Kneeling in the Supermarket for Fun and Profit

a Story by Kellis

Summer, 2006


“This can be yours,” he said, extending the roll of bills toward the woman, fanning them enough for her to see the four $100 denominations.  Dressed in wrinkled jeans and scuffed sneakers, she looked about thirty, shapely though a little thin, with crows-feet in the corners of her eyes, and was just reaching for a box of cereal when he spoke.

She glanced at his money, let the cereal drop into her shopping cart and looked around at him.  Her eyes flashed.  “Leave me alone,” she ordered tightly, “or I’ll tell my husband.”

“That would only get your husband hurt,” he said, stuffing the money into his pocket.

“You know my husband?”

“I know me.  It’s your call.”  He turned away with a smile and pushed his own cart down the aisle.

She caught up with him two aisles over.  At that moment they were the only people visible in the huge market, though the sound of other voices floated over the shelves of merchandise.

She stopped her cart nearby and faced the shelf.  “You said $400.”


“What would I have to do for $400?”

“Suck my dick neatly.”

Her breath huffed.  “Neatly?”

“Without spilling a drop.”


“Right here.”

“Here?  You’re crazy!”

He chuckled.  “Or we can meet in the back for $300.”

“It’s raining.”

“I don’t mean the alley.  A maintenance room is right beyond the rest rooms.”

She looked around with a sneer.  “I get it!  This is a negotiation joke, right?”

“What kind?”

“You want me to act like a hooker while you set lower and lower prices.”

He shook his head.  “I’m perfectly serious.  Lay a can on the floor and drop to one knee like you’re picking it up.  I’ll let you know if anyone comes along.  Then you stuff my dick back in, pick up the can, drop it in your basket and away you go.”

“Leaving your fly open.”

“Oh, I’ll turn my back while you’re leaving.”

She took a can off the shelf and bounced it tentatively in her hand.  Slowly she shook her head.  “It might work if you were a teenager.”

He chuckled.  “You’ve sucked a few dicks, eh?  I’ll surprise you, I think.  Here’s the way it works.  I give you $200 in advance, the rest when I come.  If we get interrupted, you’re still ahead of the game.”

She ceased to bounce the can.  She bit her lip.  Suddenly she shivered.

He said, “Sexy, isn’t it?”

“Sexy, my foot!  It scares me to death.  But that money could save my life.  Give me the advance.”

He peeled off four bills, retaining two in his palm while extending two to her.  She stuffed them into a pocket, dropped to one knee and set the can on the floor beside his foot.

“Take it out,” she said, shivering again.

He unzipped his fly, worked through the cloth and exposed the half-erect organ.  Her head darted forward and her lips encircled it with a slurp.  Her head bobbed several times but a lingering fear of discovery brought up her hand to jack the loose skin instead.  She held the swelling head behind tight lips, cheeks collapsing with suction but stirred by the furiously stroking tongue.

“Ah-h-h,” he breathed.  “Blown in a supermarket by a stranger: what a fantasy!  You’re about to get a mouthful, you brave little slut.”


* * *


“Mr. Garfield, take a look at that.”

“Just a minute, Marie…  Okay, what is it?  You mean that couple on Aisle 7?”

“That’s what I mean.”

“She’s picking up …  No.  What is she doing?”

Sarcasm was heavy in Marie’s voice.  “You mean you can’t tell?”

“Good lord, she’s giving head!”

“No shit!”

“In a supermarket, for god’s sake!”

“What’re you gonna do about it?”


“What if a kid comes along?”

“A kid?  School’s in session.”  Garfield gulped then straightened up.  “But you’re right.  Call the cops if he gets aggressive.”

Garfield slipped on his work jacket and hurried to the stairs, taking them two at the time despite his paunch.  On the ground floor he jerked open the door marked Private and darted into the store.  Rounding the front of Aisle 7, he spotted the couple between canned soups on one side and condiments on the other, still in their unmistakable poses.  Leaning forward, unconsciously clenching his fists, he set out toward them with determination.

The man mumbled something.  The woman rose to her feet and dropped a can in her shopping cart as he whirled around to his own cart.  She pushed hers toward Garfield’s end of the aisle, averting her face, although not enough to conceal a bright pink earlobe.  Meanwhile the male shopper’s elbow twitched, obviously zipping his fly before he pushed his cart toward the far cross aisle.

Garfield stopped after a few paces and watched the woman draw past him briskly.  He cleared his throat but when he was ready to speak, she had already rounded the corner.  He shook his head, shrugged and turned back toward the office.


* * *


When she had crossed the store, she spied him down Aisle One: Candy, Soda Pop and Wine.  “I nearly won the whole thing, didn’t I?” she whispered fiercely as her cart drew abreast of his.

He grinned widely.  “You sure did.  That was close.”

“I could tell.  I still want it.”

“You’ll suck my dick in a supermarket for $200?”

She stared at him, bit her lip and finally said in a low voice, “Yes, if you’ll hurry up.”

“They can’t see into this aisle from their one-way mirrors, but I’m sure they noticed both of us go into it.”

“Just show me the money.”

He removed the two bills from his pocket, flashed them at her and curled them into his palm.  “This time you take it out.”

She looked around hurriedly but saw no other face.  No longer bothering with the pretense of a dropped can, she knelt, snatched his zipper down and fished out the shrunken organ.

With it grasped in her hand she paused to glare up at him.  “This better not take long.”  Her mouth snapped around it like a fish taking the hook.


* * *


“They’re together in Aisle One.”

Garfield had stopped in the store to straighten a display.  Now he was breathing hard from climbing the stairs.  “Already?  Are you sure?”

“I watched them.  Is your camera on?”

“It should be.”  He turned away.  “Keep an eye on the checkers.”

“Want me to call the cops?”

“Not yet, Marie.  We don’t have any evidence.”

“How do you plan to get any?  She’ll swallow it.”

He paused at the door to stare at her.  “Swallow the evidence?  You mean money?”

“No, I don’t mean money!”  Red spots appeared on her cheeks.

He shook his head and ducked into his office.  One of the small video screens showed Aisle One clearly, including two figures sideways to the camera: a woman kneeling before a man.


* * *


The man grunted as he began to ejaculate, while her fists clenched and her whole body quivered with tension.  Her suction continued, converting his grunts into groans.  His fists also clenched, but he endured the compression until his last squirt, withdrawing suddenly with a pop.

“Good god!” he declared.

She stood up, wiped moisture off her bottom lip with the back of one hand and held out the other toward him, palm up.

He tucked himself back into his pants, zipped up and laughed tauntingly as the bills in his hand returned to his pocket.

“Hunh-uh!” she snorted, eyes glaring.

He said, “Let this be a lesson to you.  Whores collect in advance.”

Her mouth worked.  Parting her lips only slightly, she declared, “I’ll sk’eam wape!”

“‘Wape,’ is it?”  His eyes danced.  “You’ll need some evidence.”

Her finger pointed to her mouth.  “Gah’ plen’y.”

“Be damned!”  His chuckle changed character.  “Guess you do.”  He extended the bills toward her.  “When you swallow.”

Before he thought to grip them, she snatched them from his hand and shoved them into her jeans pocket.

“Swallow, damn you!” he hissed.

At last her throat worked.  She licked her lips before sneering.  “I hope your money’s better than your word, you slimy bastard.”

His glare turned into a laugh.  “How’d my slime taste?”

She flushed and backed away, angrily watching as he pushed his cart up the aisle toward the checkout.

Hearing heavy breathing, she spun around.  A short and stocky man stood panting behind her, wearing a blue work jacket embroidered with the words Store Manager above the right pocket.  He had approached silently in his sneakers on the tile-over-concrete floor.

“Oh, god!” she cried softly, flinching back.

To her surprise, the short man stepped forward, almost touching her, bent his head and sniffed ostentatiously.  He backed off a step, tilted his head to regard her, wrinkled his nose and declared, “He did come!”

The woman’s face turned pale.  “Who …  What …”

He studied her for a moment.  “Was that your first blowjob in a supermarket?”

“I, I …”

“You do know it’s against the law.”

“Oh, god!”  She seemed to gather her wits.  “Mister, is there any way I can … fix this?”

“What do you propose?”

She swallowed audibly.  “B-blow you too?”

Slowly a smile stretched his lips.  “That’s a charming suggestion.”

She took a deep breath.  Her hands parted his jacket tails.  Suddenly she froze.  “He said you didn’t have a window on this aisle.  How’d you know?”

“He was right.  But we had so much pilfered candy we had to install a video camera.  See it up there?  It repeats in my office.”

She looked.  “Who’s watching us now?”

He giggled.  “Nobody.  I disconnected the wire.  But anyone might want candy, soda pop or wine.  Follow me.”

He turned away to an unmarked door at the end of the aisle and selected one key from the large bunch chained to his belt.

Hurriedly she caught up.  “What’ll I do with my cart?”

“No one will bother it.”  He unlocked the door and beckoned her past him.  It was a small room stacked with boxes except for an aisle.  He locked the door behind them and flipped on the light.

She dropped to her knees.  His zipper sang.  She sighed.  “You were sure I’d do it, weren’t you?”

He leered.  “I was hoping.”

“This is a lot of hope!”  Her mouth enclosed him.

After a while he said reminiscently, “The last time I had this much fun was in high-school.  I caught the music teacher blowing another kid.”  His hips began a gentle undulation.  “But it doesn’t always have to be blackmail.  Call here, ask for the manager and mention Aisle One … off which you’re about to get another mouthful.”

Shortly he groaned and thrust his hips forward.  She rode with him, finally backing away slowly, lips closing behind the organ.

She looked up and shook her head.  “You were even fuller than Slimy.”


“Because he tried to cheat me.”  Her lip curled as she stood up.  “What should I call you?”

He grunted.  “You’re being paid.”


* * *


Marie said scornfully, “I see her checking out.  What took you so long?”

Panting from the climb, Garfield shrugged.  “I wanted to get the story.”

“The story!  But did you get any evidence?”

“You were right about that: she swallowed it.”

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