Shopping

I’m in the supermarket. I don’t know how I got here, I don’t really remember. I don’t know why I’m in the supermarket either. Maybe it’s because of all the people that I ended up here. Maybe I followed someone here without either of us realising. It’s quite possible given the number of people there seem to be around me. And maybe if I could find the person I followed here they could tell me where I was before. I start to ask the questions.

I’m in the washing powder section. Maybe it’s because I need to buy some washing powder, but no, that would be too obvious. Maybe I’ll stroll over to the deli counter and pull off one ticket after another until they throw me out. Maybe I’ll walk through the off-license section and open all the beer cans again. That might make me happy.

A girl comes up to me and asks the usual questions. Everyone I seem to meet asks the same things. But maybe it’s because that’s a part of my work. I’m still not used to it. Maybe I’ll give the usual answer, but no, that would be too obvious. It’s not even a girl, it’s a middle-ager. I see that now and it warms me. I give an atypical answer.

Over in deodorantland now, maybe I need to buy some. Maybe I’ll rearrange the shelves again, but in a different way from last time. I don’t know what I want as usual. I still haven’t found the person I followed and it’s getting late. Maybe he or she just popped in for a carton of juice. Maybe he or she left already and I’d never know. Maybe it’s better for me like this.

Woman spots me and struts across into jam. Maybe this is as good as I get today. Maybe I should cut my losses. I move nearer, start the machine. The rest of me sighs and goes home.

The car is clean and red and fast like arterial blood. I smell like woodsmoke and blue jeans. Trees and houses. Maybe she’ll be nice. But no, that would be too obvious. Maybe she’ll be clean and red and fast like the car. I sort through some thoughts for a couple of minutes, mentally wanking as we drive. I wonder about following people. I like the people who follow me.

The house is large and hot inside. Now I’m following with one thing in mind. Maybe it’s the wrong thing but I don’t think so. Maybe she’ll be nasty. I know I’ll be good.

Woman stands in the hallway in the heat. Maybe the heat is coming from inside her. I catch the heat in my hands and squeeze it into passion, into desire. Woman smells of rain. Machine picks up speed, shifts up a gear. Maybe I should get some real work. This job’s too easy.

We’re on the first landing. I am unwrapping my present slowly. Maybe I’m not that eager to see the gift inside, but I don’t think so. I don’t know where I am. Maybe I should make this quick and get out. Woman makes soft noises as my hands release their heat on her inner thighs. My tongue is talking to her nipples, making waves. Woman shakes all over when I kiss her. Maybe this one will be fun after all. Knickers fall in a wet heap on the floor.

Woman’s bent over the stair rail and I’m fucking her from behind. One hand over her mouth, one up her cunt. She has two fingers at first, maybe she’ll take the lot. I suggest things to her and she seems agreeable. Maybe she’s done this before. It’s only my twenty-third time.

Number three slides in easy enough, but four requires a little more force. Maybe she’s enjoying this as much as I am. I kick her ankles farther apart, slap her to loosen her up some more. Woman makes desperate noises, chews and sucks on my fingers. Maybe I should put her out of her misery, but I don’t think so. I make more suggestions.

Stroke her arsehole with my thumb and she writhes against my hand. Maybe she wants it like that. Maybe I won’t indulge her. Take my hand off her mouth and run my fingers through her pubic hair and she screws herself further back onto my fingers. Maybe she’s the one I followed after all.

Without warning I’m in up to my wrist and she’s dripping off my elbow. Woman screams and I’m punching her inside. She’s twisting and I’m in deeper and deeper. Maybe she can’t get away. Maybe she doesn’t want to. I feel her fighting my fist, squeezing my clenched fingers with her cunt as she comes once, twice, a long hard time. She has good grip. Maybe she hasn’t done this before.

I hold her up and turn her around and kiss her. She tells me her name and she’s beautiful. Maybe now she’ll follow me.

I’m back in the supermarket. Maybe now I’ve got some money I’ll do some shopping. But I don’t think so. The machine’s still running.