The Soap Shop Ch. 04

I awoke in my car the next day around noon, at the side of a road with an empty gas tank, way out of town. I felt hung over like I had been drinking all night, and my neck was stiff and hurting from the position I had been sleeping in. My mouth was dry and my clothes felt damp and had that slightly musty smell you get when you spend the night outside. Overall, I felt pretty miserable.

My obsession with the bathroom lady seemed to have subsided, but I was still incredibly horny. More than once I thought about masturbating, just to get some relief. Traffic was light out here at this time, and nobody would pay attention to me, right? Still, I missed my toy, knowing that my fingers would never do the trick, at least not as good as a vibrator would.

Goddammit Yasmin, you really need to be prepared for situations like this! Emergency toys! That's the very next thing you'll have to buy, after you spend your money on that stupid...

The soap! I had forgot about the soap! Shit, I must've left it in the bathroom yesterday, when I ran after that woman. Shitshitshitshitshit. Shit! Fucking shit! Frantically I pulled my purse out from the back seat and began rummaging through my things.

And... there it was. Back in its little plastic bag, glimmering with its deceptively smooth and pretty shine. I must've taken it with me without noticing. Or maybe I went back there later? Everything was a blur, but I felt such a relief that my fingers instinctively wandered into my panties, just caressing gently across my slit, touching my clit ever so lightly, feeling my wetness as my body relaxed.

This was good, this was nice, this was... mmmmmhhh... I needed more! I needed to fuck, I needed someone, I needed something, I needed... I needed to figure out what was going on!

Was it the soap that drove me crazy? The last person to use it becomes the object of desire? Is that how it works? And boy, if that's how it works, then... that's incredibly strong. It was... it felt like... magic?

I leaned back, overcome with a sudden calm. If this was, what it was like - and I can't believe I'm even entertaining this, because I'm really not a superstitious person, but... if what I had experienced with my own body and mind was how it worked, then... then I could have anyone. Anyone I wanted!

Only: Who did I want?

Alright then. Let's take it easy. No plans for anything, no specific person in mind, let's just take it as it comes.

I felt kinda bad about involving strangers into my life - just because I prefer getting to know people - but maybe that wasn't such a bad thing? Maybe when things went wrong, we'd never have to see each other again. Speaking of going wrong: What could go wrong, anyway?

How long would it last? Were there any side effects? Would I still go after that woman if I ever saw her again, for example? And if a lot of yesterday was just a blur for me, how much would other people remember?

These sounded an awful lot like science-y questions, and I wasn't the science type, but... maybe I knew one. My chemistry teacher in school, Ms. - what was her name? God, I remember her sweaters, but I can't think of her name right now.

I'll think about that later. For now, I have two objectives: Finally getting me an emergency sex toy, and finding a better box for the soap. No, make that three objectives: Calling Triple-A to get some roadside assistance and get out of here.

Do I just call it "the soap"? It sounded kinda bland for an item that had turned my life upside down. What about "the magic bar"? "The shiny wonder"? Yasmin, you're not good at coming up with impressive names.

A little while later, the mechanic showed up and they didn't have to tow me after all. He just gave me a little bit of gas so I could get to the next pump and sent me on my way. I was so relieved it didn't have to turn into a whole thing, I kept thanking the guy, but he just shrugged and said it's no big deal. Man, when you've got some car trouble, you really appreciate quick and easy help.

Anyway, this is not a story about how Yasmin treats her car, so let's get to sex toy shopping! Sadly, Watercastle (pop. 24273) doesn't have its own sex shop, because... well, because it's rural Kansas, that's why. Or maybe that was lucky, because it required me to drive to "the city", which is variably either Wichita, Oklahoma City or Amarillo, depending on what you felt you could put up with.

In the end, I chose Wichita, because... well, Amarillo was just too dusty and depressing and Oklahoma City... Look, I'm from the south, and even I have some standards. I just can't do Oklahoma. I can't.

And this is how I found myself, several hours later and still on an empty stomach, in a store that was plainly named "Samantha's". It was a wonderland of colorful toys and lingerie and... some stuff I didn't even know what it was.

And yeah, look: I thought about just ordering something online, but when it comes to toys, I kinda like to feel them in my hand, y'know what I mean? Like, weight and feel is important. And size, of course. Everything looks bigger on a website, and in the end, you end up with... let's just say you wouldn't believe how small some of these things are.

Also, I wanted to meet some strangers, which seemed better to do away from home.

It was located slightly out of town, because no "respectable" neighbourhood would've wanted this sinful business anywhere close around, but that was fine by me. It meant privacy, at least to my mind it did.

Samantha's was located slightly out of town, because no "respectable" neighbourhood would've wanted this sinful business anywhere close around, but that was fine by me. It meant privacy, at least to my mind it did.

The only person in there was behind the counter and might be Samantha herself. She was chubby, in that unfortunate way where your boobs don't grow along with the rest of you, and had short, bleached-blonde hair. She greeted me nicely: "Welcome to Samantha's. What can I help you with today?"

"I'm looking for... something that I can carry in my purse," I said, rather timidly. It's one thing to just browse a shop's displays, but it's another thing to say out what you're looking for. It reveals something about you, something you may not want to reveal to yourself, even. I mean, right now, I'm basically saying: "I'm such a horny bitch, I need to fuck myself when I'm out because I can't wait until I'm back home." That's not a good look, Yasmin.

Samantha, on the other hand, acted like that was the most normal thing in the world. "Sure," she replied. "Let me find something to treat that horny pussy of yours real good." She didn't say that last part, but it felt like she did and I somehow grew very self-conscious. Was it hot in here? Was I blushing? This is silly, there was nobody else there except for us and yet it seemed like I was just found out to be a serial masturbator in front of the entire...

The entire what, Yasmin? The entire school? Just like they did when you kissed that girl, whusname? Kendra? The cute one that always teased you. You didn't even know what to do with your feelings then, but you knew it was wrong. And they certainly made sure you knew it was wrong.

The thought made me sad, and angry, and so I tried to brush it aside and focus on the present, which had Samantha dangling a few choice vibrators in front of me.

"The smallest ones we have are the egg vibes," she said in that casual, salesperson voice, holding up a package with a small egg inside that had a string attached to it and was shiny and golden. "They come in pink and silver, too," she continued. "

I nodded. I had seen those before, somewhere. Maybe in an article. I always wondered how strong a vibration something this small could deliver. I bet it wasn't...

"And then we have this little thing," Samantha interrupted my thoughts, holding up a package with a thin, shiny metal-looking stick in it that could be mistaken for some kind of elongated fancy chapstick. "You just twist the end there and it'll get to work," she said with a smile, handing it to me. It felt kinda flimsy and lightweight.

"Are these..." I started, not sure where the question would go. "Do they get very... strong?"

She made that gesture with her hands that usually translates to 'fair to middling' and then reached for another package, this one thicker and heavier than the other two. "This is as strong as they get," she said, her voice slightly lower and conspiratorial.

I turned the package in my hand. It felt heavier, which somehow made me trust it more. Inside, there was what looked like a miniature version of the famous Magic Wand, named Magic Mini.

"Uh. Do you believe in magic?" I asked, getting reminded of the other thing I was here for.

Samantha looked at me surprised.

"Oh, you know, I just thought of it, because it says Magic here," I babbled, trying to mask my nervousness.

"Oh," she said finally. "Yeah, sure. I mean, there's a spiritual realm, right? And I do a little bit with crystals and some witchy stuff."

"Cool!" I spurted out enthusiastically. "You ever heard of magic soap?"

"Soap?" she said incredulously. "I... no. I guess there could be such a thing. Kinda like a beauty spell, right?"

"Right, yeah," I nodded. "See, I got this soap from this kinda esoteric place and I think it has magical properties. Want me to show you?"

She eyed me a little sideways, not sure where this sudden turn in our conversation was coming from, but she was intrigued.

That's one of the things about the south, man. 'Round here, they come in two kinds: The religious kind, that's just all church, all the time. That's most people. And then, there's the other religious kind, the one that supplants it with some other whacko beliefs of witchcraft or astrology or they fall into some cult or whatever. People really really want to believe in magic, either the sanctioned way, or the other.

People like me... I don't know. There's just not very many. I can't do the church, because... well, it's kinda hard to get into it when they believe you're the literal spawn of Satan. And that other stuff, it just... it just always felt a little fake. Like they're trying to replace the church with a different kind of church, except that one's made of plastic and is branded 'chruch'.

That is, until two days ago. Was it two days ago? God, time was getting blurry. Anyway, until I got that soap.

I pulled it out of my handbag, with serious difficulties now having to juggle all these packages in my two hands. The chubby blonde looked at it curiously and then shrugged. "Aw hell, why not," she said, then looked around. "We better try this out in the bathroom."

And so I waddled after her, arms full of sex toys and soap, while she led me to the back of the store, which was decidely less well lit and bright, into a small bathroom that really only had a toilet and a tiny sink in it. I handed her the soap in its bag, this time making damn sure that she was the first one to use it, watching as she sniffed it, turned it, played with it and finally washed her hands.

"This is pretty nice," she said. "Like a soft cream on your skin."

I just nodded, taking the soap back from her and applying it to my own hands.

"So, what's it supposed to be good for?" she went on, turning her hands in front of her face.

I just leaned back and didn't say anything. I had no clue if it worked the way I thought it would work, but if it did, I would soon find out. How long does it take to come into effect, anyway?

It turns out: Not too long. Not too long at all. Samantha turned her head to look at me, and suddenly, her entire expression changed. She got this look of incredible horniness on her face, narrowing her eyes slightly, opening her mouth just a bit, keeping her gaze locked on me. "You're so incredibly beautiful," she finally whispered, with a gasp. "God, you're gorgeous. Can I please kiss you?"

"S-sure," I replied, fascinated by the sudden change. Goddammit, Yasmin. If this was a porn movie, then this would be the part when they would start playing that funky porn music. It's that kind of weird, slightly improbable turn and I...

I couldn't finish the thought when she suddenly pressed her lips hard on my own, pulling me tight against herself, her hands exploring me up and down the sides of my body.

She tasted like... muffins, or cookies. Something very sweet, sugary, with a hint of smokey tobacco. It didn't take her long to push up my top and pull down my bra, setting free my heavy, sweaty, slightly saggy breasts. I was suddenly very self-conscious about not having showered in two days, and instead driving for hours through the countryside, in clothes I hadn't changed since yesterday morning.

Except for my horniness, I wasn't prepared for any kind of sexual encounter. Well, to be fair, even a shower wouldn't have changed much. My makeup was a mess, my hair was an uninspired mid-length cut and the last time I shaved my cooch was during the Bush administration. No, the other Bush administration. But at least a shower wouldn't have made me feel like Samantha was sucking the sweat off my nipples.

Not that she did mind. She was loving my tits, with every fibre of her being. Licking them, pinching them, biting them gently, which made me feel more and more at ease, so when she finally dropped down in front of me, pulling my pants down with her, my hairy pussy fully exposed, I became finally aware of how horny I really was. The air that hit my crotch made all the wetness feel cold, and it was everywhere!

All over my thick black pubes, my labia, in the fold between my thigh and pussy, even as far back as going to my ass. I bit my lip to see if she was repulsed by any of it, but her head went straight between my legs, where she pulled my labia apart and ran her tongue right into my wet, musty hole. I gasped, sinking back against the bathroom wall, running my fingers through her short, blonde hair. With halting, gasping breaths I groaned: "C-can you do my ass, maybe?"

There, I said it. If anyone asks, horniness made me do it. I'm usually extremely self-conscious about my butt and would never... even with Lauren... But now I said it, and it was too late to back out. Well, maybe not too late, but I didn't want to back out. Because of horniness, you see.

And so I turned around and presented my backside to my enchanted lover. In that moment, I was glad I didn't have to look her in the eyes when she was faced with my butt crack, and I was just hoping that the soap was strong enough for even my saggy old ass.

Whatever I was worried about quickly disappeared, though, when she immediately cupped my butt cheeks with both hands, pulling them apart and ran her warm, wet, writhing tongue slowly across my anus. It made me shudder.

I breathed heavily, leaning my face against the tiles of the bathroom wall and let her go to work at my most sensitive, most erogenous zone.

My pussy - you know, my pussy can take a beating. And it has. It takes quite a bit for me to get going there at the front, especially when someone just uses their fingers and tongue. But my ass - that's a whole 'nother story. The story of my ass is written in pussy juice.

And the pussy juice was flowing. As soon as she started probing my puckered little dark star with her finger, I couldn't help but run my hand across my pussy, in broad strokes, up and down, not too fast, but with pressure. It had become so incredibly slick that I hardly felt any resistance.

Samantha noticed this as well, and soon purred from behind me: "I think we need to lube you up a little down here." Then she slipped out of the bathroom and I heard her rummaging through the store.

I caught my breath, thankful for the reprieve, because I really needed to pee. I hadn't gone all day, and it was really building up, and anyway... I don't know what it is with me, but when I get really horny, I need to pee. I've always been able to hold it in, but... it kinda distracts from the main act, you know?

But before I could get to do my business, Samantha had returned, holding a pretty large tube of lube in one hand, and a package that was already half ripped open in the other.

"Look what I've got," she chirped eagerly, pulling out a good-sized black strapon dildo. She climbed into it with ease, fastening it skillfully around her waist, over her jeans. You could tell she was experienced with it, and it looked so hot on her.

Like, she was still fully clothed, in her yellow-and-white striped polo shirt and her tight denim pants, with straps and buckles across her thighs and hips and this thick black cock just sticking out of her crotch. I don't think I've ever seen anything so hot in my entire life.

"Are you... are you going to fuck me with that?" I asked, because Yasmin always asks the complicated questions.

"Straight up your dirty asshole," she said with a grin and not a hint of shame, squirting lube into her hand and rubbing it on the rubber dildo. Then, she stepped behind me again and I felt the cold lube drip on my backside and run in between my cheeks, where she massaged it onto my anus with the tip of the cock. It already felt so big, just pressing against it. It was certainly bigger than anything I had tried before.

And then, she forced it in. It took my breath away and brought tears to my eyes, but I pushed back against it, trying to relax my sphincter. I knew if I fought it, it would only get more painful, and I just liked it a little painful. Maybe moderately painful. With a little sting.

I groaned and whimpered, pressed against the wall, recounting all the times when I had dreamed of something like this, someone fucking me like this.

And here I was, the first one fucking me up the ass is a stranger in a sex shop with a strapon. My prayers had been answered! And it was Sunday, even, if my sense of time was not completely gone to hell. #StraponSunday - the irony.

And then it happened. My sphincter gave in and that fat, slick, rubber dick filled my anal canal wider and deeper than anything had ever done before. And it opened up the floodgates.

Wetness started dripping out of my pussy and collected in a pool between my legs while Samantha grabbed my hips and went wild, thrusting into me from behind like she wanted to pound me through the fucking wall. With every stroke, every hit the cock went deeper and my cunt dripped harder, until it became a torrent of juice, just running down both of my legs while I was being fucked senseless in my asshole.

I don't know if I ever climaxed or if the entire experience was one big long orgasm, but at one point my legs gave in below me and I sunk to the floor, with Samantha following me, making sure to keep the dildo lodged inside my ass. I was groaning and sniffling and... crying? Was I crying or was my body just dissolving from every opening?

Suddenly, we heard someone enter the store and a female voice calling: "Hello?"

I was torn. My recently reawakened hunger for fucking made me want to include that other woman as well, but at the same time, I did not want Samantha to stop drilling me, no matter what. And so I crawled, dripping and drooling, teary and snotty, slowly on all fours, with the shopkeeper waddling behind me on her knees, the dildo still firmly lodged inside my ass, out into the store to invite the new arrival to join us.

It was a brilliant plan and guaranteed to work. But when we rounded the corner and came inching, slowly, like a human centi... well, maybe not like a human centipede, but more like a human... caterpillar, or something, out into the store, the young woman who had just entered stared at us, silently, eyes wide and her face motionless, and then muttered just "aw hell nah" and got out the door quicker than you'd expected.

My heart sank for a moment, and then I felt Samantha start to thrust into me again, slowly and carefully. "Oh fuck yes," I gasped, holding onto a rack full of... what were these? Some overly long, double ended dildos? "Can I... uhhh... use this one?" I asked Samantha as we began to fuck our way through her store.