Golden Rolls

Babes

In my effort to keep a distance from others, I ended up walking down one particular aisle with conspicuously bare shelves. Only a few lonely rolls of paper towels remained. I made my way to the back of the store, where double doors with two small oval windows stood between the meat and dairy cases. There, I stopped and sent a text.

“I’m here.”

There was no reply, but a minute later, I saw a face appear in one of those oval windows. I opened my jacket and saw the excitement in his eyes. I waited until I didn’t see anyone in the back aisle of the store, and then nodded. He opened the door, and the deal went down. I placed the sealed copy of Dragon Warrior for the NES on the floor just in front of the doors. I’d picked it up out of a Toys-R-Us sale bin in 1992 — one of five I’d purchased that day for $4.99, along with an equal number of sealed copies of the original Final Fantasy.

I knew then that they’d be worth something one day. I had no idea just how much they would be worth.

An excited, “Yes,” sounded as he reached through the doors and claimed his prize, which he replaced with mine — a 24-pack of Charmin double rolls that he’d put aside and hidden when the truck arrived the previous night.

The deal done, and my treasure in hand, I made my way to the front of the store through the still empty toilet paper aisle. I saw two other shoppers snap their gaze toward me as I crossed the front of the store — their eyes wide above the makeshift masks covering their faces. The cashier looked no less surprised and somewhat suspicious as she rang me up behind her plexiglass shield.

Mission complete, I returned to my apartment. The multi-pack would likely last me months, but it was the only size they were able to get from their distributor thanks to all the Covid-19 panic buying. As I approached the door to my apartment, I saw the two young blondes who lived just down the hall unlocking their door. Their conversation ceased and their eyebrows shot up in amazement at the sight of the bundle beneath my arm.

I gave them a quick nod — admiring their tight, young bodies in the process — and opened my door. Once inside, I went through the ritual of wiping down the toilet paper pack, the doorknob, washing my hands, and prepared to get into the shower. I was interrupted by my doorbell ringing.

When I looked through the peephole, I saw one of my sexy young neighbors standing an appropriate distance away from the door, apparently rubbing in hand sanitizer. I opened the door, and she gave me a little wave.

“Hi. I hate to bother you, but we’re almost out of toilet paper, and we’re getting desperate. Is there any chance we can buy some from you?”

I had more than I needed, and I knew how difficult it was to get, so I said, “Well…”

The rest of the sentence was supposed to be, “How about I give you a couple of rolls to be neighborly.” I never got to finish it, because she must have misunderstood that moment of hesitation.

“I’ll show you my tits,” she interjected.

It was my turn to stand with my mouth agape in shock as I tried to process that. The last thing I would have ever expected that day was a sexy little minx half my age offering to bare her breasts to me for some T.P.

One of her carefully sculpted — but real — eyebrows lifted, drawing attention to brilliant blue eyes. For some unfathomable reason, I found myself taking note of her light makeup and the subtle, complimentary shade of her lip gloss. Ankara travesti It was as if my brain was searching for something tangible to latch onto in a storm of disbelief.

“We’ve seen you looking at us,” she said with a coy little smile. “Let me buy some toilet paper, and I’ll let you get a good look at them — from an appropriate social distance.”

I shook my head to chase away the last vestiges of shock and chuckled. “What? Right here in the hall?”

“Well, I thought I’d step inside.”

The thought of it had set my cock to rapidly hardening, so I nodded and moved out of the doorway. She didn’t hesitate in the slightest as she followed me. She glanced at the toilet paper pack, which was still sitting on the tile next to the door, and then reached for the bottom of her tight top while stepping the CDC recommended six feet away.

While holding her top pinched between her fingers and thumb, she asked, “How much?”

The blood draining out of my brain took my inhibitions with it, apparently. I said, “I’ll give you a roll for free, for a full minute of looking at those gorgeous tits.”

“Done,” she said, and immediately lifted her top.

She wasn’t wearing a bra, and I drank in the sight of those beautiful young breasts. They were a little more than a handful in size, and perfect little teardrops. Her areolas and nipples were a slightly more rosy hue than the pale skin of the globes. It looked to me as if her nipples were hard. They were certainly standing out as if they were. They were easily the most magnificent tits I’d beheld in many years.

She giggled and gave a shake to make them quiver. “You like?”

“They’re incredible.”

Even though my eyes were fixed on her tits, I saw her hook a thumb under the waistband of her shorts in my peripheral vision.

“How many rolls to show you my pussy?” she asked.

I looked up and saw her twitching her eyebrows while wearing a crooked smile.

“Three. But the minute starts over,” I answered.

Once again, she giggled. She pushed her shorts and panties down at the same time, wriggling the tight garments over her hips. I heard the cloth sliding over her skin as she stepped out of them, but my eyes were glued between those smooth thighs. She was shaved bare. My mouth watered, and my cock throbbed. She reached down and parted her nether lips, giving me a brief glimpse at the youthful pink within. I couldn’t help but groan and adjust my aching erection.

“Thirty seconds,” she said at what felt like a second later to me.

What the hell. May as well go for it, I thought. I lifted my eyes with some effort and said, “I’ll give you six rolls to watch you play with yourself.”

Her features tightened for a moment, and she bit her lower lip. I saw her glance toward the table near the door, where my can of Lysol was sitting. She said, “Spray down the couch first? Six rolls?”

I nodded.

“Five minutes?”

“Five minutes,” I agreed.

“Okay.” She turned and bent over to retrieve her phone from her shorts, giving me an incredible view of her tight little ass.

I headed straight for the Lysol, not taking my eyes off the display she was putting on. By the time I snatched it up, she was kicking off her shoes. I liberally sprayed down one end of the couch, and then grabbed a book sitting on the end table next to it. I watched her peel off her socks — obviously putting on a show — while I fanned the couch, drying Konya travesti the disinfectant spray.

She put one hand on her hip and cocked it to the side in a sexy pose. After a few more seconds of watching me fan, she said, “Good enough.” She pointed to my recliner and said, “You sit there.”

I took my seat while she walked over to the couch. She tapped on her phone, turned it to show me the timer she’d set up, and then sat down. She leaned into the corner where the arm met the back, and splayed her legs wide open. She tapped her phone, and immediately slid a hand down her body to her pussy.

She pulled her finger up the parting of her lips, leaving the tip glistening. Then she circled the newly slippery digit over her clit, and drew in a sharp, shuddering breath.

“God, you’re sexy,” I half growled while squeezing my aching cock through my jeans.

She winked at me while dipping her finger back into her pussy. When her finger returned to her clit, she asked, “Pants a little tight?”

“A lot.”

“Oh, really?” she said, and giggled. “Show me.”

She didn’t need to ask me twice to free my erection from the confines of my jeans. I popped open the button, pulled down the zipper, and fished it out of my boxers. The moment my cock emerged, I heard her gasp.

“Oh my lord,” she exclaimed. “I wasn’t expecting that. How big is it?” Her fingers moved a little faster over her clit.

I shrugged while standing my cock straight up with my thumb. Her eyes were fixed on it as it twitched. “I guess about eight inches.”

She moaned. “Play with it for me.”

That was yet another request I had no trouble fulfilling. I wrapped my hand around my cock and began to stroke.

A long moan escaped her, and she dipped two fingers deep into her pink, glistening pussy. “I’ve never actually watched a guy jack off before,” she remarked while her left hand took over on her clit. “At least, for real.”

“Can’t remember the last time I saw a woman masturbate.”

She shuddered while finger-fucking herself. “I don’t know why any girl would, with a cock like that available.” She pouted and added, “Except for a global pandemic.”

“I’d have to lick that pussy first,” I said, and then lifted off the chair to push my jeans down off my thighs. I cupped my balls in my left hand, and went back to stroking with the right.

“Mmm hmm,” she moaned. The fingers penetrating her moved a little faster. “I haven’t had sex since this started. Just looking at it is making me ache. I wish I’d brought my vibrator.”

Her fingers slipped from her clinging embrace just long enough to add a third. She groaned as the three digits stretched her tight young pussy. As difficult as it was, I stroked my erection slowly, sliding the skin over the hard core. The deal was only for five minutes, and as much as I wanted to come, I didn’t want her to see me come in that short amount of time.

I knew I could — and would — finish as soon as she left, while the image of her tight body was still fresh in my mind’s eye.

“God, that’s so hot,” she gasped. Her fingers plunged in and out of her canal. They were coated well past the second knuckle in her wetness, and it was beginning to dribble toward the back of her hand. “Faster. I want to see you come.”

“That might take longer than five minutes,” I lied. I had little doubt that if I got down to business while watching her pleasure herself, it wouldn’t take anywhere İzmir travesti near that long.

The hand that was rolling her clit paused, and she reached up to shut off the timer on her phone. “I want to see you come,” she repeated.

“Same here.”

“I’ll tell you when I’m close.” She was obviously ready to get there, because she switched from circling her fingers over her clit to a rapid back and forth motion. At the same time, she plunged the fingers of her other hand into her hard enough for her hand to clap against her skin.

The claps sounded frequently as she fucked herself hard. Whimpers and gasps tumbled from her lips. I grunted as the sight caused me to shiver.

“I wish it was inside me,” she whimpered. “So deep.”

I let out a growl. “God, I wish I was pounding that pussy and making those tits bounce.”

“Oh fuck yes,” she squealed. I could hear the squishy sound of her fingers diving into her mingling with the slaps of her hand.

The fingers over her clit moved in a blur. The fap sound of my fist sliding over the helmet ridge of my cock joined the symphony of sex echoing back from the walls. She began to twitch and arch her back. Her whimpers grew louder and more frequent, punctuated every so often by a high-pitched grunt. Even though I was still holding back, I could feel the tickle in the head of my cock swelling.

She suddenly planted a hand on the couch with the other still buried inside her, lurched backward a bit, and somehow managed to drive her fingers into her pussy even more quickly and forcefully.

Her voice tight with pleasure, she said, “Almost there. Come for me.”

I didn’t have much choice at that point. I gave in to the need. I squeezed my balls, slipped a finger back to the ropy ridge beneath them, and stroked hard. I breathed heavily, grunting from the electric pulses shooting through me as I reached the point of no return.

“Yes! Come! Come!” she cried as her face reddened and her features tightened.

A low growl rumbled in my throat as I teetered on the precipice for several strokes, and then I was there. My breath exploded from my lips in a sharp, inarticulate cry, and thick ropes of cum spurted up onto my t-shirt.

Her head lashed back and she wailed as her orgasm claimed her — just when a second powerful jet of semen spattered on my shirt. I fought against the ecstasy ripping through me to keep my eyes open so I could watch her. She thrashed and writhed on the couch with her fingers buried inside her. Her every indrawn breath was a noisy gasp, followed by a squeal, whimper, or yelp. I could see her struggling to keep her eyes on my spurting cock as well.

It had been a couple of days, and every drop I’d built up surged forth with fire hose intensity. I loudly grunted with every ejaculation, steadily covering my dark t-shirt in contrasting white, sticky streamers.

After what felt like an eternity, I began to dribble down my closed fist. I gave in to my heavy eyelids and let them drift shut while panting for breath. I could hear her doing the same, though a loud, squeaky moan passed her lips at one point.

Our eyes opened at the same time, and we both let out weak, satisfied laughter at the sight of each other in spent disarray.

That pack of toilet paper had been worth its weight in gold.

****

Thanks for reading my silly little ditty!

This is an entry in the Love the One(s) You’re With contest. Your votes determine the winners, so I’d appreciate yours. One vote per reader. No shenanigans!

As always, comments and favorites are most welcome. They raise the profile of the story, which attracts more of the same, and the feedback is what fuels me to keep coming back for more.

In my effort to keep a distance from others, I ended up walking down one particular aisle with conspicuously bare shelves. Only a few lonely rolls of paper towels remained. I made my way to the back of the store, where double doors with two small oval windows stood between the meat and dairy cases.…

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