Big Box box-checker.

It all started with me shopping for spring plants at my local big box hardware store.

Comfortably dressed in short shorts and a loose low cut tank top, sans brassiere, since my perky little B-cups don't really need the support or constriction. Spring is a time for celebration and rejoicing in the freedom from winter.

Feeling a tad naughty, the temptation to give other shoppers a little show simply by bending over at the waist and letting my top fall away, revealing my swaying udders, was hard to resist. But I had serious plant business to attend to first.

It was a warm spring day and despite my scant clothing, I began to perspire as I pulled various plants from the display rack in search of the healthiest specimens.

I hadn't notice that rivulets of sweat began rolling down my breasts to my nipples, either dripping onto my hanging tank when bent over or blotting my areolae when I stood upright, both contributing to the growing wet spots on my tank around my nipples.

Being a well worn, almost thread bare, white tank, my dark nipples provided quite a contrast, leaving little to the imagination as my dampening tank clung to upswept breasts.

Repeatedly, I alternatingly wiped my brow with the back of my hands to keep the streaming perspiration from rolling into my eyes, inadvertently streaking my forehead with dirty stripes of potting soil.

A friendly employee approached me and asked if I needed any assistance.

Bent over, my hands shuffling the potted plants around on the rack, I slowly gazed upward, starting at his knees, my eyes surveyed his outline, up his thighs, to the hem of his shorts, to the bulge under his zipper fly, pausing there for an awkwardly long moment, I wondered how big his erection might be if unrestrained. Self-conscious about my daydreaming, my eyes flashed from his crotch to his face.

He didn't notice my stalled response. His gaze was fixated on my exposed swaying sweaty boobs, beads of sweat randomly succumbing to gravity and dribbling down to the tips of my teats, before dropping into my tank hanging below, mesmerizing him.

My nipples hardening into little spears at the unexpected attention.

I felt my heartbeat quicken with excitement, as my chest began heaving in short breaths.

But I didn't rise up to cover myself. I continued to shuffle the pots, causing my boobs to swing in counter rotating circles, meeting in the middle, rubbing gently together before swinging outward in their orbits.

My response broke his trance. And he glanced briefly at my face, noting that I had dirt on my face, then his gaze dropped back to my boobs.

Since he was enjoying the show, I abruptly stood upright, and cupping the hem of my tank in my hands, I pulled it up to my face, and began wiping my brow, exposing my entire torso, presenting my toned abs and boobs for his inspection, burying my face in my tank.

Playing peek a boo, still holding the tank to the bridge of my nose, I asked him if I got it all, the dirt on my forehead, that is. My rock hard nipples within easy reach, begging to be pinched and suckled.

He inched closer and leaned in. And began whispering.

Dropping my chin and raising my ear to his lips to listen, my eyes fell to his growing bulge, now straining against the fabric of his shorts, its outline betraying its size and his enthusiasm.

My hands clutching my bunched up tank in prayer just above my nipples was an open invitation.

Electricity sparked when his hand unexpected flattened against my exposed belly, his thick middle finger tucking under my waistband, inching downward, his knuckle disappearing underneath, finding the top of my pubic patch. A shiver rippled through me as he approached my pleasure button.

His other hand cupped my ass cheek, his fingertips curling under the hem of my shorts, grasping at my nearest pussy lip. Tugging my lips apart, my pussy exhaled its heat and vapor of arousal. Sensing my wetness, he tested my viscosity with the tip of his middle finger, as if unzipping my lips from front to back, his finger traced my slickened pussy lips, probing for my opening.

Firmly in his grasp, and still willfully lifting my tank and displaying my boobs, he spun me toward to back wall of the garden area, and steered me there to sample sheds for sale. His whispers commanded me to obey.

He cautiously looked over his shoulder as we made our way. I sensed that he nodded but I was too lost in the sensations of his hands working their way together under my shorts from the front and the back to pay much heed.

As we approached the shed, his fingers met in the middle. One middle finger raked my swollen clit and spread my lips, like a hotdog in a bun, from there it was a greased rail to my dripping hole. Clawing at my ass cheek with his other hand, he pried me open like clamshell, allowing his two invading fingers to plunge into me from the front.

Sparks and jolts of pleasure shot through me.

The shed's door was ajar so we slipped inside.

In one motion, his hands slipped from under my shorts and pulled my tank up and off and threw it in the corner of the shed.

I dropped to my knees in front of him, my hands fumbling with his shorts like I was wearing mittens. I urgently wanted to free his cock and taste him.

He pulled me to my feet, almost lifting me off the ground, my toes barely touching.

Dropping me, before my heels hit the ground, my shorts were around my knees.

He pushed downward on my shoulders, pressing me to my knees before him, my tits rising and falling on my heaving chest.

Repositioning one hand to the top of my head, he undid his shorts with other, freeing his one-eyed monster. It sprang from its restraints, straightening to its fullest expression, almost slapping me in the face.

I paused for a moment to appreciate its grandeur and then lunged for it with both hands, my mouth open wide.

My forward momentum and and his hands cupping the back of head pulling me into him drove his cock down my throat to the hilt, his balls slapping under my chin when it found its depth, my hands instinctively grasped his ass cheeks so he couldn't free himself.

He held me there until panic for lack of air caused me to pound on his chest for relief.

Pulling out of my throat, cool air rushing in, I coughed and spat saliva to the side and wiped my mouth and swollen lips.

Squatting on my knees in front of him, like a worshiper, I expected to have another taste, with less urgency.

But instead, he spun me around on my knees, landing on all fours, and mounted me in one long thrust, forcing the air from lungs.

He began sawing into me with long steady strokes bouncing off my ass to begin the cycle anew.

Once I adjusted to his cadence, I pushed back into his descending bat, taking him even deeper into my burning pussy.

My hips were his handles, his fingernails digging into my flesh as he pulled me onto his impaling cock.

Fully buried in me, he twisted and tugged at my nipples, like they were faucets for my self lube.

His pace was erratic, sometimes fast, sometimes slow, building then calming, he wanted to empty himself completely into my waiting receptacle. He was using my body for his pleasure and evidently I was just along for his ride.

Understanding my role, I took matters into my own hands, literally, bringing myself closer to orgasm, with every thrust and pinch from him, I rubbed and twisted myself to higher levels of pleasure.

Abruptly, he pushed my face into the floor of the shed, caking dirt on my sweaty cheek. With each thrust, he dropped his full weight into the descent, plunging ever deeper into me, resistance was futile. My knees buckling under the relentless pounding.

Hoping for a reprieve, I looked back at him. He smiled knowingly. Time to mix things up.

I rose to my palms and began meeting his thrusts again. His cadence was steadily quickening and my mind's thermostat for my pussy was set to high. Our bodies met in claps of sweaty flesh.

My fuse was lit and a few thrusts would send over the edge. I pushed harder into the stabbing cock's onslaught, twisting my own nipples to pull my own trigger.

A tap at the shed door was like a polar plunge, we froze. I was caught with his cock at its deepest, my eyes widening with horror as the door opened.

I turned away to hide my face, dropping to my elbows in shame. The thrusting resumed instantly, nails biting into my hips again, pulling me onto the pole buried deeply within me.

Then a tug of a clump of my hair, like reins on horse, pulled me from behind, up onto my knees, aching my head backwards, my tits pointing straight out and up, and my own weight being used against me to drive the cock to its deepest yet.

There I was, sitting up straight, shoulders back, on my cock throne and ready to receive whoever may be at the door.

"What took you so long?" was the reprimand from over my shoulder to the employee standing at the door.

I was back on all fours with a fresh cock in my throat before I could fully comprehend what had transpired.

We had everything on my menu: Split roast, sausage sandwich; you name it, they relished in it.

I was so slick with their goo, nothing was out of bounds.

At one point, I was grinding away, riding one cowgirl, when I was responded to an insistent push on my back from behind, so I laid down on the one underneath me, expecting another visit to my ass from behind, but he missed his mark and found himself sharing my pussy with his bestie. Not sure if they realized it or not, but I was beyond flooded when they withdrew.

It was a first for me, but it won't be the last. Two spurting at once inside me was something to behold.

It was dark when emerged from the shed and the store was closed. My plants were still in my cart by the display.

I was so exhausted that I forgot to retrieve my tank top.

But I had my chosen plants and quite a few loads of fertilizer.