran his
tongue slowly down to her breasts.  Nora could feel herself wanting more from
him as he ran his hand under her skirt and into her panties.  Their breathing
became faster and heavier.  Nora was running her hands through Henley's mass
of curls as their lips locked in an inseparable embrace.

Before she knew it, she was on the floor, amongst cartoons of chocolate chip
cookies and boxes of gingersnaps.  Nora’s dress fell to the cement floor, as
she lay in her matching black panties and bra in front of Henley’s hungry
eyes.  The thought that someone might walk in and catch them any minute made
her as creamy as a Twinkie.

"Lick me like the middle of an Oreo," she cooed.

"Baby, I will eat the best part first and save the rest for last," Henley
replied as he pulled down her lace panties and ran his hand between her wet
thighs.  His fingers easily slid from her buttocks to her vagina, where his
fingers nestled deep inside her love hole.  She moaned in ecstasy, then
spread her legs as wide as she possibly could, almost hoping someone would
walk in and watch - in all her glory.

"Oh Nora," Henley mumbled as he gently massaged her anus with one hand and
rubbed her clit with the other.

"Henley, oh God, that feels wonderful," she exclaimed in pleasant surprise.

"Not as wonderful as it smells," he began to use his tongue to dip into the
exotic pudding that filled her pastry.

He pumped her vagina with his fingers, her juices flowing as he drank and
sucked her round, hard almond in a sensual frenzy.

"You taste like heaven."

Nora gasped and shuddered, as she climaxed in his mouth – dripping -- like ice
cream on a hot summer day.  He relished in it, the icing to his cake.

Once her convulsions subsided, her face became glazed over with a sultry
look, as she frantically unzipped Henley’s pants and freed his tortured, hard
member.

"Hot dog!" She giggled and teased him with her soft touch.  He raised his body
to her beautiful face, touching her cheeks lightly with his Oscar Myer Wiener.

Nora took his penis into her open, full mouth like a popsicle.  She sucked him
hard and ran her tongue along his needy shaft, until he was begging for mercy
and his hot, hearty soup came out like an open floodgate, filling her mouth as
it dribbled everywhere else too.  They kissed passionately, tasting each
other’s delights as though it had been catered just for them.

Click!

They could see the lights under the doorway.

"Hello?" a deep, older voice asked.  "Anybody in there?"

Henley put his hand over Nora's mouth.  She could feel her heart beating
against her chest as she tried not to breathe.

"Hello?  Hello?"

After a minute, they could hear the intruder's footsteps moving away.  Close
call.

They began to giggle.  Their moment was gone.  Like adolescents they hastily
dressed, sneaked out, back to the safety of their grocery carts.

Minutes later, Henley helped Nora put her groceries into the trunk of her car.
The wind was cool that night, blowing a breeze through her long, brown hair.
The back of her dress had become stiff where the milk had dried.

"Henley?"  Nora said.

"Yes?"

"What happened in there, I just don't know if it was right.  I got carried
away and . . . "All's well that ends well."

He looked deep into her eyes.  "Nora, I thought you wanted it."

"Yes, I mean, no.

"What?  You can't say it wasn't good."

"I'm not saying it wasn't good, I am just saying . . . Hell, I just met you!
You're a complete stranger.  I need time to get to know you. I like you, and I
want to do this right."

"It's okay.  I guess I got carried away too," Henley replied.

"Can we start over?"

"Sure," Henley said.  "Sure.  You are absolutely right.  I like you too and I
want this to be more than just . . ."

"Sex?" Nora filled in the blank.

"Yeah, but you are sexy, you know.  Little Miss Cantaloupes."

"Okay, Henley, enough. Ask me to dinner.  No more stock room sex, at least
not tonight."

"No stock room sex.  I promise.  It's a deal."

He began to rummage through her shopping bag.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

Henley pulled out her new carton of chocolate milk and let it fall to the
ground.  Chocolate splattered all over his clean khaki pants.

"We are starting from the beginning, Miss."

"No use crying," Nora said, standing in the puddle.

"No use crying," he repeated.

"Hi, I'm Nora."  She reached out her hand.

"Hi, I'm Henley."  He lightly kissed it.

"Nice to meet you," Nora said.  “Very nice to meet you."

They looked into each other's eyes and smiled. Then, Nora and Henley burst
out laughing.

"That was a good one, Honey," Nora giggled.  "The stock room?  Did you really
work in the stock room?"

Henley laughed.  "Why yes, I did, Honey!  I thought it was rather exciting!
"But you didn't have to go and spill the milk!"

"Sweetheart, you didn't have to spill it AGAIN!"  Nora chimed as she got into
the passenger's side of their car.

Henley took the keys and got into the driver's side.

They drove off into the moonlight, covered in chocolate milk, holding hands,
and smiling.   As their car pulled away from the parking lot, they could an
announcement on the supermarket's intercom system.

"Clean up on Aisle Two."








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