I was just picking up a few things on my way home from work. Trying to remember what was on my mental grocery list as I wander the aisles of the supermarket. I think we need more coffee; my wife's been going through it pretty quickly lately. Well, we probably need creamer, too, then. Shit, I really should start writing these things down.

I was just about to turn down the snack aisle (Cheez-its, I think, or was it Wheat Thins?) when BAM! Your cart smashed right into mine. "Oh, I'm so sorry!" you said.

"Don't worry about it, no harm done," I replied. I quickly took it all in: dirty blonde hair up in a messy bun, bright blue eyes, a gray tank top over a black sports bra; tight capri-length leggings. Your toned arms and shoulders were on full display. You must have been picking up dinner after your yoga class.

The cart full of juice boxes, goldfish crackers, and frozen dino nuggets let me know you were rushing home to at least one small child. We maneuvered our carts around each other and went on our way. I turned my head to finish checking you out and suddenly remembered peaches. Yeah, we need peaches.

I ended up in the self-checkout right next to you. I finished before you and headed out to the parking lot, slowing my pace just a little. It turns out we were parked right next to each other. I opened my trunk as you pressed the button to open the rear gate on your minivan. As you were lifting your bags into the back, I dropped a peach, and watched it roll right towards you.

You bent down to pick it up, your shirt falling open just a little bit. You take a step towards me and say, "Excuse me, I think this is yours."

I reach out to grab it, our fingers lightly touching, looking right in your eyes, "Yes, it is. Thank you."

So, what happens next? Do we part ways? Were you checking me out, too? Do we just go for it in your minivan?

Kinks are slow-build romantic, passionate scenarios, cheating, risky sex, kissing, clothes on, heavy petting

Limits are violence, non-con, blood, gore, scat, incest