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This is an extract from ‘The Shopping Trip’ by Salvaje Dominado. The full story, which features female submission and light, consensual BDSM can be accessed at: http://www.lulu.com/content/205151
The Shopping Trip
It was a drizzly November day as Gregory pulled into the out of town shopping centre on his way home. Now he had to fend for himself, the purpose of his usual Thursday visit was to grab something for dinner that night; and buy stuff for over the weekend. It was nothing more exciting than that and he certainly didn’t anticipate the events that were to unfold that evening, or in the weeks to come.
Sex was the last thing on Greg’s mind and since his divorce, what with his work and other social commitments; Greg had almost come to terms with what he hoped was his temporary celibacy. So, as he arrived tired at the end of the day and parked his car, the thought that the evening might end in a sexual encounter didn’t even enter his head.
Even if it had, he wouldn’t have dared imagine it would be with a woman who would submit to him so freely; and happily let him use her in accordance with his preferences. Although he had always done what he could to make sure his wife had an orgasm when they were together, it had been the manner in which he achieved it which had been his undoing. She had half-willingly submitted to being tethered, whether to the bed or elsewhere; but his determination to enjoy every orifice she possessed was more than the straight-laced Cynthia had been willing to accept and she’d requested a divorce.
Locking his new BMW coupι and not bothering with his coat for the short walk to the supermarket entrance; Greg pulled his jacket together against the chill wind. As he approached the entrance, one of the staff tidying trolleys pushed a small trolley towards Greg who nodded his thanks. Greg was not only thankful but relieved as he passed through the ‘air curtain’ which protected the warm inside of the store from the cold outside.
If he had been able to recall what had been in his mind at that precise moment as he straightened his jacket, it would have been nothing more exciting than what to have for dinner preferably something he could easily heat up in the microwave a bachelor’s special. ‘Chinese or Indian?’ he wondered, ‘I couldn’t face another pizza!’
And it was at that moment that Greg stopped dead in his tracks. ‘Good God!’ he muttered under his breath as he noticed her for the first time, pushing her trolley in front of him down the first isle. She was quite slim, size ten or twelve Greg guessed and about five feet nine tall: that is she would have been about five feet nine if it hadn’t been for the heels which must have brought her up to almost six feet tall.
Possibly in her late thirties, she wasn’t particularly pretty but, as she stopped to examine something and turned sideways on to Greg; he noticed she had the sort of handsome appearance some mature women were blessed with, that really appealed to him. Her makeup was immaculate and her general appearance suggested a woman who didn’t have to worry about the extent of her clothes budget: everything she wore was subtly expensive!
She was dressed just the right side of raunchy to still be respectable and in clothes just about as fashionable as she could get away with at her age; and when she stopped, several yards behind, Greg did so too. Trying not to stare noticeably, Greg could make out she was wearing a clinging, black top (the top of a stretch body ?) under a shiny and close fitting red leather jacket. The jacket was styled like a biker’s jacket, but much more feminine; and as she moved it creased as though it was as soft as butter.
Greg’s wife had had expensive tastes in clothes and he suspected that inside the collar of her jacket, the label would read something along the lines of ‘Chanel’ or possibly ‘Loewe’. But that wasn’t what was the centre of Greg’s attention, for Greg’s eyes were riveted on two of her assets, now probably slightly fuller than they had been in the first flush of her womanhood, barely concealed by a pair of close-fitting slacks.
Greg was now sure he was staring but managed to look away in time, or so he thought, just as she turned and looked in his direction. He hadn’t been quite quick enough however and raising an eyebrow, she pursed her lips as she detected his interest; before turning on her precarious heels and pushing her trolley forward.
Greg had been in a sexual wilderness for the last couple of months since the divorce well if the truth be known, and for about eighteen months prior to the divorce coming through. He took no pleasure from ‘playing with himself’ and apart from a short series of dates; he hadn’t had any intimate female companionship since the break-up of his marriage. The woman was starting to get to him he wasn’t erect as such ... but he felt his pants starting to restrict the beginnings of one.
Looking up he realised she’d moved off. ‘Good God!’ he muttered again as he watched the twin globes undulate, barely constrained by the thin fabric that covered them, as she walked off down the isle. Self-consciously, Greg reached down to adjust himself inside his pants and hoping no-one had noticed what he was doing, turned into a cross isle, abandoning the vision which he found so alluring after all, he didn’t want to end up being accused of stalking the woman!
Greg spent the next five minutes walking disconsolately up and down the refrigerated displays of ‘ready meals’, for once in his life indecisive; as the original choice between Chinese and Indian seemed to have grown to include Italian and Thai as well. He just couldn’t get the thought of that wonderful arse out of his mind.
Reaching back into the chilled display, to again replace a dish he’d rejected; Greg realised that the owner of those delectable buttocks was standing next to him, reaching into the same cabinet in fact. Suddenly their eyes made contact. ‘Sorry!’ they chimed in unison, in that particularly English way. Greg made to get out of her way. His sudden nervousness however, only resulted in him getting more in her way than before. ‘Sorry!’ he said again in embarrassment, this time stepping back to give her sole access to the chilled cabinet.
Bending over, she reached right into the cabinet, picking up a package from the back of the display. ‘Why didn’t she take one from the front?’ Greg wondered momentarily, before his attention was drawn to the seat of her pants; where the fabric, now stretched taught, partly divided the cheeks of her arse. ‘Phew!’ he exclaimed audibly without realising it.
Straightening, the woman turned to face him. ‘There’s a problem?’ she enquired. Her tones were modulated, sophisticated and reflected a privileged upbringing. Suddenly Greg felt self-conscious and became aware of his cheeks colouring. ‘I It’s Oh God’, he stammered before managing to say, ‘It’s just that you have an adorable derriθre!’ suddenly realising he sounded remarkably like Hugh Grant in doing so.
She cocked an eyebrow, but her eyes were smiling. ‘Adorable?’ came her response. ‘Absolutely adorable!’ Greg exclaimed, before babbling nervously on, ‘Not just stroke-able but highly kissable as well!’ Suddenly there was hardness in her eyes. ‘So kind!’ she replied, but now she was clearly unsure whether this was a spontaneous reaction on his part or whether he was some sort of pervert who regularly accosted women to compliment them on their backsides.
‘I’m sorry’, continued Greg, now clearly on the back foot, ‘I know it’s a bit personal and I won’t pester you again but I just had to tell you because it’s just so ’ His voice tailed off, now sure he’d said too much. She finished his sentence for him ‘Adorable?’ she said putting the chilled package in her trolley.
Greg blushing like a teenager, nodded. Again she cocked up one eyebrow and a half smile appeared on her lips; before she turned back to her trolley and started to push it away from him. Greg, now erect inside his pants, watched her as she pushed her trolley down the isle well, he watched part of her as she pushed her trolley down the isle.
Reaching the end she had to turn and with her trolley now half full; her buttocks strained against the fabric of her pants, with the effort required to push the trolley round the corner whilst not losing her footing on the tiled floor. Looking sideways, she caught him watching her and smiled. Greg’s heart skipped a beat. Further down his manhood throbbed in need.
Some minutes later, Greg realised they were walking in opposite directions down the same isle, towards one another. As they passed one another, apart from an almost imperceptible sideways glance she didn’t acknowledge his presence at all, but just carried on walking. Greg waited a few seconds before the urge to turn and watch her became too strong. ‘God God!’ be hissed one more time as he watched her buttocks tense and sway under the stretchy fabric. Surely no woman’s hips swayed that much not even on 3 heels unless she was deliberately
The sight left him dazed unable to concentrate on what he was doing and he wandered aimlessly round the store; as much to give his erection time to subside before checking out as anything else. Greg was aware of a trolley passing close by him and then suddenly she was standing next to him. Letting go of the trolley she put her hands on her hips, causing her jacket to part; and looked him straight in the eye.
She may have been looking him in the eye, but Greg’s attention was drawn to the modestly sized breasts and prominent nipples showing through the clinging material of her top. She waited, hands on hips, until he looked up. Turning away from him, she leant over an open tipped freezer cabinet, looked over her shoulder and with a half smile on her lips murmured, ‘It’s a bit public for a kiss, but you can stroke it if you like!’
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