#1 MILF - The Grocery Boy's Big Tip

Central's #1 MILF - Brayden's Big Tip

Mrs. Burton's adventures begin with Central's No. 1 MILF, continue in the Fun Flock Big Cock Contest, then move into the Teenage Blackmail Contract. This chapter takes place in December, shortly before fulfilling her monthly contractual obligation.

This is a free-standing interlude and is outside the auspices of the contract that binds her and Matt. It will make a lot more sense if you have read her adventures from the beginning, and I hope you will do so if you haven't previously. But it isn't essential for your enjoyment of this story.

These stories are meant to be humorous, oversexed, comic book-style erotic entertainment. All characters depicted are over the age of eighteen. Any similarities to real people are purely intentional.

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Christmas cards had never been her thing. Gift baskets and tips for the right people were another matter, and Nicci Burton had spent the first few weeks of December making sure all the 'little people' who had made a difference in her year were cared for.

Teachers, daycare providers, the mailwoman, landscapers, pool people, the UPS driver, housecleaner, dog sitters, the spa guy, a few key Fun Flockers, and a handful of others she was blanking on at the moment had all factored into her holiday-giving plans.

Everyone she could think of had gotten a basket, a gift card, or some other thoughtful thank you. Everyone, that is, except the devoted grocery boy her friends, Brandi and Kaely, reminded her about daily.

Along with most males in town, Brayden had been an admirer of Mrs. Burton for a long time. He was a shy, nondescript nineteen-year-old who'd been a worker at the grocery store where Nicci did her weekly food shopping. Far beyond that, he'd been a very lucky, unknowing, surprise entrant in last summer's wildly off-the-rails 'big cock' contest the Fun Flock had held at Nicci's backyard pool.

Since then, her girlfriends had been borderline obsessed with whether the bland, polite kid had the peculiar enough body dimensions needed to blow himself. Kaely eventually tagged along on a special girls' trip to the grocery store and used Brayden's desire for Nicci to lure the kid into the back of her girlfriend's Suburban to make him attempt it.

They'd all been raucously entertained at the poor kid's expense when he succeeded admirably.

Nicci had no active desire to engage with Brayden again sexually, despite her fondness for the kid's giant schlong and how amusing it was that he actually could suck it himself. As matters stood, she had more than enough on her plate trying to dig out of the hole she'd already dug for herself with her prior behavior. She'd signed a contract that guaranteed that.

But her friends had needled her relentlessly and made her feel like she owed the obsequious boy something for all his slavish work and puppy dog devotion.

With a hand on her shapely hip, in the finished basement of her lavish home, she surveyed the array of fancy gift baskets she'd made and considered her options for the grocery boy. A basket with candles and chocolate wouldn't work for him. No teenage boy wanted something like that, especially not from her, and it definitely wasn't the kind of 'big tip' her friends had in mind, either.

Surrounded by her home's comforts and lavish holiday decorations, however, Nicci struggled to get into a frame of mind that would allow her to come up with something appropriate and reasonable that didn 't require her to do yet another sexual act with yet another guy that wasn't her beloved husband.

She was particularly determined not to fuck the kid despite her bawdy girlfriends undoubtedly rooting for that outcome, and even getting roped into another blowjob was red-lined in her mind. She wasn't sure why any of that was even up for conscious consideration, and that disappointed her, but she had her squad to thank for never letting the shit go.

Nic checked her phone and saw it was already time to jump back on a work Zoom, and as she hustled upstairs to her office and opened her laptop, she settled on a plan.

She would give the kid a card with a crisp twenty-dollar bill, and she would play the rest by ear. Everyone liked cash, and if she was really feeling generous, she decided she might...might...allow him to quickly jerk himself off after he'd gotten her groceries loaded in the back of the truck - just to appease her relentless girlfriends.

Then, like magic, the Zoom window popped onto her screen, and a bunch of boxes appeared with her prospective customers' faces. She hoped to close a lucrative software deal with a significant foreign bank she'd been chasing before the year's end.

"And as long as I don't see his dick," she said with a shrug, "I'll be fine."

Then she pressed 'unmute,' broke straight into her most professional sales voice, and hit those stuffy bigshots with her best pitch.

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On the last grocery shopping trip she had planned on the last Sunday before Christmas, Nicci snagged a blank holiday card from her very neat pile on her very neat desk, slipped a fresh Andrew Jackson into it, and wrote a short message.

'To the best little helper in town! Merry Xmas! - Mrs. B'

She drew a little heart above her name and licked the envelope to seal it. She wrote Brayden's name on the outside and put the card in her purse.

Nic hopped into her Suburban wearing a pair of grey Forever 21 yoga pants that cost one dollar and fifty cents off the rack. They were among her favorites because they felt like she was wearing next to nothing. Not only did they feel that way, but they also looked that way. The leggings were so thin and form-fitting that it appeared Nicci was wearing heathered grey body paint whenever she wore them.

Of course, she wasn't wearing underwear. She rarely did. And the cotton fabric of the cheap tights was like a second skin, showing every shapely curve of her toned legs and hindquarters and crawling into every crack and crevice of her spectacular body.

The leggings didn't just show her sexy ass. They showed two distinct, round cheeks that moved independently of one another as if she were naked. And the front of her pants displayed a snug, vivid camel toe.

They weren't so much see-through as they were non-existent. She was technically clothed and fully covered but in a highly provocative, though unintentional, way.

She didn't care, either. She liked those fucking pants. She liked them and fuck the world if anyone had a problem with them or anything else she or any other woman, for that matter, felt like wearing. The wife and mom of three dressed how she felt like dressing.

Nic wore the leggings often and knew they tended to draw attention, but they were her favorites, and they were comfortable as hell. She didn't feel like wearing jeans, and she was sick to death of baggy sweatpants all the time. Today, she felt like looking a little more put together.

The rest of her outfit was sporty, festive, and much less attention-grabbing than her unintentionally provocative lower half. She wore a pair of chunky, black Ugg boots and a red Nike quarter-zip running top with a Burberry down vest with their classic tartan check over it.

Her blonde hair cascaded out the back of a baseball cap with screen-printed mistletoe sprigs all over it. She had ordered it from Etsy and loved its fun holiday vibe.

Glancing at herself in the visor mirror, she was pleased with her appearance. She'd actually done some light makeup that morning for a change, which was rare enough in the remote-work era and even more exceptional for a grocery shopping trip. She applied a final round of lipstick. Blowing herself a kiss, she was pleased to see how full her lips looked. Her pretty face was particularly radiant, and she looked much younger than her late thirty-something years.

She slammed the visor shut, backed out of her long driveway, and drove to the grocery store with an amused smirk. Her friends were right. This was going to be a hoot!

By the time she had pushed a cart around the crowded grocery store for ten minutes, she had changed her mind. She was already annoyed and edgy. Her cart was half full, everything seemed like it had gone up in price five times, and she'd attracted even more than her usual following of stalker dads.

The dads always tried to act like they weren't following her through the store and ogling her, but it was always so clear that's exactly what they were doing. Men were so dumb and obvious. Women were so much better at not getting noticed when checking out the opposite sex.

That point was particularly evident at one point near the protein bars when she stopped walking to check an incoming message on her phone. The guy behind her stopped his cart simultaneously, nearly bumping into her ass with it, and did nothing other than stand and stare. He didn't check his own phone, didn't act like he was looking for a product on the shelves, nothing.

"Dude," Nicci turned and snapped at the paunchy fifty-something fellow, "can you at least pretend you're actually shopping? Where's your wife? Does she even know you're doing this shit?"

Surprised at being called out so directly, the man flushed and reversed his cart. He moved away quickly and ran into his wife toward the end of the aisle. The woman glanced in Nicci's direction and gave her husband a demonstrative earful while he raised his arms in a show of innocence. Nicci shook her head at the bickering couple before turning and continuing to shop.

To Nicolle's building frustration, he wasn't the only ogler to lose his sense of time or space while gazing at her swaying hips and bouncing cheeks in those tissue-thin leggings she wore. She had essentially given up any other direct confrontations. She resigned herself to walking down the aisles like the Pied Piper when her shopping was interrupted by a call from a girlfriend.

"Hey, Brandi, what's up?"

"Yeah, I'm actually at the supermarket right now, and it's even crazier than usual. I need to start using that Peapod service or whatever they call it -- the shop-from-home thing. I honestly don't know why I leave the fucking house. If it's not some creepy leering grandpa or some married coach horndog, it's some other drooling mouth breather stalking me while I shop."

She was leaning over her cart while she talked, weight on one leg, her rear end jutting out like sculpted marble globes, and there just so happened to be a basketball coach with his son and a senior citizen lurking a few feet behind her - all with their own carts -- while she stopped to take her girlfriend's call.

"Oh, I know! And then," she continued blathering, "if I think I somehow get a break, a woman who knows me from the Fun Flock will pop up out of nowhere and 'can't believe they got a chance to meet me in person' or some shit."

The men were standing behind her, unmoving, contentedly staring at her ass, waiting for her to start walking again, while she talked.

"I'm tired of this. I'm serious, Brandi. I'm totally winding this shit down."

"Obviously, I still have to buy groceries somewhere. I'm just going to do it online from now on."

"No, I saw him when I came in, but I haven't given him his card yet."

Nic absent-mindedly strolled forward about ten feet, pushing her cart slowly while listening to her friend chatter. Her entourage followed.

"Yes, Brandi, just a card with some cash in it. That's my plan. If you have a fucking problem with it, maybe you should have done something about it yourself."

"I might let him jerk off out by the Suburban later because I know you guys want me to throw him a bone, but I'm so not in the mood, so I haven't decided."

"Don't push, or so help me, I'm all done with this shit right now."

"Yes, of course, I remember how big his dick is," she said as an older woman passed by her cart, overheard, and gave her an amused look at the conversation she was having. "I'm just trying to avoid all that drama because you know what always happens."

Nicci waved and smiled pleasantly at the woman, who chuckled and winked at the young MILF and pointed back at the crowd behind her. She tried helping her sister-in-arms by shooing away the three guys with their carts, but none of them paid any attention. They were too focused on Nicci's ass.

Nicci nodded in appreciation, rolling her eyes at the older woman to let her know she was aware of the loitering guys and ignoring them, so she needn't worry.

"No! It's worse than usual today for some reason. That's my point! I'm telling you, I am covered from head to fucking toe. Boots, hat, layers, nice brands, you name it. I put on a little makeup, but that's it. My hands and face are the only things showing!"

"Yes, I'm wearing leggings."

"How is that the problem? Literally half the women here are wearing leggings!'"

"I don't want to hear it! You will be shocked to hear this, but I guarantee you every single one of them has legs and a butt. Some of them might even work out occasionally, too."

"Brandi, listen to me. You know I practically live in them, but I don't always want to wear baggy sweatpants."

"Can't I look nice when I feel like it?"

"What does it matter where they are from?"

"Honestly, so what if they are from Forever 21? I like them."

"I get it," Nic continued on the phone with Brandi, "but I shouldn't have to feel like I have to wear a disguise whenever I leave the fucking house. Do you know what I'm saying? No woman should. I believe that. I know you do, too, so stop slut-shaming everyone."

She shifted her weight to her other leg, leaning forward on her elbows, and her luscious ass cheeks shifted dramatically. She heard someone gasp behind her and shook her head in silent frustration.

"Right, well, this is my soapbox, and I'm not getting off it anytime soon."

"All right now, let me go. I still have a ton of shopping to get done, and who knows what the fuck is going on behind me at this point."

"Yes, I promise to call you later and tell you what happened. With the mood I'm in, I wouldn't get your fucking hopes up. I just want to get out of here."

"Yes, babe, cheers to you, too. You're already drinking? I wish I could join you."

"See you and Pete for the New Year's party, right?"

"Great, yes. I'd love for you to bring an appetizer. I'm hanging up now. Ciao."

The Number One MILF pressed her phone's screen to end the call and straightened up to start pushing her cart through the store again.

Glancing briefly behind her, she saw something like five carts were now eagerly following her, and she felt like she wanted to scream.

Nicci turned at the back of the store and headed toward the tail end of the produce section, where she saw Brayden near an alcove and a short hallway with some clearance bakery items. He waved at her and ushered her toward him.

She was surprised at how relieved she was to see his familiar, boyish face.

"Jesus Christ," she complained as she approached him, trailing the group of poorly concealed oglers, "what is with all these apes today? It's worse than ever. I can't even fucking leave my house anymore!"

The boy parted a set of heavy, clouded plastic strips at the end of the short hallway and led Mrs. Burton into a vast, grimy room that was relatively poorly lit compared to the main body of the store. It was filled with skids loaded with goods stacked on each other and box after box of produce of all kinds.

It starkly contrasted with the crowded, bustling front of the store because once they'd passed through the dirty plastic curtains, they seemed suddenly quite alone. It was pretty chilly back there, but besides her skimpy leggings, she was dressed for the season. Fans of an HVAC unit or some kind of refrigeration system droned loudly in the background.

"I'm actually not horribly disappointed to see you, Brayden. I'll take the friendly face."

"Same, Mrs. Burton. But I'm always excited to see you!"

Brayden had long been smitten with the well-known local mom, but he had become particularly enthralled after she and her friends had unexpectedly been judges of that random internet big-cock contest he had entered on a lark. He'd assumed it was fake and found it to be delightfully opposite.

So what if he hadn't 'won?' He'd gotten the best blowjob of his life out of it - from Mrs. Burton!

He eyed her up and down, unable to help himself. He always imagined her in a skimpy bikini, but that's probably because the image had been burned into his memory from the one spectacular time he had seen her wearing one by her backyard pool. It had never been the reality of grocery shopping, even in the shorts and t-shirts she typically wore in the summer, so he had learned to adjust.

He was smitten with the pretty woman. His only disappointment was her running top. She had zipped it up so high that her cleavage wasn't showing, and the vest covered her perpetually hard nipples that were always so fun to see.

Though you could still see that Mrs. Burton had a great rack, and that her upper curves were nearly as jaw-dropping as her lower curves, he particularly loved seeing more of her big tits. Even wearing a baseball cap and winter clothes that showed almost none of her skin, she looked radiant, sexy, and...fertile. He wondered if that was why she had three kids.

"I'm sorry you have to deal with all that, Mrs. Burton," Brayden said, his voice sounding higher than he wanted. He stood near her in the cavernous space where they stored, cleaned, and sorted all fruits and vegetables for sale. He could smell her expensive perfume. There was nobody else there because produce prep was long over.

"Don't worry about those guys," he said, cursing himself for still sounding so high-pitched. "You can hide out as long as you want. Nobody ever comes back here unless they have to."

"What a relief," she muttered sarcastically. "It's so nice and... utterly disgusting back here."

Nicci looked at the slight grocery boy, then briefly all around the dark, open space before glancing back through the curtains to the men with their carts. They were all still out there in the brightly lit store, wondering where she went. It all felt gross and surreal.

"It sucks that you have to deal with them," Brayden said, not registering that, in most ways, he was just another one of those guys. "You should be able to go wherever you want - dress any way you want - and not have to worry."

Nicci brightened in surprise at his empathy. She turned to him.

"Thank you! I was literally just saying that to my girlfriend. Like, why should a woman have to do anything other than what she feels like doing?"

"Exactly!"

"That attitude is so refreshing from a guy." Nic smiled in spite of herself. "How did you become so empathetic?"

"Umm," Brayden responded, uncertainly.

"Well, you will make some woman very happy someday with that approach, young man." Nicci reached into her purse for more cash. She suddenly felt like the twenty-dollar tip inside Brayden's card was a bit light.

"That, along with the other big thing you bring to the table," she giggled, "will go a very long way."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, come on, Brayden," Nicci finished slipping an extra twenty into the card and smiled at the kid. "We both know about your special gift, don't we?"

She held the card out to him with a grin, and he took it from her gratefully.

"This gift?" he asked.

"No, not that gift. That's just a little something to say thank you. Your gift."

"My gift, Mrs. Burton?"

Brayden could see he was frustrating the beautiful mom, but he really didn't get it.

"Your gift, Brayden. Your special gift is the major meat you're packing in your pants, okay? Do you need me to spell it out? Jesus!"