Letâs meet up at a Goodwill. But not a regular one. One of those Goodwills that has piles of stuff in big bins with wheels. Where the clothes are a dollar a pound and the books are 2 for a dollar.
I hide in a huge bin of clothing and bedding. One thatâs already been picked through so nobody is disturbing us.
You crawl in too.
We take each otherâs clothes off. The grime of the dirty used clothes and the never washed plastic mix with our sweat. The smell of your cheap strawberry perfume, the kind I loved in 2nd grade, mixes with the smell of strangerâs B.O. in the musk of old abandoned clothes.
We quietly and slowly fuck. Maybe some mouthy mexican grandma with rubber gloved hands reached into our clothing cocoon and grabs my arm. I whisper. âYo estoy loco para Cocoa Puffsâ. Maybe she calls the police. Maybe she joins us. Maybe. Just maybe she brings us cereal.
Then. If we donât go to jail, Once you and Maria cum over and over again in pleasure bin, we wait until we are being rolled out. Itâs then that we all stand up and scream naked âFuck this place!â
Then we streak around the Goodwill while all the other patrons shed their clothes and join the streak. Probably chanting âFuck Goodwillâ with us.
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