Panic Buying

As the Corona virus panic started to take hold on America, Wal-Mart decided it would cut back hours on its Super Centers from 24 hours to a 6 AM-11 PM schedule. Thus I found myself in the rain outside my local store at 5:50 one morning, waiting with the other two dozen or so shoppers to get into the store to hopefully stock up on basics, including that most coveted and rare item, toilet paper. Shortly before six, the store manager appeared and let us in, letting us know that there was no paper in the store, but he had a truck coming in within the hour. I went about the store, filling my cart better than I had hoped, but still frustrated at the number of empty shelves for things like mac and cheese, corned beef hash, and not a slice of bread in the entire store. I overheard a couple of stockers say the truck had arrived, and would be unloaded shortly.

As I went to the back of the store, I discovered there was a line extending from the paper goods aisle back toward electronics. It was long, probably 30 people waiting. I was thinking of bagging the paper, then decided, I was already here, might as well see how it goes, maybe it won't be so bad. So I took my place down near stationery, looking idly around at the end displays, and checking news feed on my phone. After a couple of minutes, I saw a cart behind me out of the corner of my eye.

On the other end of the cart was an attractive, petite woman, maybe early 40's, light brown hair the color of honey, standing about 5'4". "What a little cutie," I thought. She was dressed to shop on a rainy morning: nicely form fitting jeans, boots, and a flannel shirt. She looked up, giving me a smile.

"So, another hoarder of toilet paper," I said. "Welcome to the insanity."

A big smile spread over her face. "Yeah, seems I've succumbed to the irrationality along with all the other fools."

I laughed. "Yeah, it is irrational, like there will be no more toilet paper, hand sanitizer, cleaning supplies, Kleenex..."

"Bread," she interjected.

"Bread," I agreed, "ever again. These people will have a garage full of toilet paper til next year, and I bet they get sick of eating mac and cheese by the time this resolves itself."

My erstwhile companion laughed. "Yeah, and I bet a lot of otherwise good food gets tossed because it goes out of date before they can eat all of it."

"No kidding," I said. "That's the real shame of it, all the waste that this insanity will create. I wouldn't be out here, except I didn't get toilet paper last week-when it wasn't a crisis-so now I'm stuck in this mess."

"Yeah, it seems pretty dumb," she said. The line started to move, and we continued to chat as we made our way forward. They were bringing out another pallet of Cottonelle as we turned the corner into the aisle. We each got our allotted package of 18 super sized rolls, parted with a "be careful and wash your hands," and went our separate ways.

As we parted, I said to her, "This has been fun, and you're a delight. I almost wish the line was longer." She agreed and allowed how she had enjoyed the encounter as well. I thought about asking her to Waffle House for a quick bite, but the wedding set on her left hand made me think better of it, much as I liked the idea. We went our separate ways, seeking our retail fortune in the rest of the store.

Fifteen minutes later, I was at the checkout. There were only two live cashiers on, so I selected the long self checkout, the one with the belt like a regular stand. There was a man ahead with only a few items, but he seemed to be having an issue with the card reader. As I waited and unloaded my stuff on the belt, my TP aisle gal came up on the opposite checkout and started unloading her cart. I watched as she leaned over to get things out of her cart, noting that when she moved in certain directions, I could see quite a bit of her left breast. Maybe she's not wearing a bra?? I continued my observation, enjoying the view of the curve of her C cup left tit. One of the things that drives me crazy is a girl next door MILF, who will go braless in public. There's a self assuredness about it that is amazingly appealing, that a woman, especially an attractive one, would go about her day not only not caring about convention, but without one of the main foundational garments, simply because it's comfortable and convenient. And it's incredibly sexy!!

The guy ahead of me finally got the card machine figured out, and left. I moved up and started to scan my items. I looked over to the next lane. "Hey," I said. My gal looked up. "Did you get your panic buying all done??"

She laughed. "Mostly. There are a lot of things they're out of."

"No joke," I said. "It's ridiculous."

"Yeah, it is," she said, with a sigh. "But at this point, you almost have to do this, or there will be nothing left later in the day, and I need the groceries."

"Very true," I said. We again chatted as we scanned and bagged. I was a bit faster on the scanner than she was, and got done first. I collected my receipt from the machine. "It would be nice to come here and not spend a couple hundred bucks not to run out of stuff."

She laughed. "Yeah, I know. It's like when they predict snow here, and everyone clears out the bread and milk, as if they're going to be snowbound for a month, only worse."

"Yeah, four inches of snow here, and everything closes for a week. That's the south for you."

She laughed again. "We used to live in Michigan, and four inches of snow only made a mess, and life went on."

I laughed. "I hear ya. I lived in upstate New York for many years. We'd get 10" of snow overnight, the plows would go by my house at 5 AM, and my kids went to school."

"You know it," she said, laughing at the familiar routine. "We never had a snow day!!"

I had gotten my stuff organized by then, bade her yet another farewell, and was off to load the car. A few minutes later, she came out and started loading her goodies into the car next to mine.

I looked over. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were following me."

She looked over and laughed. "How do you know I'm not??"

I laughed. "I guess I don't. Maybe we're just two lost souls in a crazy world."

She laughed as she put her bags in the back of a Suburban. She struggled with a tub of kitty litter.

"Allow me," said, hefting the tub, and then a second one, into the back of her Chevy.

"Thanks. Sorry you had to work so hard for that." She looked at the kitty litter. "Four cats."

I pointed to my cart, and the two tubs I had. "Same here. Lots of scooping." She laughed as we resumed loading our cars. We finished up, and turned to each other. "As odd as this is, it's been fun. You've brightened what had been a dreary, unsettling morning."

She smiled. "Thanks, and thanks for your help loading. I'm going to have most of this stuff in my garage and pantry til November, but my husband is a little crazy about these things."

"If things keep on the way they have been, it may be good that you have some of it. There may come a time in the very near future when we can't get out much. I realize that we're in kind of a backwater here in flyover country, but it may not take much for the supply chains to be so disrupted that some things are hard to get. Like toilet paper."

She smiled. "I hope you're not right about that, but I fear you may be. My husband sometimes gets wrapped up in conspiracy theories and the like. It's maddening at times."

"Well, just because you're paranoid, doesn't mean they're not out to get you," I said, giving him some credit for reading the situation.

She looked at me. "Yeah, he might have a point. But it's been nice talking to someone who has a more reasoned outlook." She smiled at me. I looked back at her a moment. She held out her hands. "Can I give you a hug?? I haven't been exposed to anything."

I looked at her a moment. I thought, why not. I hadn't been out of town in a couple of weeks. "Sure. We don't have any cases in 100 miles. I'd be delighted." I took her hands in mine, looked in her eyes, and gave her a long hug, holding her close.

As we released, I held her hands for a few long moments. "When we were at the checkout, I thought about asking you if you wanted to go to Waffle House for a quick bite, then saw the wedding set, and thought, maybe not such a good idea. But I'd like to make that offer, if you're OK with that."

She squeezed my fingers. "I'd love that, but I'm really short on time." Her blue eyes flashed at me, and she pulled me toward the back door of the Suburban, opening it, and sliding in. "Come on."

She slid into the back seat from the driver's side, undoing a button on her shirt as I climbed up. I pulled the door shut, watching her as she leaned forward to unzip her boots. I watched intently as her right tit flexed and jiggled as she pulled her boots off. She undid another button as I kicked off my sneakers. I now had a good look at the curve and hang of her breast. I moved toward her, and we kissed. I reached in and cupped the right tit I'd been watching, rolling my thumb and index finger over the nipple, making her sigh.

We undid the rest of our shirt buttons as we kissed, but left our shirts on-it wasn't that warm out, maybe high 40's-and she reached for my jeans, undoing the button, and pulling down the zipper. I opened up hers, and was about to reach in, but felt her stroking my cock over the front of mine. I leaned back to give her access, watching her play with my still denim covered cock. She had a nice touch, and I hardened rapidly.

She looked up at me, smiling. "Nice. I love a hard cock in jeans." She peeled back the top, releasing my now stiff dick, which she stroked with her left hand. I watched her wedding set moving up and down on it, something that always gets me started. She went to push my jeans down, so I lifted my butt off the seat, allowing her the space to get me started. Once she had them down around my knees, I pulled them the rest of the way off. She stroked my cock again, also reaching down to play with my balls, hefting them as she rolled them in her hand. "Mmmm, they're so heavy," she said with a smile. "I like it. Bet there's lots of cum in there for me."

"Keep doing that, there will be buckets," I teased her.

She released my cock, then lifted her ass off the seat, pulling her jeans down to reveal a pair of white cotton panties with a floral pattern on them. It was typical housewife practical, but at the same time, quite sexy. She turned to me after pulling her jeans over her feet, putting her left leg up on the seat. I could see quite a few stray hairs poking out from her leg bands, a few shades darker than the honey colored hair that framed her pretty face. Realizing she couldn't get her panties off in that position, she faced forward a moment, again lifted her ass off the seat, and pulled them down, over her knees and ankles, and off, tossing them on the center console in front, then returned to her position on the seat.

As she faced me, she lowered her right leg to the floor, the left up against the seat. As her legs opened, so did her outer labia, spreading nicely to reveal her barely parted inner lips, framed by a nicely thick loose triangle of brown hair. She smiled at me, and I licked my lips. This was going to be a tasty treat.

I started to kneel, when she stopped me. "No, no," she said, reaching for me. She must have seen the disappointment on my face. She smiled again. "I'd love for you to go down on me. I can tell it's something you're really into."

"Yes, it is. I feel I haven't truly made love to a woman til I've made her cum with my tongue. It's a treat for me-and I bet you're a tasty one."

She giggled. "If by some miracle this ever happens again, you can go to town on me. I can see you really want to. But right now, I don't have a lot of time. My husband is home, probably timing me with a stopwatch, he's so anxious to get this stuff." She reached toward me, taking my hands and pulling me over her as she slid down under me. I felt her hand on my cock, pulling it to its intended resting place.

She put the head at her opening, but she wasn't quite ready for something that big yet. I pushed the head up over her clit, poking into it. She squirmed and giggled, then took it in her hand, rubbing the head up and down on her inner lips. I felt the wetness as they opened, and pushed in, the head spreading her. She let out an "Mmmph" as I pushed past her labia til I met resistance. I pulled back, again she played the head on her clit, and I pushed forward again. I was able to penetrate so about half my cock was inside her. Again I pulled back, once more playing the head on her clit, now pushing into her. This time, I went in slowly, all the way til I felt my balls come to rest on her ass, and the hair around my cock pressing into the soft hair around her opening. I held there for a moment, letting her get used to this stiff invader that was now taking up her insides.

She closed her eyes and grimaced as the base of my cock pressed into her clit, and I rocked slowly to intensify the feeling. I felt her pussy moisten as she let out a long sigh as she had a small orgasm. That did the trick, and I was now able to move more freely. Slowly, I started to pump in and out of her, my swelling cock head poking her cervix on each push. I varied my attack on her vagina, sometimes going deep, sometimes just pushing the head inside her, sometimes changing the angle so I'd tease either her clit or her G spot. Not knowing what was going to be stimulated next made her move her hips as she tried to anticipate where I was going, but when I ran my cockhead and shaft over her clit, it was too much for her, and she whimpered, then moaned, then her hips shook. I pushed in deep, making her yelp as she juiced all over me, and her thighs clamped around me.

Once she came down from her orgasm, we got into a steady, if not quick, rhythm, she meeting my thrusts, pushing up at me from her position on the seat. Just as we got our motion in sync, her phone pinged.

She looked up at me. "Crap. I better check that," she said breathlessly, reaching for her phone. She looked at her text messages. "It's my husband." She looked up at me. "Told you he was timing me with a stopwatch."

"Good thing you weren't wasting time at Waffle House."

She laughed. "I'll just tell him the toilet paper truck just got here," she said, typing, letting him know that, and that she'd be home in a little while.

I was still on top of her, my cock firmly in her pussy as she took her message. Once she was done, we picked up where we left off. After about ten more minutes, I slowed my pace, knowing I would be ready very soon. She picked up on it as well, feeling my cock swell. I'd been leaking precum inside her since we started, so she was already well lubed by now, and I was sliding in and out of her easily.

I looked down at her and kissed her. "Honey, um..."

"Debbie."

"Hi, Debbie. Nice to meet you. I'm Tom."

"Hi, Tom. Nice to meet you too." She reached up, kissing me. "It's good to know the name of the man who has been spreading my pussy so nicely." She kissed me again. I felt her right leg wrap around me, pulling me deeper into her as her blue eyes looked into mine. "The man who is about to ejaculate inside me," she said softly, looking up at me, her eyes sparkling. She kissed me again, much longer and more lustfully this time. She pulled away. My cock had stiffened noticeably when she made the comment about ejaculating inside her. "Mmmm, your cock got so hard. Someone wants to cum in me," said Debbie softly, a smile in her eyes.

I was overcome by the feeling, her words echoing in my mind. "Yeah, Debbie." I felt the inevitable rise. "Cumming, Debbie, sweetie," I said pushing deep. She pushed back, her labia almost swallowing my balls as I released, a short burst of cum, followed by a longer one, then several more, finally seven or eight good, long spurts of semen, each filled with millions of sperm racing to get into Debbie's womb. My orgasm set off hers, and she clamped her legs around me tightly, her hips thrusting erratically at me, finally seizing up as the peak of her cumming hit and she let out a short scream.

After we came together, I stayed hard for another five minutes or so, and I held inside Debbie, giving her slow, short strokes that made her cum again, though not as forcefully. I started to fade, and pulled out of her, sitting up on the seat. I looked at her still on her back on the seat, thighs spread, dark hair matted and cum soaked.

She sat up, leaning against the passenger door. Her inner labia were slowly closing up, but not before a big white glob of my cum dripped out onto the seat, followed quickly by another. She giggled as she felt the tickle of my semen dripping down her left ass cheek.

"I'm going to have a spot," she said with a smile, looking at me. "Hand me my panties??" she said. I reached over to the console, grabbing them and tossing them to her. "Thanks. I don't have any napkins handy, and all the paper goods are in the back." She balled them up and rubbed them on her cum soaked crotch, then folded them over and made another pass. "That's not going to get me too cleaned up, but it will have to do. You made a mess of me," said Debbie, smiling. She tossed them at me, and I found a dry spot, using it to wipe off what remained of our mutual juices. I looked back at her, labia still cum slick, her dark pubes a wet tangle.

"You're gorgeous," I told her. She just smiled at me with her pretty blue eyes, then leaned over to kiss me.

"You know this is everything we shouldn't be doing right now, right??" she said in a questioning voice.

"True," I said. "Never mind the Coronavirus, which we're very likely not going to get, there are all the other risks associated with unprotected sex with a stranger."

"You're right. But I've always had this defiant streak, and there was just something reassuring about you. Somehow, you made me feel safe. But I do have to admit, with being told all the things I'm not supposed to do, and my husband being an idiot with all his conspiracy ideas, well, I just needed a release. You were the right guy at that moment." Debbie looked at me and smiled. "I don't regret it. This was a great stress reliever. And you're so sweet."

"I hope this doesn't get you in trouble at home. I mean, you're going back to hubby very sloppy."

Debbie laughed. "He's so obsessed with his prep stuff, he won't be looking for sex. He's why I'm stressed in the first place." She laughed again.

"You don't suppose you could be coming home pregnant, do you??"

Debbie scrunched her face up as she counted. "It's possible..."

"Will you let me know?? I'll give you my number."

"It's OK," said Debbie. "I've wanted one last baby for several years."

"How many kids do you have now??" I asked.

"Three. Two teenage boys and an eight year old girl. I always wanted four. My husband was good to stop at three." She gave me one of those 'I always get what I want' looks.

I looked at her a long moment, not knowing what to think about the situation. It was totally spontaneous, but now had some serious implications, at least for Debbie. We traded numbers. She looked at mine, then folded the paper and put in in her purse.

"I'll text you some time. But don't text me unless I text you first."

I smiled. I knew the drill. Debbie wasn't my first married lover. "You know that, though?? If you are pregnant, you have to name the baby something like Cory, or even Corona, if it's a boy, and Corinne if it's a girl.

Debbie laughed at the idea of naming a potential future child after a pernicious disease. "You're funny," she said, getting a wry smile. "And twisted. I like that."

We both laughed as we put ourselves back together, Debbie pulling her jeans up over her thighs, and past her soaked pussy. "I'm going to have a spot on my jeans, too. I'll have to sneak in the house," she said, leaning over to kiss me. "But I'll be a sweet mess." She kissed me again.