There you were, in produce. I was bagging my broccoli. You were feeling up an avocado. The creak of your leather jacket and the sheen of your boots caught my attention... you caught me staring and it was all over. You laughed at the way my hard nipples showed through my bra. You checked out right behind me. You rode your motorcycle beside me as I walked home on the back streets, so slowly it was impressive the way you balanced it. You didn't say a word for a block or two, just watched me blush. Then the park on the right gave way to woods, and you pulled ahead. Cut the engine. Swung a long, lean leg over, and strolled back towards me. You snaked a finger under my rainbow choker, pulling it tight against my neck, reeling me in for a kiss.
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You could have shoved me into the woods. You could have bent me over your bike, running your capable hands over my ass and thighs, testing me as you did the avocado. You could have kissed me, squeezed me, till I rocked with explosive need... but none of those things happened, because I never saw you at the store. I invented you, last night, working myself into a frenzy of relief and exhaustion so I could get some sleep.
Where are you? And where do you shop?