The Thin Line Between Powertools...

His sleeves are rolled up almost to his elbows; I feel those powerful forearms moving me, manipulating me on his leg. Deliriums as his sweaty hands move up my thighs, raising my skirt. I look at his beautiful face, sweated black hair clinging to delicate features. I lean forward and rest my tongue on that nipple before I tear open the rest of his shirt just to keep myself from screaming. I taste the salty taste of sweat; the soft flesh of his outer nipple and the hard ridged tip. I reach down between his legs and find the rest of his hardness. Seems like he is going to tear through his fly.

I tear the button and zipper open, his cock shifting under my moving hands. His hands touch my panties for the first time. I see the first person standing at the end of the isle looking at us. A man I think it is. An older man in blue jeans with a more than healthy beer gut. A woman stands next to him as I reach into Simon's briefs and wrap my hand around that cock. Immense, hard and ridged with a thousand tiny veins and ridges. I think of all of those ridges and the way they would stream along my softest flesh, as he would penetrate me for the first time. Hard and yet very soft to the touch, like his hands. This wonderful head I hold in my hand.

I lap the sweat off of his nipple knowing that the very presence of this head penetrating me would make me cum before he pushed in with the full length. I squeeze it fast. I stop licking and look up at his face; my chin rubbing into his saliva coated nipple. I try to focus my eyes on Simon. I run my fingers through his hair. I try and continue to look at this beautiful face as I flex my tongue back onto his chest. My hand moving slowly in the tight space of his briefs.

His hair; sweat is dripping off of his hair and down onto my face. Splattering on my cheeks and nose like hot raindrops. It drips into my eyes and makes them burn. It drips onto my tongue and makes me hungry. I pull my hand out of his pants and grab a handful of that sweaty hair. I pull myself upward, dragging my tongue up his body like a snail moving up his chest. I listen to his heart racing and his lungs pump excited air. I drag my tongue and face along his neck and trace the path of his jugular vein as it bulges outward. With subtle but sweet pain I scratch my tongue against the stubbled hair of his chin.

My god every bit of him tastes better than the last. I run my tongue across his lips as his hands attempt to peel back my panties. I shudder as his hand merely jerks. I'm so wet everywhere they are clinging to my body. He does not hesitate. I cry out a loud moan as he yanks them apart at the crotch. I feel a rush of air hitting moist flesh and moist flesh hitting air as he tears off the waist band on one side for good measure and casts the rest of what had been my panties over my leg and out of the way. "You owe me some panties..." I say and lick his cheek. "I'll never be able to use them..."Oh God...my God, is that your...your finger...."

"What about a cordless drill?"

"A cordless drill?" she said to him blankly. She tried to remember. Her eyes perked up as she became refocused like a moment of clarity in a drug binge. "I don't think he has a cordless drill. Are those good?"

"Oh yeah!" Simon said excitedly. "They are great! No damned extension cords to worry about. You just keep it plugged in when you are not using it " He hesitated a moment and continued. "I'm sorry pardon my language but I thought if you could say fuck I could say damned?" He threw her a playful little look. She smiled back, rather obviously blushing.

"Well that seems only fair?" "I swear if he keeps looking at me my legs are going to start to drip."

"Yes it does," he said and continued to smile at her for a moment. Then his face flushed a bit. He quickly set down the box and shot to the opposite side of the isle. He grabbed another box and held it up.

"Is that a cordless drill?"

"Yes it is," he said, reading the box for a moment and then refocusing his eyes on Stacey.

"Oh God..."

"Yes it is." He says to me.

"Oh God I'm so wet I can barely feel it. Oh...oh.... Please fuck me, I'm begging. Simon, fuck me before I cum. I want your cock to make me cum. Please... please..." I shut my eyes as his hands grab my hips lifting me and then setting me back down. Oh the floor feels so cool and good. Where, where did my panties go? I throw my head back and open my eyes. I see an almost comical upside down view of the isle.

The power tools on the shelves both cordless and cord-ful, the tiled ceiling, and the speakers in the ceiling; "Reo fucking Speedwagon" playing some lame assed ballad. There are people at the other end of the isle. I can't make them out. My eyes watering and blurring my view. Two, no three, no four. A man, a woman, a no that one is a man. No a woman. My legs coming apart. A presence, a large warm presence. I rest my legs on his hips and guide him forwards A ohhhhh...God. My god is he sure this is a cock. Mmm yes.... More, good Christ this has to be at least ten inches. Ten inches if an inch, all inside of me. More? Yes, here Simon I'll spread my legs farther apart oh Christ wept yes this cock filling me, pushing too deep too deep no deeper."

"You like?" Simon is over me, his body flexing and moving back and forth on top of me.

"Mmmm yes I like," I say. My hands in his hair I arch my back and yes a bit deeper. Trying to look at his beautiful face. "God you feel like a cannon inside of me. So hard, filling me up. I can feel every little ripple of your cock."

He smiles and grunts. He ignores my compliment and says: "They are all looking at you"

"Looking at me?"

"Yes"

"Looking at me," I reach down and pull up my sweater and bra. My nipples ridged as my tits stand straight up. The gangly looking college aged stock boy who was ogling me as I walked into the store is here. I can barely see him through my blurry eyes. His pants are around his ankles and his fist around his cock.

"And you like it don't you?" he begins to rock me a bit harder. "Mmmmhhhmm yes Simon I like it," I say as I watch the stocker jerking his cock around. I feel Simon's cock rush into me again and I wonder which of us the stocker is looking at more. I wrap my legs around him and hold him inside, as I play with my own nipples, yanking and twisting them hard between my fingernails. He tries to pull back out; I pull him deeper again. "Come on Simon, fuck me like you mean it. Come on...Ahhh" He slams hard into me. His balls bouncing across my ass. "Oh Simon I'm going to cum..." A shock of fear as I can't see. I taste wool and feel it scratch against my face as he yanks my sweater over my head. Scratching my arms. My arms I can't move my arms. I think he is twisting the sweater tight, securing my arms and hands. Then those hands, his hands, locking with my hands. Those large hands, taking me, gripping me, holding me. My hands tight upon the cold hard floor as I become light headed almost to the point of fainting. Can't seem to get enough breath. He holds me tighter as he moves faster in and out of me. I feel his absence and then his presence as he tears in and out of me. Which is more painful.

His face so beautiful I try to cry out something but I cannot breath to speak. He takes me faster and harder. Can't breath, scaring me. Feel like I am suffocating, like I'm trapped under this beauty. Trapped by the glare of the people who have stepped up from all around, some so close I can smell their shoes. Can't breath. My tearing eyes, I can't see any of the people clearly but I can feel each of them fucking me with their eyes as hard as Simon is grunting and clenching his teeth like an animal as he takes me. "Yes," is all I can manage as I melt away beneath him. "Do you like this?" he says to me.

"yes"

"Do you like this?" he said.

"yes," she gasped.

"What?"

She looked over at him. He was standing next to her again holding what would appear to be a cordless drill in his hands. He smiled as she snapped back. "I said: 'do you like this?'"

"Oh I am so sorry. Sure," she looked at the strange machine in his hands. After only a few seconds she ignored the drill and began to think of those hands again, holding her down on the very floor where she now stood. She tried to shake the feeling off. "It's a cordless drill?"

"Yes," he said with a smile.

"Is it a... a good one?" she said. "I don't want to buy any piece of shit that is going to break next week?" She noticed the gangly looking stock boy at the other end of the isle, helping a woman select a miniature sander from the various models available. He looked back over at Stacey. His eyes hit her face and then instantly drop to her chest even as he is speaking to the lady. Stacey glared at him quickly. "Asshole," she thought her herself as she reconnected with her eyes and shot him a knowing glare that penetrated him, knocking into him: "I know you're looking at my tits you little shit. Why don't you help that nice lady and then fuck off." The look said to him. The stocker flushed in the face and quickly looked back down at the sander in his hand, understanding fully the look.

"Yes it is a ... good one?" Simon said and craned his neck around. All he saw was the tall gangly stock boy talking to the nice lady about the sander. He looked back at Stacey. "Something wrong?"

"What? Oh no. Nothing at all..." she couldn't help but continue to glare at the stocker as she said it. Then she looked back over at Simon. "You say it is a good one?"

He smiled subtly at her. "Is he bothering you?"

Stacey felt a little shock roll through her body. "Why...no. I've never even met him. What would give you that idea?"

He continued his knowing smile as he whispered under the sounds of Reo Speedwagon. "I'm surprised that look you just gave him didn't knock him into the next isle."

Stacey looked up at Simon. "That obvious?" she said in a curious but droning tone.

"No," he said. "Just call it a knack for knowing what a person is thinking."

Stacey felt her eyes blast open like saucers as her entire body went numb with dumbfounded shock. She somehow managed to look back up at him. "Really?" "Now you sound like such as asshole again..."

"Well sometimes," he said. "Depends on the person really."

"really?" she said.

"really," he returned.

And there they stood for just an instant.

"So," she said in a slightly too loud tone of voice. "We got the drill!"

"Yes," Simon said back, triumphantly raising the box in the air before extending it to her. She sighed openly and obviously as she took it from him and held it in her arms preciously. "Thank you so much Simon."

Simon smiled warmly as he watched how she held it. "You must really love him to put yourself through this."

Stacey blushed and suddenly felt a dark, shifting feeling begin to go through her. There was something strange to her now about Simon bringing up her husband. "Well, yes I do," she said.

"What is this lucky man's name?"

"Tomas," she said. "And your name is heartless bitch." She recognized the dark feeling. Guilt, the worst kind of guilt; it was the type of guilt you felt for something that was not even real. The type of guilt someone of German decent feels when they see "Schindler's List"- even if their grandfather was a GI in World War II. The kind of guilt the rich feel when they see the homeless eating out of a Dumpster. The kind of guilt Stacey felt for that fleeting moment in the hardware store and that she would for every time in her life thereafter whenever she heard Reo Speedwagon take it on the run baby. Imaginary guilt for things that only seemed real for a moment, like a shadow. And like a shadow turned out to be only the distorted image of something harmless.

The shadow came, reared its ugliness, and went as fast as it had come. The flushed feeling of shock and guilt distorted again. "Come on, you're never going to see him again... flirt a little more...have something to remember..."

With her purse in one hand and a cordless power drill in the other, Stacey crossed her arms under her breasts, subtly pushing them up a bit; a playful smile crossing her lips. "What just what makes him so lucky?"

Simon was fast with his response. "A beautiful wife who buys him power tools. Is that not the American dream?"

Both of them broke out in a slight gale of laughter. Stacey saw a man at the opposite end of the isle look up from the circular saw he was examining and gave them an odd look. She noted the socket set in his hands and blushed again. As they quieted down, she noticed that Simon had suddenly become a bit more olive himself. "Well Simon, it has been interesting but I have to get going."

"Yes," he said with a simple nod of acceptance. "As do I."

She set down her purse and the drill and extended out her hand. "It has been a pleasure meeting you. And thank you again."

He took her hand and shook it with the same gentleness as he had previously. She looked again one last time into those dark, endless eyes. "Oh lets not even go there again..." all parts of her exhausted imagination agreed. "No. Thank you for allowing me to assist you Stacey. You have put some fun into my day."

"As have you," she said still shaking his hand. She felt him make the slight polite pulling motion to end the handshake. As instinctively as anything else, she began to let his hand go as well.

"...wait..." something deep inside of her cried out suddenly.

With a subtle nimbleness she reclenched her fingers around his and a slight jolt ran through her. A little jolt that told her that her imagination was not quite exhausted yet.

"...don't do it Stace... Do not do this...do not say it... do not......ahhh fuck it say it..."

"Tell me Simon," she said still holding her hand. "Is this how men feel shopping for lingerie?"

For the first time in the midst of their short yet surprisingly insightful and profound relationship she felt the surprise and shock rise up in him. She felt it penetrating his body through his hand. She saw it as his eyes brightened with sudden surprise. She felt it begin to transcend warmly into herself as he looked at her and said simply, perfectly: "Not all men."

"oh my..." she said to herself as the warm feeling passed between them. She had no idea how long they stood there in the power tool isle, slightly gripping each other by the fingers like statues dancing a minuet. It was something unique, something she had not counted on or predicted. Some feeling, thought emotion moved through her, rocked through her, toward through her with a power like nothing else, breaking her down fundamentally and rebuilding her instantly but differently. She was identical except now she possessed this quality; this quality that at the same time she absolutely knew was doing the exact same thing through him. possessing him, possessing her. Warmth, sensation, a vividness of shear intensity. Something beyond emotion, beyond sex. It could not be described any easier than it could be divided by any line or rule or law be it man's or natures.

And it was real.

"I have to go," he finally said, sounding as out of breath as if he had just ran a marathon. She saw sweat dripping into his eyes.

"Me too," she released his hand and they both dropped to their perspective sides.

She knelt. She picked up her drill and her purse. She stood. She walked or more accurately marched away as he walked in the opposite direction. "walk away...just fucking walk away... no more bullshit just move...keep moving one foot in front... going...going to Erotica and A'more' and buying that lingerie, have to get a teddy for tonight for Tomas... and then going to the store and buying...no wait oh shit...oh shit why... why did you do that. walk walk walk... one step at a time... why did you just think about lingerie shopping you stupid...walk...keep walking... no...no...you can't stop...yes lingerie shopping what a good idea...I am going to take him lingerie shopping...he is going to take me lingerie shopping now...we are going to take us lingerie shopping...have to go anyway have to get new panties. No! No not new panties! No a new teddy....yes...no no no...he has good taste though... ...yes... don't stop...keep walking keep walking...you are stopping... Stace, why are you stopping...don't stop don't stop..." She stopped.

She turned.

"Simon," she said.

He stopped at the opposite end of the isle, an instant before he would have turned out of sight. He turned around. "Yes Stacey," he said quite clearly.

She said to him even more clearly. As clearly as she had ever said anything: "What do you say we test that theory?"