Getting groped by a 15 year old boy. - w4m
I went commando because it was a quick jaunt to the grocery store. I was out of milk and I needed laundry detergent. Mistake one.
I was in a hurry, I was jittery because I’d had too much coffee and I don’t weigh enough (110 pounds), nor am I tall enough (5’4) to support that kind of caffeine intake (three cups nearly kills me); even the automatic doors at the grocery store made me jump. Mistake Two.
I was in a hurry. So much in fact, that I didn’t notice my puberty-stricken, hormonally unbalanced stalker, from the detergent to the milk aisle. Mistake Three.
I reach up to get the milk, and there is a warm hand on my ass. Not just on my ass, as in a tiny accident. This was a grip, a left ass cheek violation. Not to mention I wasn’t wearing anything underneath, so a thin little skirt wasn’t exactly blocking his gripping pleasures.
“You’re hot….” I hear whispered against me.
I whipped around and hammered you in the side of the head with the milk bottle.
I really knocked you cold. You fell backwards. I had no idea those specialty milk containers could be so destructive. I had no idea I was so strong.
You really scared the shit out of me and I was already jittery enough. The whipping around like that, and, you obviously weren’t expecting to be bludgeoned in a drive-by-milking, but nonetheless, you caught me at a very jumpy state, and that just put me over the edge. You frightened me. It isn’t everyday I get a molested by someone seven years younger than me.
When you got back up, kind of dazed, you gave me the whole, “what the fuuuuuck?”
So I smiled and tried to bring humor to the situation. I was twirling my hair (a nervous habit). Then I walked away, happy with myself and my new found weapon of horny-teenager destruction.
So, lesson learned, okay little one? There will be a time and place for you to grip plenty of hot ass. That time and place is not the dairy section, with a total stranger, seven (or possibly more) years older than you, holding a bottle of milk.
I will admit, I was kind of amused. And possibly flattered.
My Missed Connection: My boyfriend, Jason. When was the last time you gripped my ass, whispered in my ear, and told me I was fucking hot? I want you to think about that. Am I supposed to be satisfied from the cat-calling construction workers and 15 year old boys? More than anything, this was sign. You’ve known for the last six months you’re the only one who has access to this poon. Start taking advantage of this, or I’ll just leave. It’s not like we’re married or engaged or even seriously beyond the six-month mark.
And that’s enough out of me.
- this is in or around San Francisco
- no -- it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests