Carrying

As Nigel sat near the bus entrance, it was easy for him to feed off the eye candies boarding at each stop. His RayBan sunglasses were on in the prime afternoon sun and it served well as a guard, allowing none of those staring eyes to spot him. Just as he got sleepy under the cooling breeze from the air vents, a lady in her thirties appeared after some struggle to get her ez-link card out. In her hands were bags of groceries from NTUC, and even her shoulders were occupied by the environmental friendly cloth bags.

She had knocked onto him as she placed the bags on the platform beside him, but managed to get her card scanned at the next stop. Unable to carry her stuff to the back for a good seat, Nigel shifted himself to the empty seat beside and she smiled sweetly at him, whispering a soft ‘thanks’. Her black hair had its ends curled, running down her shoulders, covering part of the black Mango tank top she wore. Her slightly muscular legs was slim, but not too thin to a scare.

Sitting next to him in that short denim skirt, she looked mature in every way, but her polite attitude was what caught Nigel’s attention. Although he was keen to get himself a shower under the heat, his mind was coming up with excuses to stay with her longer. And after a few bus stops, his pick up skills were put to the test.

Nigel: ‘Can I help you?’

At that instant, the handle of a heavier plastic bag slipped and weighed her down, creating a chain reaction to the cloth bag on her shoulder with streaks of redness underneath. One of the grips had slipped and a tearing sound was heard. With the rest of the passengers staring at her embarrassing delay, Nigel needed no cue to pick the rest of the shopping bags and alighted before her, while she stayed for a few more seconds at the door trying to tap her card out.

Lady: ‘I’m so sorry for making you alight. You can just leave the bags on the seat, I can manage.’

Nigel: ‘It’s alright miss, I can carry them for you. The bag on your shoulder is tearing apart.’

She checked on the bag he spoke about and realised it was so close to giving way. Having no other choice, she spent some time adjusting the bags and he took over a few more so she could hug the more delicate groceries.

They walked a few minutes to her block and he gracefully helped her to the door, so she could open it. Flinging his shoes outside, he made his way in and she quickly helped to lighten his load.

Girl (shouting): ‘Mummy!’

Lady (shouting): ‘Yes girl. Hang on a minute k? I got your ice cream.’

Nigel couldn’t resist but smiled hearing that she had bought something for the excited girl’s voice coming from a room.

Lady: ‘Take a seat. I’ll get you some drinks.’

Nigel: ‘It’s okay. Why don’t you get her ice cream first?’

She rushed to one of the bags and took out a 2 litre tub, clumsily scooping some into a bowl, and then disappearing into her daughter’s room where she spent another few minutes. During the wait on the sofa, he was admiring the beautiful decorated house, until she appeared again, looking even better covered in perspiration.

Lady: ‘Here, have this. Thank you so much for your help. It’s so embarrassing on the bus when everyone waited for me.’

Nigel: ‘Well, that’s how it is in Singapore. Everyone is in a hurry.’

Lady: ‘Except you! I’m Eliza.’

Nigel: ‘And I am Nigel. Beautiful house you have.’

Eliza: ‘Thanks. Would you like to stay for dinner? It’s getting late.’

Nigel: ‘I would hate to impose on you.’

Eliza: ‘It’s nothing. Let me get changed. And you can rest while I cook.’

She went into a room opposite her daughter’s and right then, a girl in her teens appeared, shocked at his appearance.

Girl: ‘Mummy, is that your friend?’

And after that was followed by a softened conversation. She went into the kitchen for a drink and went back to her room, giving Nigel a quick indulgence in her braless-long-tshirt state. Eliza returned to the kitchen in a similar long shirt and he followed suit, helping her to prepare the ingredients while they chatted. Unknown to Eliza, Nigel was a gastro-consultant, apt in cooking and coming up with recipes on the spot.

Eliza: ‘Wow, you are a good cook.’

Nigel: ‘And you are a beautiful mom.’

A flush of blush flashed through her face and she kept quiet, silently glad that she could still appear attractive to the younger generation. As his shirt got stuck on his body from the stove from sweating, he realised that she was standing behind him, watching him ‘perform’ on the wok. His concentration was a little blurry by then, as he could smell the subtle fragrance from her.

Suddenly, her hands went to his waist and pulled his shirt off, running down his chest once she placed the wet t-shirt on the dining table. Slipping her fingers into his shorts, his hard on was frantically rising, as though trying to reach her fingers too. Quickly, he grabbed her hands before they could move further and froze.

Nigel: ‘Your daughter.. ‘

Eliza: ‘Shhh.. I told her to stay in her room until dinner is ready.’

Nigel: ‘But you’re distracting me.’

Eliza: ‘So should I stop? You’re turning me on with your focused look.’

In her mind, ‘no’ kept chanting like a bee’s buzz, hoping he could let her have him for a little while.

Nigel: ‘I think it will keep me energised.’

The buttons on his shorts were undone and zipper lowered, leaving his underwear just below his rod after she tugged at it. Stroking gently while standing behind him, he was trembling from her skilful yet careful handjob. She then leaned her head next to his ears and whispered something that made him twitched.

Eliza (whispering): ‘You are really big.’

Pouring a little olive oil in her palm, her strokes went faster, and Nigel quickly plated the one delicious stir-fried chicken in oyster sauce on a clean plate she prepared for him. Once done, she turned him around and pulled him by the neck to the wooden dining table, sitting just at the edge. He reached backwards for the bottle of oyster sauce and placed it on the table, before sliding his hands under her shirt to remove whatever underneath, if there was any.

Pushing his shoulders down, he grabbed the bottle and tilted it over her groin, dripping a few drops down her pussy. She had not showered since they got home, but it was cleanly washed, with a triangular trimmed pubic. Diving in for the fresh ‘oyster’, he licked her continuously and helped himself to the sauce that lubricated her pearl. Soft moans were coming out of her pink lips, and his dick was dying for some attention.

Standing back up, he was about to enter her when she stopped him, going over to the stove where the basket of veggie was waiting to be cooked. He let her get in position and arranged all the seasoning where she could reach and flipped her shirt to her waist.

Spreading her legs apart, he stood between them and straightened his knees, putting his plug slowly into her. As his olive oiled dick sank into her, her hands could no longer hold onto the wooden spoon. Flicking the fire off, Nigel held onto her waist and pounded her hard, weakening her knees and making her moan with the sizzling sounds from the wok.

Eliza (moaning): ‘You’re too big!’

He used his hand to cover her mouth while giving her the wildest fuck, ramming so deep into her that an orgasm blasted her body till she collapsed to the floor. Still undone with his thrusts, he went down on his knees and doggied her again, this time, closing her legs so he could have a better feel. As her pussy tightened from the ongoing orgasms, Nigel couldn’t hold out any longer too.

Nigel (whispering): ‘You’re getting too tight! I’m gonna cum!’

Eliza: ‘Inside me.’

He reached around her to give both of her boobs a massage and she squeezed him even more. Feeling his dick pumping quicker inside her, Eliza was in the heavens all the way until his load began to warm her insides. He did not stop but kept going until juices were dripping down her thighs. To end their unexpected encounter, he pulled out of her slowly after a few attempts of her backing onto him to keep him inside.

Once he was out, he picked her up and settled her on the chair, while he wore his pants back and finished cooking the vegetables. And as soon as the rice cooker clicked, her daughter appeared and she helped to get the rice, while the awkward pair ate their dinner quietly. That night, Eliza’s mind was filled with scenes of the kitchen sex, having his hot dick pounding inside, closely brushing on the walls of her sensitive pussy, and then replaying the hot load of cum entering her.

After she saw the lights of her girl’s room went off, her fingers went to her clit, and gently rubbed herself to sleep, wetting the bed while wishing Nigel to be sleeping beside her.

Nigel (SMS): ‘Let me know when you are buying groceries again? I can help.’

Eliza (SMS): ‘Sure thing. You can come over to cook for me anytime.’

He took, was jerking himself off while texting her, unknown that she was masturbating to him as well. It was definitely a random encounter and the image of her pantyless with the scent of oyster, was just so tantalising.

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