Shopping Mall Hottie

Big Tits

“I’m hungry,” Marcia whined.

I kept telling myself it’s worth it. Only at the Mall Food Court can you stand in line for a hour for a delectable slice of cheese pizza. You know, the kind that leaves behind that triangular grease spot on the paper plate after you’ve picked it up to bite into it, reminding you that most of the grease is on its way to clogging your arteries. It’s worth it, I repeated to myself, as the young dad at the front of the line seized “ordering lunch” as a learning opportunity for his snot-nosed kid, already out of sorts since there’s no Happy Meal and hence no toy coming with lunch today.

“Tell him what you want, Austin.”

“Pizza! YAY, Pizza, pizza, pizza!”

“What kind?”

“What kind do they have, Daddy?”

“Look at the menu, big guy. You’re my big reader now.”

“Where’s the TOY?” Austin screamed.

“We’ve been through that already, Austin. This isn’t McDonald’s. Do you see Ronald anywhere?”

I was about to offer to buy Austin and his daddy their lunch if I could order for them, when the tight-lipped stone-faced “Where are we, Sesame Street?” stare from the attitude-rich girl behind the cash register altered Daddy’s approach. “Oh, I’m sorry, we’ll have two slices of cheese pizza, a lemonade, and an…what kind of bottled water do you have?”

“Aquafina,” came the flat reply from behind the register. You’re my big reader now is what I would have added, but I’m sure I wouldn’t last long working at Sbarro’s.

It’s worth it. Austin and Austin’s Daddy made their way to their table as I turned my attention to the woman from Stride-Rite in front of us. I won the bet I made with myself that she was coming with multiple orders that would each have to be rung up separately, she’d have separate money for each, AND she’d have to call one of her co-workers to tell her there was no…whatever it was she wanted…left, and that she’d have to order something else.

“Feed me, NOW!” Marcia added, tugging at my sleeve. She was half-whining, half-kidding, but I was scarcely amused. I stared straight ahead, arms crossed, reminding myself every minute we stood in line was one less minute of knick-knack shopping at Kirkland’s or “God, these jeans make my butt look huge” at Levi-Strauss.

“You take me to the nicest places,” Marcia continued. Gawd, it’s a Saturday afternoon, we were out to dinner last night, what more does she want???

I was in a mood to snap at her but decided it was hardly worth the aggravation. “Sorry, dear. You getting the special with the chicken wings?” Bad question.

“Of course not. I’m getting the salad just like I told you. Don’t you ever listen to me? Look at these thighs!! LOOK at them!” Honestly I couldn’t stand to look at those thighs anymore. She got this hostile leer on her face. “Do you think these thighs can afford my eating pizza and chicken wings? I can’t hide my fat like you can.”

Blah blah blah blah blah. Somebody just shoot me. Why I got back together with her after we broke up the last time is beyond me. Fortunately the line started moving quickly once the order for the hungry staff at Stride-Rite was fulfilled. Marcia got her salad and Diet Coke, though the good money was on her getting Haagen Dazs after lunch. As for me, I got the special, slice of pizza, chicken wings, regular Coke, and I was DEFINITELY getting the Haagen Dazs. I could in fact hide it much better than Marcia, tall as I was. One more thing for her to hate about me.

We sat down next to a table where four girls were sitting. One of them was particularly cute. She had dark hair and a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. All she was eating was a big box of French Fries from Burger King, and looked like she didn’t have an ounce of fat on her (which guaranteed Marcia would hate her, too!) I caught her eye as I sat down, expecting her to look away, but she held her gaze, not that I’m anything special for her to look at, but probably to get me in trouble.

It worked. “Just what are you staring at?” Marcia demanded. “You waaant her, don’t you?”

It had been so long since I’d gotten laid I wanted pretty much anybody that was for sure. But this young lady was finer than frog hair. I quickly imagined some of the things I’d like to do to her before I was rudely interrupted.

“Why don’t you put your tongue back in your mouth and go get me a napkin?” Marcia said. “I just dripped salad dressing all over me.”

I grudgingly obliged. On my way back I saw French Fry Eating Girl catching my attention. Her friends were giggling, probably at me. She was sucking on one of her fries and staring rather seductively at me. I rolled my eyes and tried not to smile. While I didn’t exactly understand it I certainly enjoyed the attention. I was sure she was just fuckin’ with me when all of a sudden she got up to walk past us. Musta wanted more french fries.

As she walked by our table Van Escort she suddenly bent over to pick something up. She brushed her dangling hair back behind her ear, holding it in place, as a hot pink thong poked out from beneath her ultrashort denim skirt. I became fixated with the word “Hottie” tattooed between her sacral dimples, and I had to tell myself not to crane my neck to catch a glimpse of her bare ass should the thong fail to completely cover it.

“Disguuuusting!”, Marcia said, definitely loud enough for Miss French Fries to hear and jolting me back from Planet Hottie. But Miss Fries just laughed when she heard Marcia, satisfied she’d pissed her and every other woman off in about a hundred yard radius. She stood right back up, apparently not having actually picked up anything, and went to refill her drink.

The rest of lunch went without incident. Good for me I didn’t get smacked. But, true to form, Marcia did get her ice cream and proceeded to blame me for it.

After she was done snarfing down her dessert, we walked toward where the kiosks were that sold sunglasses, personalized license plates, cell phones, whatever. In the middle were about half a dozen of those massage chairs, where you stuck your face down in them to let someone rub you down for 15 minutes (or 30 if you were willing to pay).

“God I’m so stressed, but I’m sure you wouldn’t pay for me to get one of those, would you?” Marcia whined. Just as she said that, I saw the little hottie walking by, alone this time, catching my attention once again. This time Marcia didn’t notice her, all too engrossed with the massage chair.

I figured I’d take Marcia by surprise. “You know what, not only will I get you the massage, I want you to have the full treatment.”


“Yeah, I’m gonna go look for some Playstation games for my nephew, why don’t you get the full 1/2 hour?”

“Gee, thanks.” She thought of something to say that I was sure would ruin the moment. I was right.

“You’re going to look at games for a half an hour? You COULD go to the jewelry store, you know. I’m not getting any younger.”

Relentless. Don’t hold your breath. On second thought, go right ahead. “Just enjoy the massage. I’ll be right back.”

Marcia sat down in the chair and buried her face. Best she’d looked all day. That gave me a few minutes to see if I could track down Miss French Fries.

I began looking around for her when a voice behind me said, “Nice move, big boy. Hope you got her the full half hour.”

My knees got a little weak as I turned around and saw Miss French Fries. This time I got a good look at her and noticed fully just how pretty she was. “We don’t have much time, you know.”

“Much time for what?” I asked, brimming with hope and anticipation.

“Come with me.”

She took me by the arm and whisked me into Nordstrom’s, where we headed over to Ladies Sportswear. I had a feeling where this could be heading but it seemed too good to be true.

“One of my friends works here. Here, take this.” She handed me a couple sweaters and a blouse, and she grabbed a couple others which she held onto. “Follow me to the dressing rooms.”

Thisisgreat, thisisgreat, thisisgreat, thisisgreat. I couldn’t believe my good fortune. I also couldn’t help but wonder how many times Miss Fries had done this. “I don’t even know your name,” I said.

“Whatever you want it to be. Hey, how about Misty, ‘cuz you look like you’re about to cry!”

She was right. As she led me into the dressing room, I felt like I’d won the fucking lottery.

“I’ll just be a minute, hon. Here…” “Misty” bent down and yanked her pink thong right out from beneath her skirt. She tossed them to me and smiled. “These should tie you over for while you wait.”

“Uhhh, thanks.” After all what do you say? “I know this isn’t very romantic to say but I am on a bit of a…”

“…time constraint?” Sentence Finisher. Fuck it I won’t hold it against her. Too many other things I’d like to hold against her. “We have plenty of time, trust me.”

Off she went, where I didn’t know. I proceeded to strip down to my “who knew I was going to get laid in the Nordstrom’s dressing room anyway” not so sexy boxers, and proceeded to rub myself with my newly acquired souvenir.

“I’m baaaack,” I heard from the other side of the door. Well, that WAS quick after all. “Hope you’re ready for anything?”

This girl was so hot. “Ready as you are, c’mon in sugar.” I swear I’d never called anyone “sugar” before and I hoped it didn’t sound stupid.

The door opened up, and when I saw who was coming through, I thought I was gonna…but instead I just said it.


“You’re Steve?” The supersized balding guy was hardly containing himself. “I’m Bill from Z101’s Bill and Stacy’s Morning Zoo, and I…”

“I know who you are, what are you doing here?” Though I already Van Escort Bayan knew. Busted. In a huge way.

“Well, the other day, we got a little call from your girlfriend. Seems that she doesn’t think you’re particularly…what’s that in your hands?”

“Stacy’s underpants I believe…hope the station buys her a new pair.”

“Why, did you mess them up?” Bill giggled. He loved to crack himself up. “Anyhoo, we did this little Cheaters set up game and Marcia…that’s your girlfriend’s name for the folks at home, figured you’d take the bait, and…”

“We’re live? Now? You better not be doing videos, too!” I was getting pissed but losing whatever fight I had in me. I knew I was in a heap o’ trouble.

“We’re not. Oh? She’s here? OK, bring ‘er in.”

Marcia walked in. I could see the hurt in her eyes but she had her game face on. “Hi Steve, what are you doing?”

“I think you know.”

“Well yes I do, but I want you to tell everyone so we can all hear it.”

I hate Scolding Time. Especially in front of Z101s target demographic.

“Here for a little fun, I suppose.” Again I lamely tried to put up a fight. “Been awhile, ya know.”

Bad move. “And why do you think that is? Well, I’ll tell you. What is it you always say? Why buy the cow when the milk is free?” I admit, I had said that. “And you follow some girl into a dressing room? Did you honestly think she wanted…God you’re stupid.”

Gee, thanks a lot. At this point I figured I’d just let keep my mouth shut. Of course, Fat Bill with the Face for Radio sensed my clamming up right away.

“Lemme ask you this,” he started in, “first of all, I do want to make sure you don’t die here today, Steve. Let’s start with Marcia’s point. Did you really think Stacy was going to make the sexy time with you?” He said “make the sexy time” in a really bad Borat-like accent.

While I barely remember the interrogation it went on for a few more minutes that seemed like hours and no, Marcia didn’t kill me. They didn’t even need to bring in that bald bouncer from the Springer show.

Bill left Marcia and me in the dressing room but continued to yuck it up with Stacy directly outside. He did also present Marcia with some prize package of a nice dinner for two at Lincoln’s and some facial/massage package at some spa. Good for her since she didn’t get the massage I’d paid for. Oh yeah, and an official Bill and Stacy’s Morning Zoo Tshirt.

“I wonder what Nordstrom’s thinks about this,” I said, trying to make small talk with the person who maybe now was about to kill me given there were no longer any eyewitnesses.

“You know what I wanna do?” Marcia said. She was actually smiling. Then she floored me as she pulled off her sweater. “Fuck me, Steve. Right here and now”


“You heard me. Drop those godawful shorts of yours and give it to me.”

“But what about…and they’ll hear us…is this part of…?”

“Shut up. I want them to hear it. I want them to know we want them to hear it. Fuck me. Now!”

I pondered the offer on the table. Or was it a direct order? I thought back to the time I was first with Marcia, three years and twenty pounds ago, when it seemed sex was all we ever did. I wasn’t keeping score, but how often did we do it now? Once, maybe twice a month? And lately, not since we first got back together, again, a few weeks ago. Why was she suddenly interested in me now? Here?

My eyes popped as Marcia quickly pulled down her pants and sensible underwear. Wearing only her bra and an almost-forgotten sexy smile, she inched towards me and put her arms around my neck. A whisper in my ear beckoned me. “Unclasp my bra. I want to be totally naked with you. Sway with me.”

Where has this vixen been lately? What have I done to drive her away? What can I do to keep her here? “Gladly, sweetheart. You know how much I love your breasts.”

“Yes, I want to press them against your flesh. I’m craving you, your skin, the hair on your chest,” she continued to whisper, “I love the way your hair tickles my breasts. It makes me wet.”

“I know it does. I know what turns you on. Don’t you know I’d never forget?” I was poking my head out from the doghouse and peeking about, hoping there was no sledgehammer waiting to crash through my skull. “This is crazy, you know.”

“We’ve done crazy before. Remember?”

“Like when you jerked me off underneath the table at that restaurant?”

“Mmmm hmmm. And the time you fucked me while we were bobbing in the ocean with all those people swimming around us?”

“We were laughing so hard, I don’t know how we did it!”

“So it shouldn’t be so hard now, then?”

“I think something’s getting pretty hard, now.”

“I think so, too.” Marcia grabbed my throbbing dick and stroked it with both her hands, She grabbed hard with her left, and almost tickled the shaft with her right, how she Escort Van was always able to do that amazed me. Believe me, I’d tried it enough times. Especially in the last few months. I began to wonder if that’s what kept me coming back. Would it be this time we’d recapture Sex Kitten Marcia and send Whiney Marcia packing? I reached behind her and grabbed her ass, massaging it roughly, the way I knew she liked it. You don’t turn me on when you barely touch me was the very first whine I had ever heard from her.

“Is there somewhere you’d like to put this?”

“Somewhere you’d like me to put it?”

Marcia turned around and placed her hands on the wall of the dressing room, spreading her legs apart and raising her ass. As I reached between her legs with my fingers, she looked over my shoulder, shaking the hair out of her eyes. “I don’t think that’s necessary. Stick him in.”

I had the sudden thought of how many dressing rooms Marcia might have been in while I was out at sports bars shooting pool with my buddies. This somehow didn’t feel like anything new to her. I set my misgivings aside, guiding my cock inside her pussy, wet and ready.

A smile spread across Marcia’s face as she rocked back and forth. “Move with me, Stevie. Let’s make some noise.”

I was busy giving Stacy’s panties, still in my hands, a bit of a sniff, when I realized what Marcia had just said. “What?”

“Oh yeah, Stevie. Pump me, pump me good you biiitch,” Marcia exclaimed. I was pretty sure she was playing it up for the audio, and I did start hearing the laughter from outside.

“What are you crazy kids doing in there?” How’s a guy to fuck anyway when some fat man is cracking on you?

I figured I’d jump in. “You know what we’re doing, Billy Boy, that is, you would if you’ve ever gotten any yourself”. Well wasn’t I just the stud all of a sudden?

The walls of the dressing room might as well have been made of cellophane, or glass. No one could see us, but it sure felt that way. I hoped Marcia wasn’t crazy enough to invite them in. “Stevie, fuck me harder, HARDER!” I felt Marcia’s pussy banging back and forth, up and down my shaft. I held back and tried to tease her with just the head, but she’d have none of it. She leaned back, knocking me on my back, and was quickly on top of me, inserting my penis once again.

“As deep as you can. And as HARD as you can!”

Marcia’s pale complexion turned beet red, her breasts bouncing up and down the quicker she humped me. Her pussy began to twitch as I felt my penis stiffen with the inevitable climax.

“I know you’re about to cum. Shoot it inside me. I want to feel your orgasm as you feel mine. SHOOT IT, NOW!” Marcia was definitely playing up to the radio people but I didn’t care. I lost my breath and clenched my teeth, letting my semen go. Marcia continued to ride me until I was fully spent, letting out an ear-piercing scream. Not quite Meg Ryan at the diner in When Harry Met Sally, but close.

We heard applause outside the door.

“You can go away now,” I said.

“Show’s over,” Marcia chimed in.

“We’ll leave you crazy kids alone now,” Bill said, laughing hysterically. Mercifully, I heard what sounded like the radio crew packing up and leaving.

“Well, that was interesting,” I said.

“Pretty much,” said Marcia. She was still on top of me. I gazed at the ceiling as I felt my semen, suddenly cold, run down her legs and onto my stomach. “I gotta admit, Stevie, I’ve always wanted to do that. And that was pretty hot.”

“Didn’t realize you had such a freaky side. It’s nice.” Marcia didn’t say anything. “So, you want to cash in those Lincoln’s vouchers tonight?” I asked her as we quickly got dressed.

“As a matter of fact, I do.” There was a knock at the door. Great. At least we were both dressed by then.

Stacy walked through the door. “Pick you up about six?” she said to Marcia.

“Sure thing,” Marcia replied. “I haven’t been to Lincoln’s since, well, since before I met Steve.” She shot an evil eye at me. Uh-oh.

“Well, I can’t wait,” said Stacy. And as if I hadn’t been floored enough in one day, she walked over and gave Marcia a little kiss on the lips. “See you at six.”

When she left I turned to Marcia. “Are you…?”

“No. But when I went to the station afterwards me and Stacy went out for drinks and things got, well, a little hot and heavy. So we both figured, hey what the hell let’s finish what we started and besides…besides, Steve…”


“I’m done with you.” The hurt was back in her eyes. “Once and for all. I know you’re never gonna marry me. I know you don’t want me. I may not be the most beautiful girl. I may not even be the nicest. But I’m a lot nicer than you, and I deserve better.”

“Like some radio dike?” Ego kicking in.

“She’s not a dike. She’s my friend. And the first step to getting you out of my system. Now leave, Steve. I want to try on these sweaters Stacy picked out. And thanks for screwing me today. You were good for something today at least.”

For once, blah blah blah blah blah never crossed my mind.

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