Fingers

It was snowing hard outside when you walked into my shop. The radio on a shelf behind me issued a report that a blizzard was moving into town, and that people should not travel unless absolutely necessary.

You took off your toque and shook snow crystals out of your hair in a wet spray of water and rainbow ice. I watched as you undid your coat, checked out the shelves of porn on one side, and toys on the other. You raised an eyebrow, and licked your lips.

Then you noticed me. I smiled and nodded slightly, and looked down at the book I was reading so that you would feel comfortable enough to stay, and look for whatever it was that had brought you into the store.

I reached over to a bag of M&M's that I was snacking on. I took a couple and popped them into my mouth, and noticed that a blue M&M had left some dye on my finger. I sucked on it to clean it—and heard a sharp intake of breath.

I looked up to see why you had gasped, but you were busy examining some toys in a corner . . . I wondered if it had just been my imagination, or if you had liked seeing my finger between my lips, sucking and licking to clean off the blue colour . . . maybe it was just my imagination.

I decided to test you. I reached below the cash counter and grabbed the brown paper bag that had my lunch in it. I opened the bag, and pulled out an orange. I made sure that the noise of the bag was loud, crunchy and raspy, and then put it away.

I took the orange in my hands, and began rolling it in circles to loosen the skin from its clinging embrace with the interior meat. I kept an eye on you in my periphery, and thought that you might be watching me in the mirrors that lined the walls behind the video shelving units.

I slipped my thumbs into the flesh of the orange, and penetrated its surface. The movement of my thumbs continued inwards to spread open the thick skin of the orange, and suddenly its aroma exploded outwards; its juices oozed into my skin. The orangeness flooded my nostrils, and oozed into the space behind my brain with its pungent fragrance.

I knew that the aroma would infuse every air molecule in the shop, and watched you closely to see the moment my ethereal orange-drenched fingers reached your body to slip into you and tickle your senses.

I saw a shudder ripple across your shoulders, and knew that the smell was inside you. I took one of my thumbs out of the orange, dripping with its aromatic juices, and pushed it into my mouth.

I sucked the juices off my thumb noisily. Working it in and out of my mouth, my lips slurping the pulp off the surface—I saw your knees twitch slightly—and I knew that I had you.

I pulled a wedge off the orange, and put it to my full lips—and bit hard, sucking and slurping the spurting juices into my mouth. Some of the juices still slipped outside my lips to spill down the sides of my mouth, and chin.

I put my thumbs and fingers into the center of the orange, and spread it a part with a slick sucking sound. I pulled another wedge out, and tongued the bottom of it . . . feeling the textures of rough pulp and plump flesh along the surface of my tongue. I bit into the delicate flesh, and felt it pop with a juicy spurt.

I saw your eyes widen, you tongued your lips, and I smiled.

I bent down behind the counter to grab a box of Kleenex, and when I straightened you were standing right in front of me.

I blinked, and tried to say with a mouthful of orange, "Hu-i."

Some more orange juice dribbled down my lips and chin, and your eyes locked onto the rivulets . . .

And then, faster than I had ever seen a woman move, you grabbed my face with your hands, and my entire reality dissolved into sensations of mouth, tongue, and teeth, kissing and sucking on my chin, lips, and tongue . . .

Every nerve in my face orgasmed as your tongue and lips slid over them. Our faces were instantly slick with each others' saliva, and orange.

I slid my hands under your shoulders and lifted you up onto the counter. The moment your legs cleared the counter's threshold on the other side they locked around my waist. I dropped my hands from your shoulders to the bottom of your shirt and then up into its interior to burrow under the wire of your bra and grab each breast hard.

Your mouth moved from mine to my earlobe. The sensation of wet lips wrapped round my lobe, tongue and teeth assaulting its softness, had my cock so hard and ready to explode that my underwear had a wet spot from cum already leaking out in a steady stream.

On the other side of the thin layer of underwear and pants, the head of my cock strained to burst through all the clothing that lay between it and your cunt. I felt a wet heat of your own radiating against me, and it made me grind against you.

I lost all sense of anything other than my desire to fuck your mouth that was now locked onto the side of my neck and driving me mad.

I pushed back from you, and had my pants and underwear off. I spun you to face the other direction, and then laid you on your back on the counter. You looked up at me as I grabbed my unfinished orange and rubbed it all over the head of my cock, and along its shaft.

My hands gripped each side of the base of your head, fingers along the back of your neck, and my thumbs firmly along the top flesh of your throat.

I tilted your face back towards my pulsing red cock. I pushed into your mouth, and lingered for a moment as you began sucking--moaning into me. You sucked so hard that it hurt, and then I was pushing my cock further into your mouth, and slowly its length passed down into your throat.

As the head of my cock moved deeper I felt the motion of its passage in my thumbs where they lightly gripped your throat.

I pressed slightly harder to feel my cock moving in and out of your throat. I pulled back so you could take a breath, and then continued to fuck your throat.

I could feel my orgasm about to erupt, and I pulled out fast. I picked up a piece of orange and crushed it in my hand. I smeared it all over your face, and then rammed my orange-soaked fingers into your mouth.

You sucked furiously on my fingers to get every ounce of juice off them, and then I pulled them out, and replaced them with my hot hard cock.

I thrust into the orange-coolness of your mouth and my cock pumped hot streams of cum . . .

You reached back with your hands to grab my ass and pull my cock farther into your throat, which convulsed as it swallowed me whole—and then I was lost in the shuddering ecstasy of your embrace . . .

End Part I